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The record of men and of movements. History teaches us the 
growth and development of ideas. Our civiKzation is the final 
expression of the two great master-thoughts of the race. Seeking 
an explanation of the pressing phenomena of life, man has peopled 
the world with spiritual beings to whom he has assigned benign 
or malign influences, to be invoked or propitiated. To the great 
'uncharted region' (Gilbert Murray) with its mysteries, his religions 
offer a guide ; and through ' a behef in spiritual beings ' (Tylor's 
definition of religion) he has built an altar of righteousness in his 
heart. The birth of the other dominant idea, long delayed, is 
comparatively recent. ' The discovery of things as they really 
are ' (Plato) by a study of nature was the great gift of the Greeks. 
Knowledge, scientia, knowledge of things we see, patiently acquired 
by searching out the secrets of nature, is the basis of our material 
civilization. The true and lawful goal of the sciences, seen dimly 
and so expressed by Bacon, is the acquisition of new powers by 
new discoveries — that goal has been reached. Niagara has been 
harnessed, and man's dominion has extended from earth and sea 
to the air. The progress of physics and of chemistry has revolu- 
tionized man's ways and works, while the new biology has changed 
his mental outlook. 

The greater part of this progress has taken place within the 
memory of those living, and the mass of scientific work has accu- 
mulated at such a rate that speciaHsm has become inevitable. 
While this has the obvious advantage resulting from a division 
of labour, there is the penalty of a narrowed horizon, and groups 
of men work side by side whose language is unintelligible to each 

Here is where the historian comes in, with two definite objects. 


teaching the method by which the knowledge has been gained, 
the evolution of the subject, and correlating the innumerable 
subdivisions in a philosophy at once, in Plato's words, a science 
in itself as weU as of other sciences. For example, the student of 
physics may know Crookes's tubes and their relation to Rontgen, 
but he cannot have a true conception of the atomic theory without 
a knowledge of Democritus ; and the exponent of Madame Curie 
and of Sir J. J. Thomson wiU find his happiest illustrations from 
the A^Titings of Lucretius. It is unfortunate that the progress of 
science makes useless the very works that made progress possible ; 
and the student is too apt to think that because useless now they 
have never been of value. 

The need of a comprehensive study of the methods of science 
is now widely recognized, and to recognize this need important 
Journals have been started, notably Isis, pubhshed by our Belgian 
colleague George Sarton, interrupted, temporarily we hope, by 
the war ; and Scientia, an International Review of Scientific 
Synthesis pubhshed by our ItaHan AUies. The numerous good 
histories of science issued withia the past few years bear witness to 
a real demand for a wider knowledge of the methods by which 
the present status has been reached. Among works from which 
the student may get a proper outlook on the whole question may 
be mentioned Dannemann's Die Naturwissenschaften in ihrer 
EntwicMung und in ihrem Zusammenhange, Bd. IV ; De la Methods 
dans les Sciences, edited by Felix Thomas (Paris : Alcan) ; Marvin's 
Living Past, 3rd ed. (Clarendon Press, 1917) ; and Libby's Intro- 
duction to the History of Science (Houghton Mifflin & Co., 1917). 

This volume of Essays is the outcome of a quiet movement on 
the part of a few Oxford students to stimulate a study of the 
history of science. Shortly after his appointment to the Phihp 
Walker Studentship, Dr. Charles Singer (of Magdalen CoUege) 
obtained leave from Bodley's Librarian and the Curators to have 
a bay in the RadclifEe Camera set apart for research work in the 
history of science and a safe installed to hold manuscripts ; and 
(with Mrs. Singer) offered £100 a year for five years to provide 


the necessary fittings, and special books not already in the 
Library. The works relating to the subject have been collected 
in the room, the objects of which are : 

First, to place at the disposal of the general student a collection 
that will enable him to acquire a knowledge of the development 
of science and scientific conceptions. 

Secondly, to assist the special student in research : (a) by placing 
him in relationship with investigations already undertaken ; (b) 
by collecting information on the sources and accessibility of his 
material ; and (c) by providing him with facilities to work up his 

In spite of the absence of Dr. Siager on mihtary duty for the 
greater part of the time, the work has been carried on with con- 
spicuous success, to use the words of Bodley's Librarian. Ten 
special students have used the room. Professor Ramsay Wright 
has made a study of an interesting Persian medical manuscript. 
Professor WiOiam Libby, of Pittsburg, during the session of 
1915-16, used the room in the preparation of his admirable 
History of Science just issued. Dr. E. T. Withington, the well- 
known medical historian, is making a special study of the 
old Greek writers for the new edition of Liddell and Scott's 
Dictionary. Miss Mildred Westland has helped Dr. Singer 
with the Italian medical manuscripts. Mr. Reuben Levy has 
worked at the Arabic medical manuscripts of Moses Maimonides. 
Mrs. Jenkinson is engaged on a study of early medicine and magic. 
Dr. J. L. E. Dreyer, the distinguished historian of Astronomy, has 
used the room in connexion with the preparation of the Opera 
Omnia of Tycho Brahe. Miss Joan Evans is engaged upon a 
research on mediaeval lapidaries. Mrs. Singer has begun a study 
of the Enghsh medical manuscripts, with a view to a complete 
catalogue. How important this is may be judged from the first 
instalment of her work dealing with the plague manuscripts in 
the British Museum. With rare enthusiasm and energy Dr. Singer 
has himself done a great deal of valuable work, and has proved 
an intellectual ferment working far beyond the confines of Oxford. 


I have myself found the science history room of the greatest 
convenience, and it is most helpful to have easy access on the 
shelves to a large collection of works on the subject. Had the war 
not interfered, we had hoped to start a Journal of the History and 
Method of Science and to organize a summer school for special 
students — ^hopes we may perhaps see reaUzed in happier days. 

MeanwhUe, this volume of essays (most of which were in course 
of preparation when war was declared) is issued as a ballon d^essai. 





The Scientific Views and Visions oe Saint Hilde- 

GABD (1098-1180) 1 


Vitalism ,59 


A Study in Early Renaissance Anatomy, with 
A NEW TEXT : The ANOTHOMIA oe Hieronymo 

MaNEREDI, transcribed and TRANSLATED BY 

A. Mildred Westland 79 


The Blessing oe Cramp-Rings ; a Chapter in the 

History of the Treatment op Epilepsy . .165 


Dr. John Weyer and the Witch Mania . . .189 


The ' Tractattjs de Causis et Indiciis Morborum ', 



Scientific Discovery and Logical Proof . . 235 

INDEX 291 



I. Hildegard receiving the Light from Heaven (Wiesbaden 

Codex B, fo. 1 r) . . . . . Frontispiece 

II. The Three Scripts of the Wiesbaden Codex B (fo. 17 r, 

col. b ; fo. 32 v, col. b ; fo. 205 r, col. b) . . . 4 

III. Title-page of the Heidelberg Codex of the Scivias . . 5 

IV. The Universe (from the Heidelberg Codex of the Scivias) 12 
V. (a) Opening lines of the Copenhagen MS. of the Causae 

et Gurae. (b) Opening lines of the Lucca MS. of the 
Liber divinorum operum simplicis hominis . . 13 

VI. Nous pervaded by the Godhead and controlling Hyle 

(Lucca MS., fo. 1 v) 20 

VII. Nous pervaded by the Godhead embracing the Macro- 
cosm vrith the Microcosm (Lucca MS., fo. 9 r) . . 21 
VIII. The Macrocosm, the Microcosm, and the Winds (Lucca 

MS., fo. 27 w) 28 

IX. Celestial Influences on Men, Animals, and Plants (Lucca 

MS., fo. 371) 28 

X. A Crucifix in the Uffizi Gallery; about the middle of 

the thirteenth century ...... 30 

XI. The Structure of the Mundane Sphere (Lucca MS., fo. 86 v) 32 
XII. (a) Man's FaU and the Disturbance of the Elemental 
Harmony (Wiesbaden Codex B, fo. 4 r). (b) The 
New Heaven and the New Earth (Wiesbaden Codex B, 
io.224:v) 33 

XIII. The Last Judgement and Fate of the Elements (Wiesbaden 

Codex B, fo. 224 r) 36 

XIV. Diagram of the Relation of Human and Cosmic Pheno- 

mena : ninth century (Bibliotheque Nationale MS. 

lat. 6543, fo. 136 r) 37 

XV. An Eleventh-century French Melothesia (Bibliothdque 

Nationale MS. lat. 7028, fo. 154 r) . . . . 40 

XVI. A Melothesia of about 1400 (from Bibliotheque Nationale 

MS. lat. 11229, fo. 45 t;) . . . Between 40 and 41 

XVII. Facsimile from the Symbolum Apostolicorum, a German 
Block Book of the first half of the Fifteenth Century 
(Heidelberg University Library) . Between 40 and 41 
XVIII. An Anatomical Diagram of about 1298 (Bodleian MS. 

Ashmole 399, fo. 18 r) 41 

XIX. Birth. The Arrival and Trials of the Soul (Wiesbaden 

Codex B, fo. 22 r) 44 



XX. Death. The Departure and Fate of the Soul (Wiesbaden 

Codex B, fo. 25 r) 45 

XXI. The Fall of the Angels (Wiesbaden Codex B, fo. 123 r) 46 
XXII. The Days of Creation and the Fall of Man (Wiesbaden 

Codex B, fo. 41 «) 48 

XXIII. The Vision of the Trinity (Wiesbaden Codex B, fo. 471) 50 

XXIV. (a) Sedens Lucidus (Wiesbaden Codex B, fo. 213 v). 

(b) Zelus Dei (Wiesbaden Codex B, fo. 153 r) . .52 

XXV. The Heavenly City (Wiesbaden Codex B, fo. 30 r) . 54 

XXVI. John Wilfred Jenkinson 57 

XXVII. Mundinus (?) lecturing on Anatomy (from the 1493 

edition of ' Ketham ') 78 

XXVIII. (a) Four Diagrams, to illustrate the Anatomy of Henri de 
Mondeville (Bibliotheque Nationale MS. fr. 2030, 
written in 1314). (b) A Dissection Scene, circa 1298 
(Bodleian MS. Ashmole 399, fo. 34 r) . . .79 

XXIX. A Post-Mortem Examination : late fourteenth century to 
illustrate Guy de Chauhae (Montpellier, Bibliotheque 
de la Faculte de Medecine MS. fr. 184, fo. 14 r) . 80 

XXX. (a) A Demonstration of Surface Markings : second half 
of fifteenth century (Vatican MS. Hispanice 4804, 
fo. 8 r). (6) A Demonstration of the Bones to illus- 
trate Guy de Chauhae : first half of fifteenth century 
(Bristol Reference Library MS., fo. 25 r) . . 81 

XXXI. Anatomical Sketches from the MS. of Guy de Vigevano 

of 1345 at Chantilly 84 

XXXII. Anatomical Sketches from the MS. of Guy de Vigevano of 

1345 at Chantilly 85 

XXXIII. The Five-Figure Series : Veins, &c., Arteries, Nerves, 
Bones, Muscles (Bodleian MS. Ashmole 399, fos. 18 r- 

22 r) : about 1298 92 

XXXIV. . Demonstrations of Anatomy : second half of fifteenth cen- 
tury (Dresden Galen MS.) . . . . .93 
XXXV. A View of the Internal Organs : Leonardo da Vinci (from 

a drawing in the Library, Windsor Castle) . . 96 

XXXVI. Two Persons dissecting, traditionally said to represent 
Michelangelo and Antonio della Torre (from a drawing 
in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, attributed to 
BartolomeoManfredi (1574?-1602)) ... 97 

XXXVII. Portrait of Giovanni Bentivoglio II, from his tomb in 

the Church of S. Giacomo Maggiore at Bologna . 102 

XXXVIII. (a) Roger Bacon's Diagram of the Eye : thirteenth cen- 
tury (British Museum MS. Roy. 7 F. vin, fo. 50 v). 
(6) Leonardo da Vinci's Diagram of the Heart : early 
sixteenth century (from a drawing in Windsor Castle) 103 



XXXIX. Miracles at the Tomb of Edward the Confessor, from 
Norman-French thirteenth-century MS. (University 
Library, Cambridge, MS. Ee. iii. 59) . . . 166 

XL. Queen Mary Tudor blessing Cramp-Rings (from Queen 
Mary's Illuminated MS. Manual, in the Library of the 
Roman Catholic Cathedral at Westminster) .178 

XLI. Facsimile of the Tractatus de Causis et Indiciis Morborum, 

attributed to Maimonides (Bodleian MS., Marsh 379) 225 




1. The Hildegard Country 3 

2. Hildegard's First Scheme of the Universe (slightly simplified from 

the Wiesbaden Codex B, fo. 14 r) . . . . . 9 

3. Hildegard's Second Scheme of the Universe (reconstructed from 

her measurements) ........ 29 

4. Dante's Scheme of the Universe (slightly modified from Michel- 

angelo Caetani, duca di Sermoneta, La materia della Divina 
Commedia di Dante Allighieri dichiarata in VI tavole) . . 31 

5. Diagram of the Zones (from Herrade de Landsberg, Hortus 

deliciarum) ......... 40 

6. 7. Melothesiae (from R.Fludd, listeria Minwsg'wecosmi, 1619) . 41 

8. The Microcosm (from R. Fludd, Philosophia sacra seu astrologia 

cosmica, 1628) ......... 42 

9. Diagram illustrating the relationship of the Planets to the Brain 

(from Herrade de Landsberg, Hortus deliciarum) ... 48 


1 . The first printed picture of Dissection (from the French translation 

of Bartholomaeus Anglicus, 1482) ..... 80 

2. Dissection Scene in the open air (Title-page of MeUerstadt's 

edition of the Anatomy of Mondino, 1493) .... 82 

3. Dissection Scene (from the 1495 edition of ' Ketham ') . .83 

4. The first picture of Dissection ia an English-printed book (from 

the English translation of Bartholomaeus Anglicus, printed 

by Wynkyn de Worde, 1495) 85 

5. A Lecture on Anatomy (from the 1635 edition of Berengar of 

Carpi's Commentary on Mondino) ..... 85 

6. Diagrams of the Internal Organs (after Bodleian MS. Ashmole 399, 

of about 1298) 88 



7. A Female Figure laid open to show the Womb and other Organs 

(from the 1493 edition of ' Ketham ') 91 

8. The Abdominal Muscles (from Berengar of Carpi's Commentary 

on Mondino, 1521) 96 

9. The first printed Map of England (from the 1472 (?) Bologna 

Ptolemy, edited by Manfredi and others) .... 100 

10. Facsimile of the last page of Manfredi's Prognosticon ad annum 

1479 102 

11. Diagram showing the ten Layers of the Head, the Cerebral Ventri- 

cles and Cranial Nerves, and the Relation of the Nerves to the 
Senses (from M. Hundt, .i4wiropoZog'iMm, 1501) . ■ .112 

12. The Layers of the Head (from the Anatomia of Johannes Dryander, 

1537) 112 

13. Diagram showing the Ventricles of the Brain (from Illustrissimi 

philosophi et theologi domini Alberti magni compendiosum 
insigneac perutile opus PhilosophiaeTiaturalis, 14:96) . .114 

14. Diagram of the Senses, the Humours, the Cerebral Ventricles, and 

the Intellectual Faculties. To illustrate Roger Bacon, De 
Scientia Perspectiva (British Museum MS. Sloane 2156, fo. 11 r) 116 

15. Diagram illustrating the general ideas on Anatomy current at the 

Renaissance (from K. Peyligk, Philosophiae naturalis com- 
pendium, 14:89) ......... 116 

16. Diagrams of the Cerebral Ventricles viewed from above and from 

the side (from K. Peyligk, Philosophiae naturalis compendium, 
1489) 117 

17. The Localization of Cerebral Functions (from the 1493 edition of 

'Ketham') 117 

18. Diagram of the Ventricles and the Senses, with their relation to 

the intellectual processes, according to the doctrine of the 
Renaissance anatomists (from G. Reisch, Margarita philosophiae, 
1503) 117 

19. The Anatomy of the Eye (from G. Reisch, Margarita philosophiae, 

1503) 120 

20. The Anatomy of the Eye (from Vesalius, De humani corporis 

fabrica, 1543) ......... 121 

21. The Heart (from the Roncioni MS., Pisa 99) . . . . 127 

22. Diagram showing the two Lateral Ventricles and the 'Central' 

Ventricle (from Johaimes Adelphus, Mundini de omnibus 
humani corporis interioribus menbris Anathomia, 1513) . . 128 

23. The Heart (from Hans von Gersdorff, Feldt- und Stattbilch 

bewerter Wundartznei, 1556) ....... 129 

Portrait of Dr. John Weyer at the age of 60, 1576 .... 189 

SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 

By Charles Singek 


I. Introduction .1 

II. Life and Works 2 

in. Bibliographical Note .... 6 
IV. The Spurious Scientific Works 

of Hildegard 12 

V. Sources of Hildegard's Scientific 

Knowledge 15 







The Structure of the Material 

Universe 22 

Macrocosm and Microcosm . 30 
Anatomy and Physiology . 43 
Birth and Death and the 

Nature of the Soul ... 49 
The Visions and their Patho- 
logical Basis . . . .51 

I. Introduction 

In attempting to interpret the views of Hildegard on scientific 
subjects, certain special difficulties present themselves. First is 
the confusion arising from the writings to which her name has 
been erroneously attached. To obtain a true view of the scope 
of her work, it is necessary to discuss the authenticity of some of 
the material before us. A second difficulty is due to the receptivity 
of her mind, so that views and theories that she accepts in her 
earlier works become modified, altered, and developed in her later 
writings. A third difficulty, perhaps less real than the others, is 
the visionary and involved form in which her thoughts are cast. 

But a fourth and more vital difficulty is the attitude that she 
adopts towards phenomena in general. To her mind there is no 
distinction between physical events, moral truths, and spiritual ex-| 
periences. This view, which our children share with their mediaeval 
ancestors, was developed but not transformed by the virile power 
of her intellect. Her fusion of internal and external universe links 
Hildegard indeed to a whole series of mediaeval visionaries, culminat- 
ing with Dante. In Hildegard, as in her fellow mystics, we find 
that ideas on Nature and Man, the Moral World and the Material 
Universe, the Spheres, the Winds, and the Humours, Birth and 
Death, and even on the Soul, the Resurrection of the Dead, and the 
Nature of God, are not only interdependent, but closely interwoven. 
Nowadays we are well accustomed to separate our ideas into 
categories, scientific, ethical, theological, philosophical, and so 
forth, and we even esteem it a virtue to retain and restrain our 

1882 B 


thouglits within limits that we deliberately set for them. To 
Hildegard such classification would have been impossible and 
probably incomprehensible. Nor do such terms as parallelism or 
allegory adequately cover her view of the relation of the material 
and spiritual. In her mind they are really interfused, or rather 
they have not yet been separated. 

Therefore, although in the following pages an attempt is made 
to estimate her scientific views, yet the writer is conscious that 
such a method must needs interpret her thought in a partial 
manner. Hildegard, indeed, presents to us scientific thought as 
an undifferentiated factor, and an attempt is here made to separate 
it by the artificial but not unscientific process of dissection from 
the organic matrix in which it is embedded. 

The extensive literature that has risen around the life and 
works of Hildegard has come from the hands of writers who have 
shown no interest in natural knowledge, while those who have 
occupied themselves with the history of science have, on their side, 
largely neglected the period to which Hildegard belongs, allured 
by the richer harvest of the full scholastic age which followed. 
This essay is an attempt to fiU in a small part of the lacuna. 

II. Life and Works 

Hildegard of Bingen was born in 1098, of noble parentage, at 
Bockelheim, on the river Nahe, near Sponheim. Destined from 
an early age to a religious life, she passed nearly all her days 
within the walls of Benedictine houses. She was educated and 
commenced her career in the isolated convent of Disibodenberg, 
at the junction of the Nahe and the Glan, where she rose to be 
abbess. In 1147 she and some of her nuns migrated to a new 
convent on the Rupertsberg, a finely placed site, where the smoky 
railway junction of Bingerbriick now mars the landscape. Between 
the little settlement and the important mediaeval town of Bingen 
flowed the river Nahe, spanned by a bridge to which stiU clung 
the name of the pagan Drusus (see Fig. 1). At this spot, a place 
of ancient memories, secluded and yet linked to the world, our 
abbess passed the main portion of her life, and here she closed her 
eyes in the eighty-second year of her age on September 17, 1180. 

Hildegard was a woman of extraordinarily active and inde- 
pendent mind. She was not only gifted with a thoroughly efficient 
intellect, but was possessed of great energy and considerable 

OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 3 

literary power, and her writings cover a wide range, betraying 
the most varied activities and remarkable imaginative faculty. 
The best known, and in a literary sense the most valuable of her 
works, are the books of visions. She was before all things an 
ecstatic, and both her Scivias (1141-50) and her Liher divinorum 
operum simpUcis hominis (1163-70) contain passages of real 
power and beauty. Less valuable, perhaps, is her third long 


mystical work (the second in point of time), the Liber vitae 
meritorum (1158-62). She is credited with the authorship of an 
interesting mystery-play and of a collection of musical com- 
positions, while her life of St, Disibode, the Irish missionary 
(594-674) to whom her part of the Rhineland owes its Christianity, 
and her accoimt of St. Rupert, a local saint commemorated in 
the name ' Rupertsberg ', both bear witness alike to her narrative 
powers, her capacity for systematic arrangement, and her historical 
interests. Her extensive correspondence demonstrates the influence 



that she wielded in her own day and country, while her Quaestionwm 
solutiones triginta octo, her Explanatio regulae sancti Benedicti, and 
her Explanatio symholi sancti Athanasii ad congregationem sororum 
suorum give us glimpses of her activities as head of a rehgious house. 

Her biographer, the monk Theodoric, records that she also 
busied herself with the treatment of the sick, and credits her 
with miraculous powers of healing.^ Some of the cited instances 
of this faculty, as the curing of a love-sick maid,^ are, however, 
but manifestations of personal ascendancy over weaker minds ; 
notwithstanding her undoubted acquaintance with the science of 
her day, and the claims made for her as a pioneer of the hospital 
system, there is no serious evidence that her treatment extended 
beyond exorcism and prayer. 

Eor her time and circumstance Hildegard had seen a fair 
amount of the world. Living on the Rhine, the highway of 
Western Germany, she was well placed for observing the traffic 
and activities of men. She had journeyed at least as far north 
as Cologne, and had traversed the eastern tributary of the great 
river to Frankfort on the Main and to Rothenburg on Taube.* 
Her own country, the basin of the Nahe and the Glan, she knew 
intimately. She was, moreover, in constant communication with 
Mayence, the seat of the archbishopric m which Bingen was 
situated, and there has survived an extensive correspondence with 
the ecclesiastics of Cologne, Speyer, Hildesheim, Treves, Bamberg, 
Prague, Niirnberg, Utrecht, and numerous other towns of Germany, 
the Low Countries, and Central Europe. 

Hildegard's journeys, undertaken with the object of stimulat- 
ing spiritual revival, were of the nature of religious progresses, 
but, like those of her contemporary, Bernard of Clairvaux, they 
were in fact largely directed against the heretical and most cruelly 
persecuted Cathari, an Albigensian sect widely spread in the 
Rhine country of the twelfth century, whom Hildegard regarded 
as ' worse than the Jews '.* In justice to her memory it is to be 

1 Vita Sanctae Hildegardis auctoribus Godefrido et Theodorico monachis, lib. iii, 
cap. 1. The work has been frequently reprinted and is in Migne, Patrologia 
Latina, vol. 197, col. 91 ff. This volume will be quoted here simply as ' Migne '. 

2 Migne, col. 119. 

^ The erroneous statement in some of her biographies that she journeyed to 
Paris is based on a misunderstanding. 

* Cardinal J. B. Pitra, Analecta sacra, vol. viii, p. 350, Paris, 1882. This 
volume will here be quoted simply as ' Pitra '. 













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Plate III. 


OP SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 5 

recalled that she herself was ever against the shedding of blood, 
and had her less ferocious views prevailed, some more substantial 
relic than the groans and tears of this people had reached our 
time, while the annals of the Church had been spared the defile- 
ment of an inexpiable stain. 

Hildegard's correspondence with St. Bernard, then preaching 
his crusade, with four popes, Eugenius III, Anastasius IV, 
Adrian IV, and Alexander III, and with the emperors Conrad 
and Frederic Barbarossa, brings her into the current of general 
European history, while she comes into some slight contact with 
the story of our own country by her hortatory letters to Henry II 
and to his consort Eleanor, the divorced wife of Louis VII.^ 

To complete a sketch of her literary activities, mention should 
perhaps be made of a secret script and language, the lingua 
ignota, attributed to her. It is a transparent and to modern 
eyes a foolishly empty device that hardly merits the dignity of 
the term ' mystical '. It has, however, exercised the ingenuity 
of several writers, and has been honoured by analysis at the hands 
of Wilhelm Grimm. ^ 

Ample material exists for a full biography of Hildegard, and 
a number of accounts of her have appeared in the vulgar tongue. 
Nearly all are marred by a lack of critical judgement that makes 
their perusal a weary task, and indeed it would need considerable 
skiU to interest a detached reader in the minutiae of monastic 
disputes that undoubtedly absorbed a considerable part of her 
activities. Perhaps the best life of her is the earliest ; it is certainly 
neither the least critical nor the most credulous, and is by her 
contemporaries, the monks Godefrid and Theodoric.^. 

1 Pitra, p. 556. 

2 Wilhelm Grimm, 'Wiesbader Glossen', in Moriz Haupt's Zeitschrift fur 
deutsches Alterthum, Leipzig, 1848, vol. vi, p. 321. Thescript is reproduced in the 
ill-arranged and irritating work of J. P. Schmelzeis, Das Leben und Wirken der 
heiligen Hildegardis, Freiburg im Breisgau, 1879; and in Pitra, p. 497. The 
subject has been summarized by F. W. E. Roth in his Lieder und unbekannte 
Sprache der h. Hildegardis, Wiesbaden, 1880. 

3 A short sketch of her life of yet earher date has survived. It is from the 
hand of the monk Guibert and was probably written in 1180 : Pitra, p. 407. The 
best modern account of her is by F. W. E. Roth in the Zeitschrift fur kirchliche 
Wissenschaft und kirchliches Leben, vol. ix, p. 453, Leipzig, 1888. Less critical 
but more readable is the essay by Albert Battandier, ' Sainte Hildegarde, sa vie 
et ses oeuvres ', in the Revue des questions historiques, vol. xxxiii, pp. 395-425, 
Paris, 1883. 


The title of ' saint ' is usually given to Hildegard, but she was 
not in fact canonized. Attempts towards that end were made 
under Gregory IX (1237), Innocent IV (1243), and John XXII 
(1317). Miraculous cures and other works of wonder were claimed 
for her, but either they were iasufficiently miraculous or insuffi- 
ciently attested.^ Those who have impartially traced her life in 
her documents will agree with the verdict of the Church. Hers 
was a fiery, a prophetic, in many ways a singularly noble spirit, 
but she was not a saint in any intelligible sense of the word. 


There is no complete edition of the works of Hildegard. For 
the majority of readers the most convenient collection wiU doubt- 
less be vol. 197 of Migne, Patrologia Latina. This can be supple- 
mented from Cardinal J. B. Pitra's well-edited Analecta sacra, 
the eighth volume of which contains certain otherwise inacces- 
sible works of Hildegard,^ and is the only available edition of 
the Liber vitae meritorum 'per simplicem hominem a vivente luce 

Manuscripts of the writings of our abbess are numerous and 
are widely scattered over Europe. Four of them are of special 
importance for our purpose, and are here briefly described. 

(A) is a vast parchment of 480 folios in the Nassauische Landes- 
bibliothek at Wiesbaden. This much-thumbed volinne, still 
bearing the chain that once tethered it to some monastic desk, 
is written in a thirteenth-century script. There is evidence that 
it was prepared in the neighbourhood of Hildegard's convent, 
if not in that convent itself. It is interesting as a collection of 
those works that the immediate local tradition attributed to her, 
and is thus useful as a standard of genuineness.^ Reference wiU 
be made to it in the following pages as the Wiesbaden Codex A. 
Its contents are as follows : 

1. Liber Scivias. 

2. Liber vitae meritorum. 

1 The ' Acta inquisitionis de virtutibus et miraculis sanotae Hildegardis ' are 
reprinted in Migne, col. 131. 

2 This volume is supplemented by ' Aimotationes ad Nova S. Hildegardis 
Opera ' in Analecta Bollandiana, vol. i, p. 597, Brussels, 1882. 

' This Wiesbaden MS. has been fully described by Antonius van der Linde, 
Die Handschriften der Koniglichen LandesbibliotJieh in Wiesbaden, Wiesbaden, 1877. 

OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 7 

3. Liber divinorum operum. 

4. Ad praelatos moguntienses. 

5. Vita sanctae Hildegardis. By Godefrid and Theodoric. 

6. Liber epistolarum et orationum. This collection contains 

292 items, and includes the Explanatio symboli Athanasii, 
the Exposition of the Rule of St. Benedict, and the 
Lives of St. Disibode and St. Rupert. 

7. Expositiones evangeliorum. 

8. Ignota lingua and Ignotae litterae. 

9. Litterae villarenses. 

10. Symphonia harmoniae celestum revelationum. 

(B) is also at Wiesbaden, and wUl be cited here as the Wies- 
baden Codex B. It contains the Scivias only, and is a truly noble 
volume of 235 folios, beautifully illuminated, in excellent pre- 
servation, and of the highest value for the history of mediaeval 
art. It has been thoroughly investigated by the late Dom Louis 
Baillet,^ who concluded that it was written in or near Bingen 
between the dates 1160 and 1180. Its miniatures help greatly 
in the interpretation of the visions, illustrating them often in the 
minutest and most unexpected details. In view of the great 
difficulty of visualizing much of her narrative, these miniatures 
afford to our mind strong evidence that the MS. was supervised 
by the prophetess herself, or was at least prepared under her 
immediate tradition. This view is confirmed by comparing the 
miniatures with those of the somewhat similar but inferior 
Heidelberg MS. (C). 

Both the miniatures and the script of the Wiesbaden Codex B 
are the work of several hands. There are three distinct hand- 
writings discernible (Plate ii). The earliest is attributed by 
BaiUet in his careful work to the twelfth century^ while the 
later writing is in thirteenth-century hands.^ It thus appears to 
us that while Hildegard herself probably supervised the earlier 
stages of the preparation of this volume, its completion took 
place subsequent to her death. This view is sustained by the fact 

1 Louis Baillet, ' Les Miniatures du Scivias de sainte HUdegarde ', in the Monu- 
ments et Memoires piiblies par VAcademie des Inscriptions et Bdles-Lettres, Paris, 
1912, especially pp. 139 and 145. 

2 We are inclined to place the preparation of this remarkable MS. at a slightly- 
later date than that attributed to it by Baillet. As Wiesbaden is at present 
inaccessible we have reproduced the facsimiles in Plate ii from Baillet's monograph. 


that some of the later miniatures are far less successful than the 
earlier figures in aiding the interpretation of her text. 

The two Wiesbaden MSS. appear to have remained at the 
convent on the Rupertsberg opposite Bingen until the seventeenth 
century. They were studied there by Trithemius in the fifteenth 
century, and one of them at least was seen by the Mayence 
Commission of 1489. Later they were noted by the theologians 
Osiander (1527) and Wicelius (Weitzel, 1554), and by the antiquary 
Nicolaus Serarius (1604). In 1632, during the Thirty Years' War, 
the Rupertsberg buildings were destroyed, the MSS. being removed 
to a place of safety in the neighbouring settlement at Eibingen, 
where they were again recorded in 1660 by the Jesuits Papenbroch 
and Henschen.^ At some unknown date they were transferred to 
Wiesbaden, where they were examined in 1814 by Goethe,^ and 
a few years later by Wilhelm Grimm ,^ and where they have since 

(C) This MS. is at the University Library at Heidelberg. It 
also contains only the Scivias, and it is the only known illuminated 
MS. of that work except the Wiesbaden Codex B. The Heidelberg 
MS. was prepared with great care in the early thirteenth century, 
only a little later than its fellow, but its figures afford little aid 
in the interpretation of the text. Thus, for instance, the Heidelberg 
diagram of the universe (Plate iv) is of a fairly conventional type 
which quite faUs to illustrate the difficult description. The 
obscurities of the text are, however, at once explained by a figure 
in the Wiesbaden Codex B (Pig. 2) : we thus obtain further indirect 
evidence of the personal influence of HUdegard in the preparation 
of that MS. The representation of Hildegard in the Heidelberg 
MS. (Plate III) shows no resemblance to those in the Wiesbaden 
Codex B (Plate i) or in the Lucca MS. (Plates vi to ix), which wiU 
now be described. 

(D) is an illustrated codex of the Liber divinorum operum 
simplicis hominis at the Municipal Library at Lucca. It contains 
ten beautiful miniatures, some of which are here reproduced 
(Plates VI to IX and xi), as they are of special value for the 

^ For the history of these MSS. see A. van der Linde, loc. cit., pp. 30-6. 

^ Goethe, 'AmRhein, MainundNeckar', Cotta's Jubildums-Aicsgabe, vol.xxix, 
p. 258. 

' Wilhelm Grimm in M. Haupt's Zeitschrift fiir deutsches Alterthum, vi, p. 321, 
Leipzig, 1847. 



interpretation of Hildegard's theories on the relation of macro- 
cosm and microcosm. 

This Lucca MS. was described and its text printed in 1761 
by Giovanni Domenico Mansi,^ a careful scholar, who was himself 


}&rs JupiUr anJ SaTurn 



Slightly simplified from the Wiesbaden Codex B, foUo 14 r. 

sometime Archbishop of Lucca. Mansi concluded that it was 
written at the end of the twelfth or the beginning of the 

^ In ifitienne Baluze, Miscellanea novo ordine digesta et non ^aucis ineditis 
monumentis opportunisque animadversionibus aucta opera ac studio J. D. Mansi, 
4 vols., liucca, 1761-6 ; see vol. ii, p. 377. 


thirteenth century. On palaeographical grounds a shghtly later 
date would nowadays probably be preferred (Plate v&). 

The work consists of ten visions, each illustrated by a figure. 
The date, character, and meaniag of these miniatures raise special 
problems to which only very superficial reference can here be 
made. Unfortunately but little work has been done on early 
Italian schools of miniaturists, and it is not a subject on which 
any exact knowledge can yet be said to exist.^ 

Of these ten miniatures we may dismiss the last five in a few 
words. The sixth to the tenth visions are of purely theological 
interest, and the miniatures illustrating them are by a different 
hand to the rest. They are all relatively crude products, which 
appear to us to resemble other Italian work of the period at 
which the MS. was written. We shall concentrate our attention 
on the first five miniatures. 

The first three miniatures of the Lucca MS. (Plates vi to viii) 
may be attributed to the same hand on the following grounds : 

1. All have a very similar inset figure of the prophetess below 
the main picture. 

2. The character of the principal figure of the first miniature 
(Plate vi) is almost identical with the curious universe-embracing 
double-headed figure of the second miniature (Plate vii). 

3. The features and draughtsmanship of the central figure of 
the second miniature (Plate vii) are identical with those of the 
third (Plate vni). 

4. The beasts' heads arranged round the second miniature 
(Plate vn) are exactly reproduced in the third miniature 
(Plate viii). 

Now although these three miniatures are in some respects 
unique, they contain elements enabling us to date them with an 
approach to accuracy. These elements are to be found especially 
in the central figure of the second and third miniatures (Plates vn 
and vm). 

About the middle of the thirteenth century, as Venturi has 
shown,^ there was a well-marked change in Northern Italy in the 
traditional representation of the form on the Cross. This change 
was followed with almost slavish accuracy, and the new form is 
weU represented by a painting in the Uffizi Gallery (Plate x). 

1 Cf. J. A. Herbert, Illuminated Manuscripts, London, 1911, p. 160. 

2 A. Venturi, Storia dell' arte italiana, Milan, in progress, vol. v, p. 16. 

OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 11 

It is this figure of Christ which is reproduced by our miniaturist. 
The central figure of Plates vn and vm resembles that of the 
Uffizi crucifix, for instance, in the general pose of the body, in 
the position of the legs and of the arms, in the treatment of the 
abdominal musculature, in the method of outUning the muscles of 
the legs and of the arms, and in a minute and very constant detail 
by which the outline of the left side is continued with the fold of 
the groin, thus giving an impression of the left thigh being 
advanced on the right. Furthermore, the somewhat Byzantine 
cast of countenance of the figure can be closely paralleled from 
Northern Italian work of the same period. We therefore regard 
these first three miniatures of the Lucca MS. as dating from 
about the middle of the thirteenth century. 

The remaining two miniatures (Plates ix and xi) offer special 
difficulties. Plate xi (Ulustrating the fifth vision) presents us with 
no complete human figures, except the small and probably copied 
inset of the prophetess below the miniature. The faces bear some 
resemblance to those of the last five miniatures ; the wings, on 
the other hand, to those of the first miniature (Plate vi). It is 
perhaps possible that this miniature was the work of an early 
thirteenth-century artist, and that the wings and some other details 
were added by a later hand. The abnormal orientation, east to 
the left and south above, suggests that we have here to do with 
some special influence. 

The most anomalous of all is, however, the beautiful fourth 
miniature (Plate ix). This picture has a general feeling of the 
early Renaissance, though it is hard to find in it any definite 
humanistic element. The nude female figure in the upper left 
quadrant is especially striking. No parallel to it is to be found 
in the thirteenth-century Italian miniatures that have so far been 
reproduced, and it appears to us difficult to date the miniature 
anterior to the fourteenth century at the very earliest. It is, in 
any event, by a different hand to the others. The rashes on the 
patients in the two upper and the right lower quadrants are perhaps 
an attempt to render the fatal ' God's tokens ' of those waves of 
pestUence that devastated the Italian peninsula in the fourteenth 

Whatever the date of these miniatures, however, they reproduce 
the meaning of the text of the Ldher divinorum operum Avith a con- 
vincing certainty and sureness of touch. This work is the most 


difficult of all Hildegard's mystical writings. Without the clues 
provided by the miniatures, many passages in it are wholly 
incomprehensible. It appears to us therefore by no means improb- 
able that the traditional interpretation of Hildegard's works, thus 
preserved to our time by these miniatures and by them alone, 
may have had its origin from the mouth of the prophetess herself, 
perhaps through another set of miniatures that has disappeared 
or has not yet come to light.^ 

IV. The Spurious Scientific Works of Hildegard 

The scientific views of Hildegard are embedded in a theo- 
logical setting, and are mainly encountered in the Scivias and the 
Liber divinorum operum simpUcis hominis. To a less extent they 
appear occasionally in her Epistolae and in the Liber vitae meritorum. 

Two works of non-theological tone and definitely scientific 
character have been printed in her name. One of these was 
recently edited under the title Beatae Hildegardis causae et curae.^ 
A single MS. only of this work is known to exist, and is now 
deposited in the Royal Library of Copenhagen.* It is an iU- 
written document of the thirteenth century, and the original 
work probably dates from this period. It has none of the 
characteristics of the acknowledged work of Hildegard, and 
indeed the only link with her name is the title, which is written 
in a hand different from that of the text (Plate v a). Nothing 
could be more unlike the ecstatic but well-ordered and systematic 
work of the prophetess of Bingen than the prosy disorder of the 
Causae et curae. Linguistically, also, it differs entirely from the 
typical writings of Hildegard, for it is full of Germanisms, which 
never interrupt the eloquence of her authentic works. Again, 
Hildegard's tendency to theoretical speculation, as for instance 

1 We are unable to concur with Baillet, however, that there is enough evidence 
to suggest that the miniaturists of the Lucca MS. had consulted the Wiesbaden 
illuminations. Baillet, loc. cit., p. 147. 

2 Hildegardis causae et curae edidit Paulus Kaiser, Leipzig, B. G. Teubner, 
1903. The MS. was brought to light by C. Jessen in the Sitzungsberichte der kaiserl. 
Akademie der Wissenschaften, Mathematisch-naturwissenschqftliche Klasse, Band xlv, 
Heftl,p. 97, Vienna, 1862. Seealsothe same authoi in Botanik in kuUurhistorischer 
Entwickelung , pp. 124-6, Leipzig, 1862, and in the Anzeiger filr Kunde der deut- 
schen Vorzeit, 1875, p. 175. An imperfect edition appeared in 1882 in Pitra, p. 468, 
under the title Liber compositae medicinae de aegritudinum causis signis atque curis, 

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OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 13 

on the nature of the elements or on the form of the Universe, 
finds no place in the scrappy paragraphs of this apocryphal 

A second work, of somewhat similar character, is entitled 
Subtilitatum diversarumque creaturarum libri novem. This is 
clearly a compilation, and numerous passages in it can be traced 
to such sources as Pliny, Walafrid Strabus, Marbod, Macer, the 
Physiologus, Isidore Hispalensis, Constantine the African, and 
the Regimen Sanitatis Salerni, only the last three of which exerted 
a traceable influence on the genuine works of our authoress. 
Nevertheless this Liber subtilitatum was early printed as Hilde- 
gard's work, along with a treatise attributed with as little justifica- 
tion to another woman writer, Trotula, one of the ladies of 
Salerno, whose name was also a household word in the Middle 
Ages, and was freely attached to medical writings with which 
she had little or nothing to do.^ It is true that Hildegard's con- 
temporary biographer, the monk Theodoric, assures us that she 
had written De natura hom^inis et elementorum,, diversarumque 
creaturarum,^ but there is nothing to suggest that the Liber sub- 
tilitatum is intended thereby. 

The modern scholars Daremberg and Reuss have edited the 
Liber subtilitatum as Hildegard's composition,^ and the work 
attracted the attention of Virchow,* but notwithstanding the 

^ Experimentarius medicinae continens Trotulae curandarum Aegritudinum 
muliebrium .... item quatuor Hildegardis de elementorum, fluminum aliquot Ger- 
maniae, m^tallorum, . . . herbarum, piscium ds animxmtium terrae, naturis et 
operationihus. Edited by G. Kraut, Strasbourg, J. Schott, 1544. The work 
often ascribed to Trotula is somewhat similar to the spurious medical works of 
Bjldegard. Like them, it was probably written early in the thirteenth century. 
Trotula herself lived in the eleventh century, a generation or two before Hilde- 
gard. On Trotula see Salvatore de Renzi, Collectio Salernitana, vol. i, p. 149, 
Naples, 1852. 

" In the Vita, lib. ii, cap. 1 ; Migne, col. 101. 

3 Migne, col. 1125. See also F. A. Reuss, De Libris physicis 8. Hildegardis 
comm^ntatio Mstorico-medica, Wiirzburg, 1835, and ' Der heiUgen Hildegard 
Subtilitatum diversarum naturarum creaturarum libri novem, die werthvollste 
Urkunde deutscher Natur- und Heilkxmde aus dem Mittelalter ' in the Annalen 
des Vereins fiir Nassauische Alterthumskunde und Geachichtsforschung, Band vi,, 
Heft 1, Wiesbaden, 1859. ' 

* Rudolf Virchow, ' Zur Geschichte des Aussatzes und der Spitaler, besonders 
in Deutschland ', in Virchow' s Archiv fiir Pathologie, vol. xviii, p. 285, &c., 
Berlin, 1860. 


authority of these names, the objections which apply to the genuine- 
ness of the Causae et curae are also valid here : 

(a) The Liber suUilitatum is not included in the Wiesbaden 
Codex A. 

(6) The phrase De natura hominis et elementorum diversarumque 
creaturarum, used by Theodoric as a description and by Reuss as 
a title,^ would lead one to expect great emphasis on the nature 
of the elements and their entry into the human frame. Such 
emphasis is not, in fact, discoverable in the Liber subtilitatum, 
which, moreover, does not treat of human anatomy or physiology. 

(c) On the other hand, the genuine Liber divinorum operum 
simplicis hominis does lay stress on these points. This is possibly 
therefore the work to which Theodoric refers, and to it his descrip- 
tion certainly applies well. 

(d) As in the Causae et curae, there are linguistic difficulties that 
prevent us attributing the Liber subtilitatum to Hildegard. Such, 
for instance, is the number of Germanisms as well as the marked 
difference from the style and method of her acknowledged work. 

(e) There are statements in the Liber subtilitatum that can 
scarcely be attributed to our authoress. Having largely explored 
the Rhine basin, and corresponding constantly with writers 
beyond the Alps, how could she possibly derive all rivers, Rhine 
and Danube, Meuse and Moselle, Nahe and Glan, from the same 
lake (of Constance) as does the author of the Liber subtilitatum ? ^ 

(/) Furthermore, although that spurious work has a chapter 
De elementis, it reveals none of Hildegard' s most peculiar and 
definite views as to their nature, origin, and fate,' nor does it refer 
to the sphericity of the earth, to the vascular system of man, to 

1 Reuss, in Migne, cols. 1121 and 1122, states on Theodoric's authority that 
Hildegard had written a book on this subject : ' Exstat inter Ubros virginis fatidicae 
superstites opus argumenti partim physici partim medici, " De natura hominis, 
elementorum diversarumque creaturarum" \n quo, ut Theodoricus idem fusius 
exponit, secreta naturae prophetico spiritu manifestavit.' But Theodoric does 
not in fact anywhere speak of a special work with this title or of this character. 
What he does write is as foUows {Vita, Hb. ii, cap. i, Migne, col. 101) : ' Igitur 
beata virgo . . . Ubrum visionum . . . consummavit et quaedam de natura hominis 
et elementorum, diversarumque creaturarum, et quomodo homini ex his suc- 
ciurendum sit, aliaque multa secreta prophetico spiritu manifestavit.' 

2 Migne, cols. 1212 and 1213. 

3 As detailed in the Liber vitae meritorum, Pitra, p. 228, and in many places 
in the Liber divinorum operum and Scivias. 

OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 15 

the humours and their relation to the winds and the elements, or 
to a dozen other points on which, as we shaU see, Hildegard had 
views of her own. 

Before leaving the subject of Hildegard's apocrjrphal works, 
brief reference may be made to the Speculum futurorum temporum, 
a spurious production to which her name is often attached. It 
exists in innumerable MSS., and has been frequently edited and 
translated. It is the work of Gebeno, prior of Eberbach, who 
wrote it in 1220, claiming that he extracted it from Hildegard's 
writings. Another work erroneously attributed to Hildegard 
is entitled Bevelatio de fratribus quatuor mendicantium ordinum, 
and is directed against the four mendicant orders — Franciscans, 
Dominicans, Carmelites, and Augustinians. It also has been 
printed, but is whoUy spurious, and was probably composed 
towards the latter part of the thirteenth century. 

V. SouECES OF Hildegard's Scientific Knowledge 

In the works of Hildegard we are dealing with the products 
of a peculiarly original intellect, and her imaginative power and 
mystical tendency make an exhaustive search into the origin of 
her ideas by no means an easy task. With her theological stand- 
point, as such, we are not here concerned, and unfortunately she 
does not herself refer to any of her sources other than the Biblical 
books ; to have cited profane writers would indeed have involved 
the abandonment of her claim that her knowledge was derived by 
immediate inspiration from on high. Nevertheless it is possible 
to form some idea, on internal evidence, of the origin of many of 
her scientific conceptions. 

The most striking point concerning the sources of Hildegard 
is negative. There is no German linguistic element distinguish- 
able in her writings, and they show little or no trace of native 
German folk-lore.^ It is true that Trithemius of Sponheim (1462- 
1516), who is often a very inaccurate chronicler, tells us that 
Hildegard ' composed works in German as well as in Latin, although 
she had neither learned nor used the latter tongue except for 

1 Aa exception must be made for the lingua ignota, which is presumably 
hers. The absence of Germanisms in her other writings may be partly due to 
the work of an editor. See the Vita by Theodoric, Migne, col. 101. Also the 
birth scene (see chapter ix below) is perhaps adapted from a German folk-tale. 


simple psalmody'.^ But with the testimony before us of the 
writings themselves and of her skilful use of Latin, the state- 
ment of Trithemius and even the hints of Hildegard ^ may be 
safely discounted and set down to the wish to magnify the element 
of inspiration.* So far from her having been illiterate, we shall 
show that the structure and details of her works betray a con- 
siderable degree of learning and much painstaking study of the 
works of others. Thus, for instance, she skilfully manipulates 
the Hippocratic doctrines of miasma and the humours, and 
elaborates a theory of the interrelation of the two which, though 
developed on a plan of her own, is yet clearly borrowed in its 
broad outline from such a writer as Isidore of Seville. Again, as 
we shall see, some of her ideas on anatomy seem to have been 
derived from Constantine the African, who belonged to the Bene- 
dictine monastery of Monte Cassino.* 

1 Johannes Trithemius, Chronicon insigne Monasterii Hirsaugensis, Ordinis 
St. Benedicti, Basel, 1559, p. 174. 

2 Migne, col. 384. 

* It is not enough to suppose with some of her biographers that the visions 
were dictated by Hildegard and were latinized by a secretary. The visions 
imply a good deal of study and considerable book-learning. Among many reasons 
for believing that she had a very serviceable knowledge of Latin are the following : 

(a) She was well acquainted with the Biblical writings and quotes them aptly 
and frequently. 

(b) She was regarded by her contemporaries as an authority on scriptural 
interpretation and on Church discipline, and was frequently consulted by them 
on these subjects. 

(c) She pleaded in person before clerical tribunals. 

{d) One of the least remarkable and most credible of her ' miracles ', the 
expounding of certain letters found upon an altar-cloth (Migne, col. 121), depends 
entirely on a knowledge of Latin. 

(e) In the Liber divinorum operum (Migne, col. 922) she writes ' firmamentum 
celum nominavit quoniam omnia excellit ', a derivation taken from Isidore and 
incomprehensible to one ignorant of Latin. There are many other passages in her 
works in which the sense depends on the Latin usage of a word. 

(/) No mention of this ignorance is made by Guibert in the short sketch of 
her life that he wrote almost immediately after her death (1180 ; see Pitra, 
p. 407). On the contrary, he suggests that she had been an industrious student. 

(gr) The Liber divinorum operum may especially be pointed out among her 
works as betraying a very considerable degree of learning. Notably her elaborate 
doctrine of the macrocosm and microcosm must have involved extensive reading. 

The general question of Hildegard's knowledge of Latin has also been dis- 
cussed by Pitra and by Albert Battandier in the Revue des questions historiqvss ,' 
vol. xxxiii, p. 395, Paris, 1883. * See chapter viii. 

OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 17 

Hildegard lived at rather too early a date to drink from the 
broad stream of new knowledge that was soon to flow into Em-ope 
through Paris from its reservoir in Moslem Spain. Such drops 
from that source as may have reached her must have trickled 
in either from the earlier Italian translators or from the Jews 
who had settled in the Upper Rhineland, for it is very unlikely 
that she was influenced by the earlier twelfth-century transla- 
tions of Averroes, Avicenna, Avicebron, and Avempace, that 
passed into France from the Jews of Marseilles, Montpellier, and 
Andalusia.^ Her intellectual field was thus far more patristic 
than would have been the case had her life-course been even a 
quarter of a century later. 

Her science is primarily of the usual degenerate Greek type, 
disintegrated fragments of Aristotle and Galen coloured and 
altered by the customary mediaeval attempts to bring theory 
into line with scriptural phraseology, though a high degree of 
independence is obtaiaed by the visionary form in which her 
views are set. She exhibits, like all mediaeval writers on science, 
the Aristotelian theory of the elements, but her statement of 
the doctrine is illuminated by flashes of her own thoughts and is 
coloured by suggestions from St. Augustine, Isidore Hispalensis, 
Bernard Sylvestris of Tours, and perhaps from writings attributed 
to Boethius. 

The translator Gerard of Cremona (1114-87) was her con- 
temporary, and his labours made available for western readers 
a number of scientific works which had previously circulated only 
among Arabic-speaking peoples.^ Several of these works, notably 
Ptolemy's Almagest, Messahalah's De Orbe, and the Aristotelian 
De Caelo et Mundo, contain material on the form of the universe 
and on the nature of the elements, and some of them probably 
reached the Rhineland in time to be used by Hildegard. The 

1 It is, however, just possible that she had consulted the astrological work 
that had been translated from the Arabic by Hermann the Dalmatian for 
Bernard Sylvestris, and is represented in the Bodleian MSS. Digby 46 and 
Ashmole 304. 

2 See Baldassare Boncompagni, Delia vita e delle opere di Gherardo Cremonese, 
Traduttore del secolo duodecimo, e di Gherardo di Sabbionetta, Astronomo del secolo 
decimoterzo, Rome, 1851 ; also K. Sudhofi, ' Die kurze " Vita " und das Ver- 
zeichnis der Arbeiten Gerhards von Cremona, von seinen Schiilern und Studien- 
genossen kurz nach dem Tode des Meisters (1187) zu Toledo verabfasst ', in Archiv 
fur Geschichte der Medizin, Bd. viii, p. 73, November 1914. 

1892 O 


Almagest, however, was not translated until 1175, and was thus 
inaccessible to Hildegard.^ Moreover, as she never uses an Arabic 
medical term, it is reasonably certain that she did not consult 
Gerard's translation of Avicenna, which is crowded with 

On the other hand, the influence of the Salernitan school may 
be discerned in several of her scientific ideas. The Regimen 
Sanitatis of Salerno, written about 1101, was rapidly diffused 
throughout Europe, and must have reached the Rhineland at least 
a generation before the Liber Divinorum Operum was composed. 
This cycle of verses may well have reinforced some of her micro- 
cosmic ideas,^ and suggested also her views on the generation of 
man,* on the effects of wind on health,* and on the influence of 
the stars.^ 

On the subject of the form of the earth Hildegard expressed 
herself definitely as a spherist,* a point of view more widely 
accepted in the earlier Middle Ages than is perhaps generally 
supposed. She considers in the usual mediaeval fashion that this 
globe is surrounded by celestial spheres that influence terrestrial 
events.'' But while she claims that human affairs, and especially 
human diseases, are controlled, imder God, by the heavenly 
cosmos, she yet commits herself to none of that more detailed 
astrological doctrine that was developing in her time, and came 
to efflorescence in the following centuries. In this respect she 
foUows the earlier and somewhat more scientific spirit of such 
writers as Messahalah, rather than the wilder theories of her own 
age. The shortness and simplicity of Messahalah's tract on the 
sphere made it very popular. It was probably one of the earliest 
to be translated into Latin ; and its contents would account for 

^ Another translation of the Almagest was made in Sicily in 1160, direct from 
the Greek. See C. H. Haskins and D. P. Lockwood, ' The Sicilian Translators of 
the Twelfth Century and the First Latin Version of Ptolemy's Almagest ', in 
Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, xi. 75, Cambridge, Mass., 1910. It is wholly 
improbable that Hildegard had access to this rendering, which is only known 
from a single MS. of the fourteenth century. 

2 De Renzi, Collectio Salernitana, vol. i, p. 485, and vol. v, p. 50. 

3 De Renzi, i. 486 and 495 ; v. 51 and 70. 

4 De Renzi, i. 446 ; v. 3. 

5 De Renzi, i. 485-6 ; v. 50-2. 

* Scivias, Migne, col. 403, and Liber Divinorum Operum, Migne, col. 868 and 

' Scivias, Migne, col. 404, and throughout the Liber Divinorum Operum. 

OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 19 

the change which, as we shall see, came over Hildegard's scientific 
views in her later years. 

The general concpption of the universe as a series of concentric 
elemental spheres had certainly penetrated to Western Europe 
centuries before Hildegard's time. Nevertheless the prophetess 
presents it to her audience as a new and striking revelation. We 
may thus suppose that translations of Messahalah, or of whatever 
other work she drew upon for the purpose, did not reach the 
Upper Rhineland, or rather did not become accepted by the circles 
in which Hildegard moved, until about the decade 1141-60, during 
which she was occupied in the composition of her Scivias. 

There is another cosmic theory, the advent of which to 
her country, or at least to her circle, can be approximately 
dated from her work. Hildegard exhibits in a pronounced but 
peculiar and original form the doctrine of the macrocosm and 
microcosm. Hardly distinguishable in the Scivias (1141-60), it 
appears definitely in the Liber Vitae Meritorum (1158-62),^ in 
which work, however, it takes no very prominent place, and is 
largely overlaid and concealed by other lines of thought. But in 
the Liber Divinorum Operum (1163-70) this belief is the main 
theme. The book is indeed an elaborate attempt to demonstrate \ 
a similarity and relationship between the nature of the Godhead, 
the constitution of the universe, and the structure of man, and 
it thus forms a valuable compendium of the science of the day 
viewed from the standpoint of this theory. 

From whence did she derive the theory of macrocosm and 
microcosm ? In outline its elements were easily accessible to her 
in Isidore's De Rerum Natura as well as in the Salernitan poems. 
But the work of Bernard Sylvestris of Tours, De mundi universitate 
sive megacosmus et microcosmus,^ corresponds so closely both in 
form, in spirit, and sometimes even in phraseology, to the Liber 
Divinorum Operum that it appears to us certain that Hildegard 
must have had access to it also. Bernard's work can be dated 

1 Pitra, pp. 8, 114-16, 156, and 216. 

2 The work of Bernard Sylvestris has been printed by C. S. Barach and 
J. Wrobel, Innsbruck, 1876. His identity, his sources, and his views are dis- 
cussed by Charles Jourdain, Dissertation sur I'etat de la philosophie naturelle . . . 
pendant la premiere moitie du XIP siecle ; by A. Clerval, Les Bcoles de Ghartres 
au Moyen Age, Paris, 1895, p. 259, &c. ; by R. L. Poole, Illustrations of the 
History of Mediaeval Thought, London, 1884, p. 116, &c. ; and by J. E. Sandys, 
History of Classical Scholarship, Cambridge, 1903, vol. i, p. 513, &c. 



between the years 1145-53 from his reference to the papacy of 
Eugenius III. This would correspond well with the appearance 
of his doctrines in the Liber Vitae Meritorum (1158-62) and their 
full development in the Liber Divinorum Operum (1163-70). 

Another contemporary writer with whom Hildegard presents 
points of contact is Hugh of St. Victor (1095-1141).^ In his writings 
the doctrine of the relation of macrocosm and microcosm is more 
veiled than with Bernard Sylvestris. Nevertheless, his symbolic 
universe is on the lines of Hildegard' s belief, and the plan of his 
De area Noe mystica presents many parallels both to the Scivias 
and to the Liber Divinorum Operum. If these do not owe anything 
directly to Hugh, they are at least products of the same mystical 
movement as were his works. 

We may also recall that at Hildegard' s date very complex 
cabalistic systems involving the doctrine of macrocosm and 
microcosm were being elaborated by the Jews, and that she 
lived in a district where Rabbinic mysticism specially flourished.^ 
Benjamin of Tudela, who visited Btngen during Hildegard' s Hfe- 
time, teUs us that he found there a congregation of his people. 
Since we know, moreover, that she was familiar with the Jews,* 
it is possible that she may have derived some of the very complex 
macrocosmic conceptions with which her last work is crowded 
from local Jewish students. 

The Alsatian Herrade de Landsberg (died 1195), a contemporary 
of Hildegard, developed the microcosm theory along lines similar 
to those of our abbess, and it is probable that the theory, in the 
form in which these writers present it, reached the Upper Rhineland 
somewhere about the middle or latter half of the twelfth century. 

Apart from the Biblical books, the work which made the 
deepest impression on Hildegard was probably Augustine's De 
Civitate Dei, which seems to form the background of a large part 
of the Scivias. The books of Ezekiel and of Daniel, the Gospel 
of Nicodemus, the Shepherd of Hermas, and the Apocalypse, aU 
contain a lurid type of vision which her own spiritual experiences 

1 The works of Hugh of St. Victor are published in Migne, Patrologia Latina, 

2 The Kalonymos family furnished prominent examples. 

^ Charles Singer, ' Allegorical Representation of the Synagogue, in a Twelfth- 
Century Illuminated MS. of Hildegard of Bingen ', Jewish Quarterly Review, new 
series, vol. v, p. 268, Philadelphia, 1915. For further evidence of Hildegard's 
acquaintance with the Jews see Pitra, p. 216 ; and Migne, cols. 967 and 1020-36. 

From the LUCCA MS. fo. Iv 


•o m 

the LUCCA MS. fo. 9 r 


OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 21 

would enable her to utilize, and which fit in well with her micro- 
cosmic doctrines. Ideas on the harmony and disharmony of the 
elements she may have picked up from such works as the Wisdom 
of Solomon and the Pauline writings, though it is obvious that 
Isidore of Seville and the Regimen Sanitatis Salerni were also 
drawn upon by her. 

Her figure of the Church in the Scivias reminds us irresistibly 
of Boethius' vision of the gracious feminine form of Philosophy. 
Again, the visions of the punishments of Hell which Hildegard 
recounts in the Liber Vitae Meritorum ^ bear resemblance to the 
work of her contemporary Benedictine, the monk Alberic the 
younger of Monte Cassino, to whom Dante also became indebted.^ 

Hildegard repeatedly assures us that most of her knowledge 
was revealed to her in waking visions. Some of these we shall 
seek to show had a pathological basis, probably of a migrainous 
character, and she was a sufferer from a condition that would 
nowadays probably be classified as hystero-epilepsy. Too much 
stress, however, can easily be laid on the ecstatic presentment of 
her scientific views. Visions, it must be remembered, were ' the 
fashion ' at the period, and were a common literary device. Her 
contemporary Benedictine sister, Elizabeth of Schonau, as well 
as numerous successors, as for example Gertrude of Robersdorf, 
adopted the same mechanism. The use of the vision for this 
purpose remained popular for centuries, and we may say of these 
writers, as Ampere says of Dante, that ' the visions gave not the 
genius nor the poetic inspiration, but the form merely in which 
they were realized '. 

The contemporaries of Hildegard who provide the closest 
analogy to her are Elizabeth of Schonau (died 1165), whose 
visions are recounted in her life by Eckbertus ; * and Herrade 
de Landsberg, Abbess of Hohenburg in Alsace, the priceless 
MS. of whose Hortus Deliciarum was destroyed by the Germans 
in the siege of Strasbourg in 1870.* With Elizabeth of Schonau, 

1 Pitra, p. 51 et seq. 

2 Catello de Vivo, La Visions di Alberico, ristampata, fradotta e comparata con 

la Divina Commedia, Ariano, 1899. For a comparison of Dante's visions and \ 
those of HSldegard see VUbert Battandier in the Bevue des questions Jiistoriques , J 
vol. xxxiii, p. 422, Paris, 1883. ^ Reprinted in Migne, vol. 195. 

* Herrade de Landsberg, Hortus Deliciarum, by A. Strauh and G. Keller, 
Strasbourg, 1901, with two supplements. 


who lived in her neighbourhood, Hildegard was in frequent 
correspondence. With Herrade she had, so far as is known, 
no direct communication ; but the two were contemporary, 
Kved not very far apart, and under similar political and cultural 
conditions. Elizabeth's visions present some striking analogies 
to those of Hildegard, while the figures of Herrade, of which copies 
have fortunately survived, often suggest the illustrations of the 
Wiesbaden or of the Lucca MSS. 

VI. The Structuee op the Material Universe 

To the student of the history of science, Hildegard' s beliefs 
as to the nature and structure of the universe are among the 
most interesting that she has to impart. Her earlier theories 
are in some respects unique among mediaeval writers, and we 
possess in the Wiesbaden Codex B a diagram enabling us to 
interpret her views with a definiteness and certainty that would 
otherwise be impossible. 

HUdegard's universe is geocentric, and consists of a spherical 
earth,^ around which are arranged a number of concentric shells 
or zones. The inner zones are spherical, the outer oval, and the 
outermost of all egg-shaped, with one end prolonged and more 
pointed than the other (Fig. 2). The concentric structure is 
a commonplace of mediaeval science, and is encountered, for 
instance, in the works of Bede, Isidore, Alexander of Neckam, 
Roger Bacon, Albertus Magnus, and Dante. To all these writers, 
however, the universe is spherical. The egg-shape is peculiar to 
Hildegard. Many of the Mappaemundi of the Beatus and other 
types exhibit the surface of the habitable earth itself as oval, 
and it was from such charts that HUdegard probably gained her 
conception of an oval universe. In her method of orientation 
also she follows these maps, placing the east at the top of the 
page where we are accustomed to place the north.* 

It is unfortunate that she does not deal with geography in the 
restricted sense, and so we are not in full possession of her views 
on the antipodes, a subject of frequent derision to patristic and 
of misconception to scholastic writers. She does, however, vaguely 

1 For sphericity of earth see especially Migne, cols. 868 and 903. 

2 In her later Liber Divinorum Simplicis Hominis this method of orientation 
is varied both in the text and also in the Lucca illustrations. 

OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 23 

refer to the inversion of seasons and climates in the opposite 
hemisphere,^ though .she confuses the issue by the adoption of 
a theory widespread in the Middle Ages and reproduced in the 
Divina Commedia, that the antipodean surface of the earth is 
uninhabitable, since it is either beneath the ocean or in the mouth 
of the Dragon^ (Plate xi, cp. Fig. 4). The nature of the antipodean 
inversion of climates was clearly grasped by her contemporary, 
Herrade de Landsberg (Fig. 5). 

Hildegard's views as to the internal structure of the terrestrial 
sphere are also somewhat difficult to follow. Her obscure and 
confused doctrine of Purgatory and Hell has puzzled other writers 
besides ourselves,' nor need we consider it here, but she held 
that the interior of the earth contained two vast spaces shaped 
like truncated cones, where punishment was meted out and 
whence many evil things had issue.* Her whole scheme presents 
analogies as well as contrasts to that of her kindred spirit 
Dante.* Hildegard, however, who died before the thirteenth 
century had dawned, presents us with a scheme far less definite 
and elaborated than that of her great successor, who had all 
the stores of the golden age of scholasticism on which to 

In Hildegard's first diagram of the universe, which is of the 
nature of an ' optical section ', the world, the sphaera elemen- 
torum of Johannes Sacro Bosco and other mediaeval writers, is 
diagrammaticaUy represented as compounded of earth, air, fire, 
and water confusedly mixed in what her younger contemporary, 
Alexander of Neckam (1157-1217), calls ' a certain concordant 
discord of the elements '. In the illustrations to the Wiesbaden 
Codex B the four elements have each a conventional method 
of representation, which appears again and again in the different 
miniatures (Fig. 2 and Plates xn and xiii). 

Around this world with its four elements is spread the 
atmosphere, the aer lucidus or alba pellis, diagrammaticaUy 
represented, like the earth which it enwraps, as circular. Through 
this alba pellis no creature of earth can penetrate. Beyond are 

1 Migne, col. 906. ' Migne, cols. 903-4. 

3 See H. Osbom Taylor, The Mediaeval Mind, vol. i, p. 472, London, 1911. 
* Migne, cols. 904^6. 

5 H. Osborn Taylor, The Mediaeval Mind, i. 468, 471 ; ii. 569. See also 
A. Battandier, Bevue des questions historiques, vol. xxxiii, p. 422, Paris, 1883. 


ranged in order four further shells or zones. Each zone contains 
one of the cardinal winds, and each cardinal wind is accompanied 
by two accessory winds, represented in the traditional fashion by 
the breath of supernatural beings. 

Of the four outer zones the first is the aer aquosus, also 
round, from which blows the east wind. In the outer part of the 
aer aquosus float the clouds, and according as they contract or 
expand or are blown aside, the heavenly bodies above are revealed 
or concealed. 

Enwrapping the aer aquosus is the purus aether, the widest 
of all the zones. The long axis of this, as of the remaining 
outer shells, is in the direction from east to west, thus determin- 
ing the path of movement of the heavenly bodies. Scattered 
through the puru^ aether are the constellations of the fixed stars, 
and arranged along the long axis are the moon and the two 
inner planets. From this zone blows the west wind. The position 
and constitution of this purus aether is evidently the result of 
some misinterpretation of Aristotelian writings. 

The next zone, the umbrosa pellis or ignis niger, is a narrow 
dark shell, whence proceed the more dramatic meteorological 
events. Here, following on the hints of the Wisdom of Solomon 
(chap, v) and the Book of Job (chap, xxxviii), are situated the 
diagrammatically portrayed treasuries of lightning and of hail. 
From here the tempestuous north wind bursts forth. This ignis 
niger is clearly comparable to the dry earthy exhalation that 
works of the Peripatetic school regard as given off by the outer 
fiery zone. The presence of the ignis niger thus suggests some 
contact on the part of the authoress with the teaching of the 
Meteorologica of Aristotle.^ 

The outermost layer of all is a mass of flames, the lucidus 
ignis. Here are the sun and the three outer planets, and from 
here the south wind pours its scorching breath (Fig. 2). 

The movements of the foiu- outer zones around each other, 
carrying the heavenly bodies with them, are attributed to the 

1 The Meteorologica had been translated about 1150 by Aristippus, the minister 
of WiUiain the Bad of SicUy. The version of Aristippus passed quickly into circula- 
tion (Valentine Rose, ' Die Liicke im Diogenes Laertus und der alte Ubersetzer ' 
in Hermes, i. 376, Berlin, 1866), but hardly soon enough for Hildegard's Scivias, 
which was completed about 1150. It is, of course, possible that the references to the 
ignis niger are later interpolations, but this is very unlikely in view of the way in 
which she speaks of this vision in the Liber Divinorum Operum. 

OP SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 25 

winds in each zone. The seasonal variations in the movements 
of the heavenly bodies, along with the recurring seasons them- 
selves, are also determined by the prevalent winds, which, acting 
as the motive power upon the various zones, form a celestial 
parallelogram of forces. In this way is ingeniously explained also 
why in spring the days lengthen and in autumn they shorten 
until in either case an equinox is reached (Fig. 2). 

' I looked and behold the east and the south wind with their 
collaterals, moving the firmament by the power of their breath, 
caused it to revolve over the earth from east to west ; and in the 
same way the west and north winds and their collaterals, receiv- 
ing the impulse and projecting their blast, thrust it back again 
from west to east. . . . 

' I saw also that as the days began to lengthen, the south 
wind and his collaterals gradually raised the firmament in the 
southern zone upwards towards the north, until the days ceased 
to grow longer. Then when the days began to shorten, the north 
wind with his collaterals, shrinking from the brightness of the 
sun, drove the firmament back gradually southward until by 
reason of the lengthening days the south wind began yet again 
to raise it up ' ^ (Plates vn and viii). 

Intimately bound up not only with her theory of the nature 
and structure of the universe but also with her eschatological 
beliefs is HUdegard's doctrine of the elements. Before the fall 
of man these were arranged in a harmony,^ which was disturbed 
by that catastrophe (Plate xii a),' so that they have since 
remained in the state of mingled confusion in which we always 
encounter them on the terrestrial globe. This mistio, to use 
the mediaeval Aristotelian term, is symbolized by the irregular 
manner in which the elements are represented in the central 
sphere of the diagram of the universe (Fig. 2). Thus mingled 
they will remain untU subjected to the melting-pot of the Last 

1 Migne, cols. 789-91. 2 Migne, col. 389. 

* Plate xn a. The elements are represented in their original order undis- 
turbed by the Fall. Uppermost is the punis aetJier or aer liu:,idus containing the 
stars and representing the element air in Hildegard's cosmic system. Next comes 
water. Below, and to the left, is a dark mass separating into tongues, one of which 
is formed into a serpent's head. These tongues are flames of fire. Below, and to 
the right, are plants and flowers emblematical of earth. The serpent, the enemy, 
vomits over a cloud of stars (signifying the fallen angels) that are borne downward 
by the falling Adam. In the four corners of the miniature the symbols of the 
elements are again displayed. 


Judgement (Plate xin),^ when they will emerge in a new and eternal 
harmony, no longer mixed as matter, but separate and pure, 
parts of the new heaven and the new earth (Plate xn 6).^ 

' But the heavens and the earth, which are now, ... are kept 
in store and reserved unto fire against the day of judgment and 
perdition of ungodly men. . . . But the day of the Lord will come 
... in the which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, 
and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also and 
the works that are therein shall be burned up. . . . Nevertheless 
we, according to his promise, look for new heavens and a new 
earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness' (2 Peter iii. 7, 10, and 13). 

So Hildegard, acting on a scriptural hint, is enabled to 
dematerialize her doctrine of the after -things. 

But although since man's fall the elements have lost their 
order and their harmony on this terrestrial orb, yet is that harmony 
still in part preserved in the celestial spheres that encircle and 
surround our globe ; and water, air, earth, and fire have each 
their respective representatives in the four concentric zones, the 
aer ajuosus, the purus aether, the umbrosa pelUs, and the lucidus 
ignis (Fig. 2). These are the -' superior elements ' which still 
retain some at least of their individuality and primal purity. 
From each of their spheres blows, as we have seen, one of the 
cardinal winds, and each wind partakes of the elemental character 
of the zone whence it issues, and has a corresponding influence 

1 Plate xin. Above, in a circle, sits the Heavenly Judge. He is flanked on 
either side by groups of angels bearing the cross and other symbols. The lower 
circle exhibits the final destruction of the elemental Universe. The four winds and 
their collaterals are here subjecting the elements to the crucible heat of their com- 
bined blasts. Strewn among the elements can be seen men, plants, and animals. 
Between the circles is an angel sounding the last trump, and holding the recording 
roll of good and evil deeds. He faces the throng of the righteous who are rising 
from their bones, while he turns his back on the weeping crowd of those doomed 
to torment. Below these latter crouches Satan, now enchained. 

2 Plate xn b. In the highest circle is the Trinity flanked to the left by the 
Virgin and to the right by the Baptist, with Cherubim below. In the middle circle 
are two groups, the Saints above and the Prophets and Apostles below. In the 
lowest circle are the elements, now rearranged in their eternal harmony ; upper- 
most of these is the purus aether now separated from the aer lucidus and containing 
the stars ; on either side are light-coloured flame-like processes representing 
the air ; below the aether is water, indicated by a zone of undulating lines ; then 
comes the earth symbolized, as usual, by a group of plants. Below and to the 
side of earth are dark-coloured flames of fire, now controlled and confined to this 
lowest rung. 

OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 27 

on man's body, since each of the four humours is specifically- 
affected by the element to which it corresponds. 

' Then I saw that by the diverse quality of the winds, and of 
the atmosphere as they in turn sweep through it, the humours in 
man are agitated and altered. For in each of the superior elements 
there is a breath of corresponding quality by which, through the 
power of the winds, the corresponding element [below] is forced 
to revolve in the atmosphere, and in no other way is it moved. 
And by one of those winds, with the agency of sun, moon, and 
stars, the atmosphere which tempers the world is breathed forth ' ^ 
(Plate vii). 

This doctrine of the relation of the various winds to the four 
elements and through them to the four humours is found in the 
De Rerum Natura of Isidore of Seville, and is occasionally illustrated 
in European MSS. from the ninth century onward,^ but we meet 
it set forth with special definiteness in the twelfth century in the 
translations from Messahalah. It is encountered also in the work 
of Herrade de Landsberg. In and after the thirteenth century 
it had become a commonplace. 

The description we have given of the universe was in the 
main set forth by Hildegard in her first work, the Scivias (1141- 
50).* Subsequently she became dissatisfied with the account she 
had given, and while not withdrawing it, she sought in the Liber 
Divinorum O'perum (1163-70) so to modify the original present- 
ment as to bring it more into line with accepted views. Thus 
she writes : ' There appeared to me in vision a dish very like that 
object which I saw twenty-eight years ago of the form of an egg, 
in the third vision of my book Scivias. In the outer part of the 
disk there was as it were the lucidus ignis, and beneath it the 
circle of the ignis niger was portrayed . . . and these two circles 
were so joined as to be one circle.' There was thus one outer 
zone representing the fire. ' Under the circle of the ignis niger 
there was another circle in the likeness of the purus aether which 
was of the same width as the two conjoined [outer] fiery circles. 
And below this circle again was the circle of the aer aquosus as 
wide as the lucidus ignis. And below this circle was yet another 

1 Migne, col. 791. 

2 See Ernest Wickersheimer, ' Figures medico-astrologiques des neuvieme, 
dixie me et onzieme siecles ', in the Transactions of the Seventeenth International 
Congress of Medicine, Section XXIII, History of Medicine ', p. 313, London, 1913. 

* Migne, cols. 403-14. 


circle, the fortis et albus lucidusque aer . . . the width whereof 
was as the width of the ignis niger, and these circles were joined 
to make one circle which was thus again of width equal to the 
outer two. Again, under this last circle yet another circle, the aer 
tenuis, was distinguishable, which could be seen to raise itself as 
a cloud, sometimes high and light, sometimes depressed and dark, 
and to diffuse itself as it were throughout the whole disk. . . . The 
outermost fiery circle perfuses the other circles with its fire, whUe 
the watery circle saturates them with its moisture, [cp. Wisdom 
of Solomon, xix. 18-20]. And from the extreme eastern part 
of the disk to the extreme west a line is stretched out [i. e. the 
equator] which separates the northern zones from the others ' ^ 
(see Fig. 3 and Plates vii and viii). 

The earth lies concentrically with the aer tenuis, and its measure- 
ments are given thus : ' In the midst of the aer tenuis a globe 
was indicated, the circumference of which was everywhere equi- 
distant from the fortis et albus lucidusque aer, and it was as far 
across as the depth of the space from the top of the highest 
circle to the extremity of the clouds, or from the extremity of the 
clouds to the circumference of the inner globe ' ^ (Fig. 3). 

In her earlier work, the Scivias, Hildegard had not apparently 
reahzed the need of accounting for the independent movements of 
the planets other than the sun and moon. She had thus placed the 
moon and two of the moving stars in the purus aether, and the sun 
and the three remaining moving stars in the lucidus ignis. Since 
these spheres were moved by the winds, their contained planets 
would be subject to the same influences. In the Liber Divinorum 
Operum, however, she has come to realize how independent the 
movements of the planets reaUy are, and she invokes a special cause 
for their vagaries. ' I looked and behold in the outer fire {lucidus 
ignis) there appeared a circle which girt about the whole firmament 
from the east westward. From it a blast produced a movement 
from west to east in the opposite direction to the movement of the 
firmament. But this blast did not give forth his breath earthward 
as did the other winds, but instead thereof it governed the course 
of the planets.' ^ The source of the blast is represented in the Lucca 
MS. as the head of a supernatural being with a human face 
(Plate vin). 

These curious passages were written at some date after 1163, 
when Hildegard was at least 65 years old. They reveal our pro- 
' Migne, col. 751. 2 j/Qgne, col. 791. 

From the LUCCA MS. f o. 27V 


Plate IX. From THE LUCCA MS, fo. 37: 


OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 29 

phetess attempting to revise much of her earher theory of the 
universe, and whUe seeking to justify her earher views, endeavour- 
ing also to bring them into Kne with the new science that was now 
just beginning to reach her world. Note that (a) the universe 
has become round ; (6) there is an attempt to arrange the zones 
according to their density, i, e. from without inwards, fire, air 
(ether), water, earth ; (c) exact measurements are given ; {d) 
the watery zone is continued earthward so as to mingle with the 




Reconstructed from her measurements, ab, cd, and ef are all equal to each other, as 

are also gh, hk, and kl. The clouds are situated in the outer part of the aer tenuis, 

and form a prolongation downwards from the aer aqvasv^ towards the earth. 

central circle. In all these and other respects she is joining the 
general current of mediaeval science then beginning to be moulded 
by works translated from the Arabic. Her knowledge of the 
movements of the heavenly bodies is entirely innocent of the 
doctrine of epicycles, but in other respects her views have come 
to resemble those, for instance, of Messahalah, one of the simplest 
and easiest writers on the sphere available in her day. Further- 
more, her conceptions have developed so as to fit in with the 


macrocosm-microcosm scheme which she grasped about the year 
1 158. Even in her latest work, however, her theory of the universe 
exhibits differences from that adopted by the schoolmen, as may 
be seen by comparing her diagram with, for example, the scheme 
of Dante (Fig. 4). 

Like many mediaeval writers, Hildegard would have liked to 
imagine an ideal state of the elemental spheres in which the 
rarest, fire, was uppermost, and the densest, earth, undermost. 
Such a scheme was, in fact, purveyed by Bernard Sylvestris and 
by Messahalah. Her conceptions were however disturbed by the 
awkward facts that water penetrated below the earth, and indeed 
sought the lowest level, whUe air and not water lay immediately 
above the earth's surface. Mediaeval writers adopted various 
devices and expended a great amount of ingenuity in deahng with 
this discrepancy, which was a constant source of obscurity and 
confusion. Hildegard devotes much space and some highly in- 
volved allegory both in the Scivias and in the Liber Divinorum 
Operum to the explanation of the difficulty, while Dante himself 
wrote a treatise in high scholastic style on this very subject.^ 

VII. Macrocosm and Miceocosm 

The winds and elements of the outer universe, the macrocosm, 
become in HUdegard's later schemes intimately related to struc- 
tures and events within the body of man himself, the microcosm, 
the being around whom the universe centres. The terms macro- 
cosm and microcosm are not employed by her, but in her last great 
work, the Liber Divinorum Operum, she succeeds in most eloquent 
and able fashion in synthesizing into one great whole, centred 
around this doctrine, her theological beliefs and her physiological 
knowledge, together with her conceptions of the working of the 
human mind and of the structure of the universe. The work is 
thus an epitome of the science of the time viewed through the 
distorting medium of this theory. In studying it the modern 
reader is necessarily hampered by the bizarre and visionary form 
into which the whole subject is cast. Nevertheless the scheme, 
though complex and difficult, is neither incoherent nor insane, 
as at first sight it may seem. On the contrary, it is a highly 

^ The Quaestio deAquaet Terra is doubtless a genuine, albeit the least pleasing, 
production of the great poet. The genuineness is established by Vincenzo Balgi 
in his edition, Modena, 1907. 

About the middle of the Xlllth Century 

Slightly modified from Michelangelo Caetani, duca di Sermoneta, La materia ddla Divina 
Commedia di Dante Allighieri dichiarata in VI tavole, Monte Cassino, 1855. 


systematic and skiKul presentment of a cosmic theory which for 
centuries dominated scientific thought. 

As an explanation of the complexity of existence which thinkers 
of all ages have sought to bring within the range of some simple 
formula, this theory of the essential similarity of macrocosm and 
microcosm held in the Middle Ages, during the Renaissance, and 
even into quite modern times, a position comparable to that of the 
theory of evolution in our own age. If at times it passed into 
fglly and fantasy, it should be remembered that it also fulfilled 
a high purpose. It gave a meaning to the facts of nature and 
a formula to the naturalist, it unified philosophic systems, it 
exercised the ingenuity of theologians, and gave a convenient 
framework to prophecy, while it seemed to illumine history and 
to provide a key and meaning to life itself. Even now it is not 
perhaps wholly devoid of message, but as a phenomenon in the 
history of human thought, a theory which appealed to such 
diverse scientific writers as Seneca, Albertus Magnus, Paracelsus, 
Gilbert, Harvey, Boyle, and Leibnitz, is surely worthy of attention. 
In essaying to interpret the views of our authoress on this 
difficult subject, we rely mainly on the text of the Liber Divinorum 
Operum, supplemented by the beautiful illuminations of that work 
which adorn the Lucca MS. The book opens with a truly remark- 
able vision (Plate vi) : 

' I saw a fair human form and the countenance thereof was of 
such beauty and brightness that it had been easier to gaze upon 
the sun. The head thereof was girt with a golden circlet through 
which appeared another face as of an aged man. From the neck 
of the figure on either side sprang a pinion which swept upward 
above the circlet and joined its fellow on high. And where on 
the right the wing turned upward, was portrayed an eagle's head 
with eyes of flame, wherein appeared as in a mirror the lightning 
of the angels, while from a man's head in the other wing the 
lightning of the stars did radiate. From either shoulder another 
wing reached to the knees. The figure was robed in brightness 
as of the sun, while the hands held a lamb shining with light. 
Beneath, the feet trampled a horrible black monster of revolting 
shape, upon the right ear of which a writhing serpent fixed itself.' ^ 

The image declares its identity in words reminiscent of the 
Wisdom literatm^e or of passages in the hermetic writings, but 
which seem in fact to be partly borrowed from Bernard Sylvestris. 

1 Migne, col. 741. 

From the LUCCA MS. fo. 86 v 


W I E S B . COD. B f o. 4 1- 

WIESB. COD. B fo. 224V 

Plate Xlla. MAN'S FALL AND 

Plate XH b. THE NEW 



OF SAINT HILDEGAED (1098-1180) 33 

' I am that supreme and fiery force that sends forth all the 
sparks of life. Death hath no part in me, yet do I allot it, where- 
fore I am girt about with wisdom as with wings. I am that 
living and fiery essence of the divine substance that glows in the 
beauty of the fields. I shine in the water, I burn in the sun and 
the moon and the stars. Mine is that mysterious force of the 
invisible wind. I sustain the breath of all living. I breathe in 
the verdure and in the flowers, and when the waters flow like 
living things, it is I. I formed those columns that support the 
whole earth. ... I am the force that lies hid in the winds, from 
me they take their source, and as a man may move because he 
breathes so doth a fire bum but by my blast. All these live 
because I am in them and am of their life. I am wisdom. Mine 
is the blast of the thundered word by which all things were made. 
I permeate aU things that they may not die. I am life.' ^ 

HUdegard thus supposes that the whole universe is permeated 
by a single living spirit, the figure of the vision. This spirit of 
the macrocosm, the Nous or ' world spirit ' of the hermetic and 
Neoplatonic literature, the impersonated Nature, as we may 
perhaps render it, is in its turn controlled by the Godhead that 
pervades the form and is represented rising from its vertex as 
a second human face. Nature, the spirit of the cosmic order, 
controls and holds in subjection the hideous monster, the prin- 
ciple of death and dissolution, the Hyle or primordial matter of 
the Neoplatonists, whose chaotic and anarchic force would shatter 
and destroy this fair world unless fettered by a higher power. 

With the details of the visionary figure we need not delay,^ but 
we pass to the description of the structure of the macrocosm itself, 
to which the second vision is devoted (Plate vn). Here appears 
the same figure of the macrocosmic spirit. But now the head and 
feet only are visible, and the arms are outstretched to enclose 
the disk of the universe which conceals the body. Although the 
macrocosm now described is considerably altered from Hildegard's 
original scheme of the universe, she yet declares, ' I saw in the 
bosom of the form the appearance of a disk of like sort to that 
which twenty-eight years before I had seen in the third vision, 
set forth in my book of Scivias '.^ The zones of this disk are 

1 Migne, col. 743. 

2 It is outside our purpose to attempt a full elucidation of Hildegard's allegory. 
The eagle in the right wing signifies the power of divine grace, while the human 
head in the left wing indicates the powers of the natural man. To the bosom 
of the figure is clasped the Lamb of God. * Migne, col. 751. 

1892 D 


then described (Plates vn, viii, and xi and Fig. 2). They are 
from without inwards : 

(a) The lucidus ignis, containing the three outer planets, the 

sixteen principal fixed stars, and the south wind. 
(6) The ignis niger, containing the sun, the north wind, and 
the materials of thunder, lightning, and hail. 

(c) The purus aether, containing the west wind, the moon, 

the two inner planets, and certain fixed stars. 

(d) The aer aquosus, containing the east wind. 

(e) The fortis et albus lucidusque aer, where certain other fixed 

stars are placed. 
(/) The aer tenuis, or atmosphere, in the outer part of which is 

the zone of the clouds. 
From all these objects, from the spheres of the elements, from 
the sun, moon, and other planets, from the four winds each with 
their two collaterals, from the fixed stars, and from the clouds, 
descend influences, indicated by lines, towards the figure of the 

The microcosm is then introduced. 

'And again I heard the voice from heaven saying, " God, who 
created all things, wrought also man in his own image and simili- 
tude, and in him he traced [signavit] all created things, and he 
held him in such love that he destined him for the place from 
which the fallen angel had been cast." ' ^ 

The various characters of the winds are expounded in a set 
of curious passages in which the doctrine of the macrocosm 
and microcosm is further mystically elaborated. An endeavour 
is made to attribute to the winds derived from the different 
quarters of heaven qualities associated with a number of animals.^ 
The conception is illustrated and made comprehensible by the 
miniatures in the Lucca MS. (Plates vn and viii). 

' In the middle of the disk [of the ^^|erse] there appeared 
the form of a man, the crown of whose^^d and the soles of 
whose feet extended to the fortis et albtiS"iucidusque aer, and his 
hands were outstretched right and left to the same circle. . . . 
Towards these parts was an appearance as of four heads ; a leopard, 
a wolf, a lion, and a bear. Above the head of the figure in the 
zone of the puriis aether, I saw the head of the leopard emitting 
a blast from its mouth, and on the right side of the mouth the 
blast, curving itself somewhat backwardatawas formed into a crab's 
^ Migne, col. 744. ^ Liber Divinorum OpSmm, part i, visions 2 and 3. 

OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 35 

head . . . with two chelae; while on the left side of the mouth 
a blast similarly cm-ved ended in a stag's head. From the mouth 
of the crab's head, another blast went to the middle of the space 
between the leopard and the lion ; and from the stag's head 
a similar blast to the middle of the space between the leopard 
and the bear . . . and all the heads were breathing towards the 
&gwce of the man. Under his feet in the aer aquosus there appeared 
as it were the head of a wolf, sending forth to the right a blast 
extending to the middle of the half space between its head and 
that of the bear, where it assumed the form of the stag's head ; 
and from the stag's mouth there came, as it were, another breath 
which ended in the middle line. From the left of the wolf's mouth 
arose a breath which went to the midst of the half space between 
the wolf and the lion, where was depicted another crab's head 
. . . from whose mouth another breath ended in the same middle 
line. . . . And the breath of aU the heads extended sideways from 
one to another. . . . Moreover on the right hand of the figure in 
the lucidus ignis, from the head of the lion, issued a breath 
which passed laterally on the right into a serpent's head and on 
the left into a lamb's head . . . similarly on the figure's left in the 
ignis niger there issued a breath from the bear's head ending 
on its right in the head of [another] lamb, and on its left in another 
serpent's head. . . . And above the head of the figure the seven 
planets were ranged in order, three in the lucidus ignis, one pro- 
jecting into the ignis niger and three into the purus aether. . . . 
And in the circumference of the circle of the lucidus ignis there 
appeared the sixteen principal stars, four in each quadrant between 
the heads. . . . Also the purus aether and the fortis et alhus lucidusque 
aer seemed to be full of stars which sent forth their rays towards 
the clouds, whence . . . tongues like rivers descended to the disk 
and towards the figure, which was thus surrounded and influenced 
by these signs.' ^ 

The third vision is devoted to an account of the human body, 
the microcosm (Plate vin), with a comparison of its organs to the 
parts of the macrocosmic scheme, together with a detailed account 
of the effects of the heavenly bodies on the humours in man, 
the whole brought into a strongly theological setting. Some of 
these views are set forth below in the chapter on anatomy and 

The fourth vision explains the influence of the heavenly 
bodies and of the superior elements on the power of nature as 
exhibited on the surface of the earth. It is illustrated by a 
charming miniature in the Lucca MS. (Plate ix). 

1 Migne, cols. 752-5. 


' I saw that the upper fiery firmament was stirred, so that as 
it were ashes were cast therefrom to earth, and they produced 
rashes and ulcers in men and animals and fruits.' These effects 
are shown in the left upper quadrant of Plate ix, where the ashes 
are seen proceeding from the lucidus ignis, the ' upper fiery firma- 
ment '. Two figures are seen, a female semi-recumbent, who 
lifts a fruit to her mouth, and a male figure fully recumbent, on 
whose legs a rash is displayed. The trees also in this quadrant show 
the effects of the ashes, two of them being denuded of fruit and 

' Then I saw that from the ignis niger certain vapours (nebulae) 
descended, which withered the verdure and dried up the moisture 
of the fields. The purus aether, however, resisted these ashes and 
vapours, seeking to hold back these plagues.' These vapours 
may be seen in the right upper quadrant of Plate ix. They 
descend from the ignis niger, attenuate for a space in the purus 
aether, and then descend through the other zones on to an 
arid and parched land. Here are two husbandmen ; one sits 
forlornly clasping his axe, while the other leans disconsolately upon 
his hoe. On the legs of the latter a rash may be distinguished. 

' And looking again I saw that from the fortis et albus lucidusque 
aer certain other clouds reached the earth and infected men and 
beasts with sore pestilence, so that they were subjected to many 
ills even to the death, but the aer aquosus opposed that influence 
so that they were not hurt beyond measure.' This scene is por- 
trayed in the right lower quadrant of Plate ix. Here is a husband- 
man in mortal anguish. He has gathered his basket of fruit 
and now lies stricken with the pestilence. His left hand is laid 
on his heart, while his right hangs listless on his thigh, pointing to 
tokens of plague upon his legs. Beyond lies the dead body of a 
beast on which a carrion bird has settled. 

' Again I saw that the moisture in the aer -tenuis was as it 
were boiling above the surface of the earth, awakening the force 
of the earth and making fruits to grow.' ^ This happier scene is 
represented in the left lower quadrant of Plate ix. Here the 
beneficent fertilizing influence is falling on trees and herbs and the 
happy husbandmen are reaping its results. 

The main outline of the Liber Divinorum Operum is, we believe, 
borrowed from the work of Bernard Sylvestris of Tours, De mundi 

1 Migne, col. 807. 

From WIESBADEN CODEX B fo. 224r 



From BIBL. NAT. MS. LAT. 5543 fo. i36r 

iL^:^>aSe**6,-tjr<--'l^l. .^ . 

! . fi>t -Myt "fc t^^^Z ■^ '-K * 



IXth Century 

OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 37 

universitate lihri dvo sive megacosmus et microcosmus.^ In this 
composition by a teacher at the cathedral school of Chartres,^ 
the gods and goddesses of the classical pantheon flit across the 
stage, for aU the world as though the writer were a pagan, and the 
work might be thought to be the last one from which our pious 
authoress would borrow. The De mundi universitate is alternately 
in prose and verse and betrays an acquaintance with the classics 
very rare at its date. ' The rhythm of the hexameters is clearly 
that of Lucan, while the vocabulary is mainly of Ovid.' ^ The 
mythology is founded mainly on the Timaeus. The eternal semi- 
naria of created things are mentioned, and it has been conjectured 
that the work exhibits traces of the influence of Lucretius,* but 
the general line of thought is clearly related to Neoplatonic 
literature. Thus the anima universalis of Neoplatonic writings 
can be identified with the Ncms or Noys of Bernard. This principle 
is contrasted with primordial matter or Hyle. The parallel char- 
acter of the Liber Divinorum Operum and the De mundi universi- 
tate can be illustrated by a few extracts from the latter. It will 
be seen that although the general setting is changed, yet Hilde- 
gard's figure of the spirit of the macrocosm is to be identified with 
Bernard's Noys. Hyle, on the other hand, becomes in Hildegard's 
plan the monstrous form, the emblem of brute matter, on which 
the spirit of the universe tramples. 

'In huius operis primo libro qui Megacosmus dicitur, id est 
maior mundus, Natura ad Noym, id est Dei providentiam, de 
primae materiae, id est hyles, confusione querimoniam quasi cum 
lacrimis agit et ut mundus pulchrius petit. Noys igitur eius mota 
precibus petitioni libenter annuit et ita quatuor elementa ab in- 
vicem seiungit. Novem ierarchias angelorum in coelo ponit. steUas 
in fixmamento figit. signa disponit. sub signis orbes septem plane- 
tarum currere facit. quatuor ventos cardinales sibi invicem opponit. 
Sequitur genesis animantium et terrae situs medius. . . . 

' In secundo libro qui Microcosmus dicitur, id est minor mundus, 
Noys ad Naturam loquitur et de mundi expolitione gloriatur et in 
operis sui completione se hominem plasmaturam poUicetur. lubet 

1 The work is printed by C. S. Baraxih and J. Wrobel, Innsbruck, 1876. The 
writers, however, confuse Bernard Sylvestris of Tours with his somewhat older 
contemporary, Bernard of Chartres. 

2 A. Clerval, Les JScoles de Chartres au Moyen Age, Paris, 1895. 

' J. E. Sandys, History of Classical Scholarship, Cambridge, 1903, vol. i, p. 515. 
* E. Lane Poole, Illustrations of the History of Mediaeval Thought in the 
Departments of Theology and Ecclesiastical Politics, Oxford, 1884, pp. 118, 219. 


igitur Uraniam, quae siderum regina est, et Physin, quae rerum 
omnium est peritissima, soUicite perquirat. Natura protmus 
iubenti obsequitur et per caelestes circulos Uraniam quaeritans 
earn sideribus inbiantem reperit. eiusque itineris causa praecognita 
se operis et itineris comitem Urania pollicetur. . . . Subitoque ibi 
Noys affuit suoque velle eis ostenso trinas speculationes tribus 
assignando tribuit & ad hominis plasmationem eas impellit. 
Physis igitur de quatuor elementorum reliquiis hominem format 
et a capite incipiens membratim operando opus suum in pedibus 

consummat. ... • j j- 

' Noys ego scientia et divinae voluntatis arbitraria ad dis- 
positionem rerum, quem ad modum de consensu eius accipio, sic 
meae administrationis officia circumduco. ... 

' (Noys) erat fons luminis, seminarium vitae, bonum bonitatis 
divinae, plenitude scientiae quae mens altissimi nominator. Ea 
igitur noys summi & exsuperantissimi Dei est intellectus et ex 
eius divinitate nata natura. . . . Erat igitur videre velut in speculo 
tersiore quicquid generationi quicquid operi Dei secretior desti- 
narat affectus.' ^ 

Hildegard's conception of macrocosm and microcosm, which 
was thus probably borrowed from Bernard Sylvestris, has 
analogies also to those well-known figures illustrating the sup- 
posed influence of the signs of the zodiac on the different parts 
of the body.^ Such figures, with the zodiacal symbols arranged 
around a figure of Christ, may be seen in certain MSS. anterior 
to Hildegard,^ while the influence of the ' Melothesia ', to give 
it the name assigned by Porphyry, has been traced through its 
period of efflorescence at the Renaissance (Plates xv,* xvi,^ and 

1 Barach and Wrobel, loc. cit., pp. 5-6, 9 and 13. 

2 For a general consideration of these figures see K. Sudhoff, Archiv fiir 
Geschichte der Medizin, i. 157, 219 ; ii. 84. 

^ E. Wickersheimer, ' Figures medico-astrologiques des neuvieme, dixieme et 
onzieme siecles ', Transactions of the Seventeenth International Congress of Medicine, 
Section XXIII, History of Medicine, p. 313, London, 1913. 

* The MS. from which Plate xv is taken (Paris, Bibl. nat., Latin 7028) is en- 
titled Scholium de duodecim zodiaci signis et de ventis. It was once the property of 
St. Hilaire the Great of Poitiers. The legend above our figufe reads, ' Secundum 
philosophorum deliramenta notantur duodecim signa ita ab ariete incipiamus '. 
The relation of the signs to the parts of the body is different in this eleventh-century 
MS. from that which was widely accepted in the astrology of the thirteenth and 
fourteenth centuries as illustrated in Plate xvi. 

5 The MS. from which Plate xvi is taken [Paris, Bibl. nat., Latin 11229) was 
written about the end of the fourteenth century. It has been described by 
K. Sudhoff, Arch. f. Gesch. d. Med., ii. 84, Leipzig, 1910. The relation of the cen- 
tral figure to the signs of the zodiac in this plate bears a manifest resemblance 

OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 39 

xvii,^ compare with Plates vii and viii) right down to our own age 
and country, where it still appeals to the ignorant and foolish.^ 

Hildegard often interprets natural events by means of a 
peculiarly crude form of the doctrine, as when she describes how 
' if the excess of waters below are drawn up to the clouds (by the 
just judgment of God in the requital of sinners), then the moisture 
from the aer aquosus transudes through the fortis et albus lucidusque 
aer as a draught drunk into the urinary bladder ; and the same 
waters descend in an inundation'.^ 

Again, events in the body of man are most naively explained on 
the basis of the nature of the external world as she has pictured it. 

' The humours at times rage fiercely as a leopard and again 
they are softened, going backwards as a crab ; * or they may 
show their diversity by leaping and goring as a stag, or they may 
be as a wolf in their ravening, and yet again they may invade the 
body of man after the manner of both wolf and crab. Or else 
they may show forth their strength unceasingly as a lion, or as 
a serpent they may go now softly, now violently, and at times 
they may be gentle as a lamb and at times again they may growl 
as an angered bear, and at times they may partake of the nature 
of the lamb and of the serpent.' ® 

to the relation of the central figure to the beasts' heads in Plate vn. The lines 
which cross and recross the figure in Plate vii are analogous also to the lines of 
influence of Plate xvi. The verse above the figure in Plate xvi is taken from the 
Flos medicinae scholae Salerni ; cp. de Renzi, loc. cit., i. 486. This Melothesia 
and that of the next figure is identical -with that propounded in ManiUus, ii. 453 
(edition of H. W. Garrod, Oxford, 1911). 

1 Plate xvn is from an early German block book. It exhibits a scheme closely 
parallel to Plate vn. The universe in Plate xvn is represented as a series of 
concentric spheres, earth innermost, followed by water, air, and fire. In the outer- 
most zone hover the angels who have replaced the beast's head of Hildegard's 
scheme. The whole world is embraced by the figure of the Almighty, much as in 
Plate vn. 

2 See E. Wickersheimer, ' La medecine astrologique dans les almanachs popu- 
laires du xxe siecle ', Bulktin de la Societe franfaise d'histoire de la medecine, x 
(1911), pp. 26-39. 

^ Migne, col. 757. This phrase is reproduced in a mediaeval Irish version of the 
work of Messahalah. See Maura Power, An Irish Astronomical Text, Irish Text 
Society, London, 1912. 

* The word cancer is here used, but the crab goes sideways, not backwards. 
By cancer Hildegard, who had never seen the sea, probably means the crayfish, 
an animal fairly common in the Rhine basin. It is the head of a crayfish or 
lobster that is figured in the miniatures of the vision of the macrocosm in the 
Lucca MS., and a similar organism frequently serves for the sign Cancer in the 
mediaeval zodiacal medical figures, as in Plate xv of this essay. 

s Migne, cols. 3, 791-2. 



Having completed her general survey of the macrocosm 
(Vision II), and having investigated in detaU the structure of 
man's body, the microcosm, in terms of the greater universe 
(Vision III), and discussed the influence of the heavenly bodies 
on terrestrial events (Vision IV), Hildegard turns to the internal 
structure of the terrestrial sphere (Vision V). This vision is 
illustrated by the figure in the Lucca MS. reproduced in Plate xi. 
Upon the surface of the earth towards the east stands the 
building which symbolizes the aedificium of the church, a 

favourite conception 
of our authoress. This 
church is surmounted 
by a halo, whence pro- 
ceed a pair of pinions 
which extend their 
shelter over a full half 
of the earth's circum- 
ference. As for the 
rest of the earth's 
surface, part is within 
the wide-opened jaws 
of a monster, the De- 
stroyer, and the re- 
mainder is beneath 
the surface of the 
ocean. Within the 
earth are five parts 
analogous, as she 
would have us be- 
heve, to the five senses. An eastern clear arc and a western 
clouded one signify respectively the excellence of the orient 
where Zion is situated, and the Cimmerian darkness of the occi- 
dental regions over which the shadow of the dragon is cast. 
Centrally is a quadrate area divided into three zones where 
the qualities of heat and cold and of a third intermediate ' tem- 
perateness ' (temperies) are stored. North and south of this are 
two areas where purgatory is situate. Each is shaped like a trun- 
catcid cone and composed also of three sectors. Souls are seen 
suffering in one sector the torment of flame, in another the torment 
of water, while in the third or intermediate sector lurk monsters 

Fig. 5. From Herrade de Landsberg's Hortus deliciarum, 
after Straub and Keller. 

From BIBL. NAT. MS. L A T. 7028 fo. 1541- 


From BIBL 

NAT. MS. LAT. 11229 fo. 45V 

Jplcii itSctcfiilorrtiittt-Amavv )cnvt^ • 


^fi-ftnt fum fcf wtut-V (tuna UmA /tU»^ • 


From the SYMBOLVM A P O S T O L I C O R U M 

First Half of XVth Century. Heidelberg University Library 

From BODLEIAN MS. ASH MOLE 399 fo. iSr 

5 *r?'f*^^eS^«.'^Sl5^ C:B^Snrt^ '''^^"* t-a^-jM 

From the F i v e - F i g u r e Series. C p . Plate XXXIII 

Fia. 6. 

Fig. 7. 


From R. Fludd, Historia ulriusque cosmi, Oppenheim, 1619, pp. 112 and 113. 



and creeping things which add to the miseries of purgatory or 
at times come forth to earth's surface to plague mankind. 
These northern and southern sections exhibit dimly by their 
identically reversed arrangement the belief in the antipodean 
inversion of climate, an idea hinted several times in Hildegard's 
writings, but more definitely illustrated by a figure of Herrade de 
Landsberg (Fig. 5). 

Macrocosmic schemes of the type illustrated by the text of 
Hildegard and by the figures of the Lucca MS. had a great vogue 


D.HepAr. ^ 






From B. Fludd, Philosophia sacra sen astrologia cosmica, Frankfurt, 1628, p. 52. 

in mediaeval times, and were passed on to later ages. Some 
passages in HUdegard's work read curiously like Paracelsus (1491- 
1541),^ and it is not hard to find a link between these two difficult 
and mystical writers. Trithemius, the teacher of Paracelsus, was 
abbot of Sponheim, an important settlement almost within sight of 
Hildegard's convents on the Rupertsberg and Disibodenberg. Tri- 
themius studied Hildegard's writings with great care and attached 

1 An illustration of this parallelism between Paracelsus and Hildegard is ajfforded 
by certain passages in the Labyrinthus medicorum errantium and the Scivias, 
lib. i, vis. 4. Especially compare p. 279 et seq. of Huser's edition of the Opera, 
Strasbourg, 160^ with Migne, col. 428. 

OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 43 

much importance to them, so that they may well have influenced 
his pupil. The influence of mediaeval theories of the relation 
of macrocosm and microcosm is encountered among numerous 
Renaissance writers besides Paracelsus, and is presented to us, 
for instance, by such a cautious, balanced, and scientifically-minded 
humanist as Fracastor. But as the years went on, the difiiculty 
in applying the details of the theory became ever greater and 
greater. Facts were strained and mutilated more and more to 
make them fit the Procrustean bed of an outworn theory, which 
at length became untenable when the heliocentric system of 
Copernicus and Galileo replaced the geocentric and anthropocentric 
systems of an earlier age. The idea of a close parallelism between 
the structure of man and of the wider universe was gradually 
abandoned by the scientific, while among the unscientific it 
degenerated and became little better than an insane obsession. 
As such it appears in the ingenious ravings of the English follower 
of Paracelsus, the Rosicrucian, Robert Fludd, who reproduced, 
often with fidelity, the systems which had some novelty five 
centuries before his time (Figs. 6, 7, and 8). As a similar fantastic 
obsession this once fruitful hypothesis still occasionally appears 
even in modern works of learning and industry.^ 

VIII. Anatomy and Physiology 

Hildegard's ideas on these subjects are set out in the fourth 
vision of the Liber Divinorum Operum, which is devoted to a descrip- 
tion of man's body according to the macrocosmic scheme. This 
setting makes her account by no means easy to read, while it 
increases the difficulty of tracing the origin of her views. 

The list of works containing anatomical descriptions avail- 
able to a German writer in the early Middle Ages is not long. 
Avicenna was hardly yet accessible, and only such scraps of Galen 
as appear in Constantine and the Salernitans. The available 
works may be enumerated thus : 

(a) The short Anatomia porci of Copho of Salerno, dating 
from about 1085.^ 

1 A good example is furnished by a work of Isaac Myer, Qabbalah. The philo- 
sophical vxritings 0/ Solomon ben Yehudah ibn Oebirol or Avicebron and their 
connection with the Hebrew Qabbalah and Sepher ha-Zohar, Philadelphia, 1888. 

2 The most accessible edition is in S. de Renzi's Collectio Salernitana, vol. ii, 
p. 388. 


(b) An anonymous Salernitan anatomy/ written about 1100 

and largely based on Copho and Constantine. 

(c) The Liber de humana natura of Constantine the African, 

written probably between 1070 and 1085 at Monte 

(d) Constantine' s De communibus medico cognitu necessariis 

locis, written about the same time as the above.^ This 
work is in four books, of which the second, third, and 
fourth are devoted to anatomy and physiology. 

(e) Here may be placed also Constantine's translation of the 

Viaticum of Isaac Judeus. Both these latter works of 
Constantine are long and technical, and designed for the 
use of the trained physician. 

In addition to these there was in the Middle Ages a definite 
anatomic tradition, which expressed itself constantly in : 

(J) A series of five anatomical diagrams representing respectively 
the arteries, veins, bones, nerves, and muscles * (see 
Plate XXXIII, opposite page 92 of the present volume). 
These diagrams were copied in the most servile fashion 
for centuries, and something very like them has remained 
in use to this day in Tibet. ^ The versions, whether in 
Persia or England, in Germany or Italy, were remarkably 

(g) In several MSS. there has been found attached to these 
remarkable diagrams a short text describing the five 
systems, arteries, veins, nerves, bones, and muscles. This 
text, however, purporting to be from Galen, has little 

1 Printed in de Renzi, vol. ii, p. 391. 

^ Printed in Methodus medendi certa clara et brevis, Basel, Henricus Petrus 
1541, p. 313. 

3 Printed in Summi in omni philosophia viri constantini africani medici operum 
reliqua, Basel, Henricus Petrus, 1539, p. 24. 

* Karl Sudhoff, Tradition und Naturbeobachtung, Leipzig, 1907 ; Ein Beitrag 
zur Geschichte der Anatomie im Mittelalter, Leipzig, 1908 ; ' Drei weitere anatomische 
Fiinfbilderserien aus Abendland und Morgenland ' (with Ernst Seidel) and 
' Abermals eine neue Handschrift der anatomischen Fiinfbilderserie ' in Archiv 
fur Geschichte der Medizin, Leipzig, 1910 and 1914. 

* E. H. C. Walsh, ' The Tibetan Anatomical System ', in the Journal of the 
Royal Asiatic Society, London, October 1910, p. 1215 ; Berthold Laufer, Beitrdge 
zur Kenntnis der Tibetanischen Medizin, Berlin, 1900 ; and K. Sudhoff, 'Weitere 
Beitrage zur Geschichte der Anatomie im Mittelalter ', in the Archiv fur Geschichte 
der Medizin, vol. viii, p. 143, Leipzig, 1914. 



From WIESBADEN CODEX B fo. 25 r 

iJJM|ij|iU,i!iW"-.»fl"!i _JJff , 


P' :^-cT.^T^^-rc-.r.^^ ^>c^^.^ 

.,,..■ ..^i:j,:^..^iji. 



OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 45 

relation to the figures, which it does not really explain, 
and it should therefore be regarded as a separate work,^ 

Of these seven sources it appears to us that (c) and (/) — the 
short De humana natura of Constantine, and the five-figure series — 
are those on which Hildegard drew. The absence of Arabisms 
and the scarcity of technical anatomical terms in her writings, 
her failure to distinguish between veins and arteries, the absence 
of anything of the nature of myology or osteology, together with 
the neglect of the spinal marrow as an important organ, make it 
very unlikely that she consulted Constantine's longer works or 
the Salernitan authorities or the text of the five-figure series. 
Her anatomical descriptions resemble those of Constantine's shorter 
work, on the other hand, in the description of the three vesicles 
of the brain and their relations to the faculties of the mind, in 
the treatment of the five senses, in the view of the influence of 
the planets on the child and the emphasis laid on epilepsy, as well 
as in the absence of any distinction between arteries and veins, 
and in the loose doctrines of the humours and of the causes of 
deformities and monstrosities. In some of these respects also her 
account of the human body presents points of resemblance to 
the De hominis membris ac partibus of Hugh of St. Victor,^ with 
whom, however, her contact appears to be less close than with 

We may infer that Hildegard had consulted anatomical 
diagrams and was accustomed to this method of representing the 
organs from a passage descriptive of the microcosm, in which she 
says that ' in the mouth of the figure in whose body was the disk, 
I saw a light brighter than the light of day, in the form of threads, 
some circular, some in other geometrical forms, and some shaped 
like human members belonging to the figure, which was clearly 
portrayed on the disk upright and accurately limned'.* These 
' circles and geometrical figures ' fairly describe the highly dia- 
grammatic manner in which the five-figure series represents the 
internal organs, and several points suggest that she does indeed 
refer to this series. Her description of the abdominal muscles 

1 This text, critically treated, has been printed by K. Sudhoff, who, however, 
regards it as related to the figures : Archiv fur Geschichte der Medizin, vol. ui, 
p. 361, Leipzig, 1910. 

2 Hugh of St. Victor, De bestiis et aliis rebus, iii. 60, 

3 Migne, col. 755. 


{umbilicus) ' covering the viscera like a cap ', her general descrip- 
tions of the vessels (venae) and the muscles, and especially her 
account of the vessels of the leg and of the intimate relations of 
the main venae to the organ of hearing, fits in perfectly with 
the form of these remarkable diagrams (Plate xviii). 

We here render some of the most important of her general 
anatomical descriptions : 

' The humours may pass to the Uver, where wisdom is tested, 
having been already tempered in the brain by the strength of the 
spirit, and having absorbed its moisture so that now it is plump, 
strong, and healthy. 

' In the right of man is the liver and its great heat, so that the 
right is swift to act and to work ; ^ but towards the left are heart 
and lung, which fortify the body for its task and receive their 
heat from the liver as from a furnace. But the vessels of the 
liver, afiected by the agitation of the humours, trouble the venules 
of the ear of man and sometimes confound the organ of hearing. . . . 

' I saw also that sometimes the humours seek the navel, which 
covers the viscera as a cap, and holds them in, lest they be dissi- 
pated, and maintains their course and preserves the heat both of 
them and of the veins. . . . But sometimes the humours seek the 
loins {lumbos),^ which mock, deceive, and endanger the virile powers 
and which are held in place by nerves and other vessels ; in which, 
nevertheless, reason flourishes so that man may know what to do 
and what to avoid. . . . 

' And the same humours go to the vessels of the reins and of 
other members, and pass in their turn to the vessels of the spleen, 
and then to the lungs and to the heart ; and they meet the viscera 
on the left where they are warmed by the lungs, but the liver 
warms the right-hand side of the body. And the vessels of the 
brain, heart, lung, liver, and other parts carry strength to the 
reins, whose vessels descend to the legs, strengthening them ; 
and returning along with the leg vessels, they unite with the 
virile organ or with the womb as the case may be. 

' And as the stomach absorbs food, or as iron is sharpened on 
a stone, so do they bring the reproductive power to those parts. 

1 An idea that occurs in Aristotle, Parts of Animals, ii, c. 2, but is rejected 
by Galen. 

^ Early mediaeval writers held that the lumbus, which we have rendered loin, 
was intimately connected with the sexual faculties. Thus Hugh of St. Victor 
(1095-1141), De bestiis et aliis rebus, iii. 60 ' Lumbi a libidinis lascivia dicti, quia 
in viris causa corporeae voluptatis in ipsis est, sicut in umbUico feminis. Unde et 
ab lob in exordio sermonis dictum est, accinge sicut vir lumbos tuos, ut in his esset 
resistendi praeparatio, in quibus est libidinis usitata dominandi occasio.' 

From WIESBADEN CODEX B. fo. i23r 

UniiM iiilui- trrnc ^^.11•rI^■. 


^ai dcha-an ccxuiU '^fm ixmibx. 
nqd ScYcmxtxivtrnvi^it^. qtif 
mc cvSCikvibvc: uxdi.idortcmmL'' 
^ecccTlticconifgct mUvrUpdcfn 
ixmx writ mrcgtt? mm{f tvcmidt 

.Klitp cTpoftnitTgfilmi ttvmmro 
nmdiumqtw i'dcbarcitiidA.mitai 
Utodttl'Tmtal^tlit'^Txmijqf. cUna 
nfitr xvvCiUrxncuj^fwacfcitem 
inxcii-'hiXhcniqd mjpccW ftw It- 
imi Tii^ir '^tunilainr.raiirt ttrt 
rttitntf iin-iliati'tTLJ^t !i*7mmis 
"pccWc atrittJ-jrtt Lt|ntit^,. p<jfo 
arq-, TTLiipirml'rr d(rr|.M^ lixado 
i'cclmcc mt>T]ti^.ptrrkid?.if iniU]:tiwf* 
arcttliif* Mxra Ciioni\irMiToxv\.- cm 
ArxrpVmxdxxic nuVbxn Sfhcndcit 
Y(m.xx-'(pcm{AViox'xaixt ^xdicf'tmro 
nc 4 .ul occuiavxcvcq- Mmcndum. 

Plate XXI. 


OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 47 

' Again, the muscles of the arms, legs, and thighs contain 
vessels full of humours ; and just as the belly has within it 
viscera containing nourishment, so the muscles of arms, legs, and 
thighs have both vessels and the [contained] humours which 
preserve man's strength. . . . But when a man runs or walks 
quickly, the nerves about the knees and the venules in the knees 
become distended. And since they are united with the vessels 
of the legs, which are numerous and intercommunicate in a net- 
like manner, they conduct the fatigue to the vessels of the liver, 
and thus they reach the vessels of the brain, and so send the fatigue 
throughout the body. But the vessels from the reins pass rather 
to the left leg than to the right, because the right leg gets its 
strength more from the heat of the liver. And the vessels of the 
right leg ascend as far as the renal and kindred vessels, and 
these latter vessels unite with those of the kidney. And the 
liver warms the reins which lie in the fatness derived from the 
humours. . . . 

' The humours in man are distributed in just measure. But 
when they affect the veins of the liver, his humidity is decreased 
and also the humidity of the chest is attenuated ; so that thus 
dried, he falls into disease of such a nature that the phlegm is 
dry and toxic and ascends to the brain. There it produces headache 
and pain in the eyes and wasting of the marrow, and thus if the 
moon is in default he may develop the falling evil [epilepsy]. 

' The humidity also which is in the umbUicus is dispersed by 
the same humours, and turned into dryness and hardness, so 
that the flesh becomes ulcerated and scabby as though he were 
leprous, if indeed he do not actually become so. And the vessels 
of his testicles, being adversely affected by these humours, similarly 
disturb the other vessels, so that the proper humidity is dried 
up within them ; and thus, the humours being withdrawn, impetigos 
may arise . . . and the marrow of the bones and the vessels of the 
flesh are dried up, and so the man becomes chronically ill, dragging 
out his days in languor. 

' But sometimes the humours affect breast and Uver ... so 
that various foolish thoughts arise . . . and they ascend to the 
brain and infect it and again descend to the stomach and generate 
fevers there, so that the man is long sick. Yet again they vex 
the minor vessels of the ear with superfluity of phlegm ; or with 
the same phlegm they infect the vessels of the lung, so that he 
coughs and can scarce breathe ; and the phlegm may pass thence 
into the vessels of the heart and give him pain there, or the pain 
may pass into the side, exciting pleurisy ; under such circum- 
stances also, the moon being in defect, the man may lapse into the 
falling sickness.' ^ 

1 Migne, cols. 792-3. 



Sometimes Hildegard's anatomical ideas can be paralleled 
among her contemporaries. Thus the following passage on the 
relationship of the planets to the brain is well illustrated by 
a diagram of Herrade de Landsberg. 

Horlus Jeliciarum 

Uu, 16 

Fig. 9. From Herrade de Landsberg's Hortus deliciarum, after Straub and 
Keller's reproduction. i 

^ The legend reads as follows : ' Minor mundus scilicet homo. Microcosmus. 
[Then on the head the names of the seven planets.] Caput microcosmi est rotun- 
dum in celestis spere modum in quo duo oculi ut duo luminaria in celo micarit 
quod & septem foramina ut septem cell armonie omant. In pectore sunt flatus & 
tussis ut in aere uenti & tonitrua. In uentrem omnia fluunt ut in mare flumina. 
Os lapides ungues arbos dant gramina crines Ut pede mole[ m ] corporis sic terra 
sustinet omnia. [At the four comers the following legends :] Aer huic donat quod 
flat, sonat. audit, odorat. Ignis feruorem dat uisum mobiUtatem. Aqua. Munus 
aque gustus humorem sanguinis usus. Ex terra carnem tactum trahit & 



OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 49 

' From the summit of the vessel of the brain to the extremity 
of the forehead seven equal spaces can be distinguished. Here 
the seven planets are designated, the uppermost planet in the 
highest part, the moon in front, the sun in the middle and the 
other planets distributed among the other spaces ' (Fig. 9). 

IX. Birth and Death and the Nature of the Soul 

The method by which the soul enters the body is set forth in 
a very striking vision in the Scivias and is illustrated in the Wies- 
baden Codex B by a no less remarkable miniature (Plate xix). The 
soul, which contains the element of wisdom, passes into the infant's 
body whUe yet within the mother's womb. The Wisdom of God is 
represented as a four-square object, with its angles set to the four 
quarters of the earth, this form being the sjrmbol of stability. 
From it a long tube-like process descends into the mother's womb. 
Down this there passes into the child a bright object, described 
variously as ' spherical ' and as ' shapeless ', which ' illumines the 
whole body ' and becomes or develops into the soul. 

The birth scene is strikingly portrayed. In the foreground lies 
the mother with the head and shoulders supported and the right 
arm raised. In her womb is the infant in the position known to 
obstetricians as a 'transverse presentation'. Around the child 
may be distinguished clear traces of the uterine membranes. 
Near the couch are ranged a group of ten figures who carry vessels 
containing the various qualities of the child. Above and to the 
left the EvU One may be seen pouring some noxious substance into 
one of these vessels, or perhaps abstracting some element of good. 
The whole scene suggests the familiar fairy tale in which, whUe all 
bring pleasant gifts to the child's birth, there comes at last the old 
witch or the ill-used relative who adds a quota of spitefulness. 
The scene is described and expounded as follows : 

' Behold, I saw upon earth men carrying mUk in earthen vessels 
and making cheeses therefrom. Some was of the thick kind from 
which firm cheese is made, some of the thinner sort from which 
more porous [tenuis] cheese is made, and some was mixed with 
corruption [tahes] and of the sort from which bitter cheese is 
made. And I saw the likeness of a woman having a complete 
human form within her womb. And then, by a secret disposition 
of the Most High Craftsman, a fiery sphere having none of the 
lineaments of a human body possessed the heart of the form, and 
reached the brain and transfused itself through all the members. . . . 

1892 E 


And I saw that many circling eddies possessed the sphere and 
brought it earthward, but with ever renewed force it returned 
upward and with waihng asked, " I, wanderer that I am, where 
am I ? " " In death's shadow." " And where go I ? " " In the 
way of sinners." " And what is my hope ? " " That of all wan- 
derers." ' ^ The vision is explained as follows : ' Those whom thou 
seest carrying milk in earthen vessels are in the world, men and 
women alike, having in their bodies the seed of mankind from 
which are procreated the various kinds of human beings. Part is 
thickened because the seed in its strength is well and truly con- 
cocted, and this produces forceful men to whom are allotted gifts 
both spiritual and carnal. . . . And some had cheeses less firmly 
curdled, for they in their feebleness have seed imperfectly tempered, 
and they raise offspring mostly stupid, feeble, and useless. . . . And 
some was mixed with corruption ... for the seed in that brew 
cannot be rightly raised, it is invahd and makes misshapen men 
who are bitter, distressed, and oppressed of heart, so that they may 
not lift their gaze to higher things.^ . . . And often in forgetful- 
ness of God and by the mocking devil, a mistio is made of the 
man and of the woman and the thing born therefrom is deformed, 
for parents who have sinned against me return to me crucified in 
their children.' " (Compare Constantine De humana natura, sections 
' De perfectione ' and ' De impeditione '.) 

Hildegard thus supposes that the qualities and form of a child 
are inherited from its parents, but that two factors, the formless 
soul from the Almighty and the corrupt fluid instilled by the devil, 
also contribute to the character of offspring. This is the usual 
mediaeval view and is broadly portrayed in the figure. 

The strange conception of the body being formed from the seed, 
as cheese is precipitated and curdled from milk, is doubtless derived 
from a passage in the Book of Job : 

' Hast thou not poured me out as milk. 
And curdled me like cheese ? 
Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, 
And knit me together with bones and sinews ' (Job x. 10, 11).* 

When the body has thus taken shape there enters into it the 
soul which, though at first shapeless, gradually assumes the form 
of its host, the earthly tabernacle ; and at death the soul departs 

1 Migne, col. 415. 2 Migne, col. 421. a -^igae, col. 424. 

* The Aristotelian writings also compare the transformation of the material 
humours into the child's body with the solidification of milk in the formation of 





OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 51 

through the mouth with the last breath, as a fully developed naked 
human shape, to be received by devils or angels as the case may be 
(Plate xx). 

During its residence in the body the soul plays the part usually 
assigned to it in the earlier mediaeval psychology, before the ideas 
of Nemesius and Ibn Ghazali had been elaborated and systematized 
by Albert and Aquinas. Hildegard regards the brain as having 
three chambers or divisions, corresponding to the three parts of 
man's nature, an idea encountered in the writings of St. Augustine. 
Parallel to these there are, she tells us, 

' three elements in man by which he shows life ; to wit, soul 
{anima), body {corpus), and sense {sensus). The soul vivifies the 
body and inspires the senses; the body attracts the soul and 
reveals the senses ; the senses affect the soul and allure the body. 
For the soul rules the body as a flame throws light into darkness, 
and it has two principal powers or limbs, the intellect {intellectus) 
and the will {voluntas) ; not indeed that the soul has limbs to move 
itself, but that it manifests itself thereby as the sun declares himself 
by his brightness. . . . For the intellect is attached to the soul as 
the arms to the body : for as the body is prolonged into arms with 
fingers and hands attached, so the intellect is produced from the 
souJ by the operation of its various powers.' ^ 

We need follow HUdegard no further into her maze of micro- 
cosmology, in which an essential similarity and relationship is 
discovered between the qualities of the soul, the constitution of the 
external cosmos, and the structure of the body, a thought which 
appears as the culmination of her entire system and provides the 
clue to the otherwise incomprehensible whole. ^ 

X. The Visions and their Pathological Basis 

For the physical accompaniments and phenomena of Hilde- 
gard' s visions we have three separate lines of evidence : her own 
account ; the statements of her contemporary biographers, Theo- 
doric and Godefrid ; and the miniatures of the Wiesbaden Codex B, 
probably prepared under her supervision. 

It is clear that despite the length and activity of her life, 
Hildegard did not enjoy normal health. From a very early age 
she was the subject of trances and visions, and from time to time 
she was prostrated with protracted illness. 

1 Migae, col. 425. 

2 Especially in the Liber Divinorum Operum, pars 1, vis. iv, 

B 2 


' God punished me for a time by laying me on a bed of sickness 
so that the blood was dried in my veins, the moisture in my flesh 
and the marrow in my bones, as though the spirit were about to 
depart from my body. In this affliction I lay thirty days while my 
body burned as with fever, and it was thought that this sickness 
was laid upon me for a punishment. And my spirit also was ailing, 
and yet was pinned to my flesh, so that while I did not die, yet did 
I not altogether live. And throughout those days I watched 
a procession of angels innumerable who fought with Michael and 
against the dragon and won the victory. . . . And one of them 
called out to me, " Eagle ! Eagle ! ^ why sleepest thou ? ... All 
the eagles are watching thee. . . . Arise ! for it is dawn, and eat 
and drink." And then the whole troop cried out with a mighty 
voice, . . . "Is not the time for passing come ? Arise, maiden, 
arise ! " Instantly my body and my senses came back into the 
world ; and seeing this, my daughters who were weeping around 
me lifted me from the ground and placed me on my bed, and thus 
I began to get back my strength. 

' But the affliction laid upon me did not fully cease ; yet was 
my spirit daily strengthened. ... I was yet weak of flesh, timid of 
mind, and fearful of pain . . . but in my soul I said, " Lord ! Lord ! 
all that Thou puttest upon me I know to be good . . . for have I not 
earned these things from my youth up ? " Yet was I assured He 
would not permit my soul to be thus tortured in the future life. . . .^ 
Thus was my body seethed as in a pot . . . yet gave I thanks to God, 
for if this affliction had not been from Him I had surely not lived so 
long. But although I was thus tortured, yet did I, in supernal 
vision, often repeat, cry aloud, and write those things which the 
Holy Spirit willed to put before me. 

' Three years were thus passed during which the Cherubim 
pursued me with a flaming sword . . . and at length my spirit 
revived within me and my body was restored again as to its veins 
and marrows, and thus I was healed.' ^ 

This iUness of Hildegard was the longest and the most typical, 
but by no means the only one through which she passed. She 
describes her affliction as continuing for long periods, but there can 
be little doubt, from her history, that during much of the time 
she was able to carry on some at least of her functions as head of 
a religious house. 

The condition from which she was suffering was clearly a func- 
tional nervous disorder ; this is sufficiently demonstrated by her 

1 The eagle is frequently in mediaeval writings a symbol of the power of divine 

■' Migne, col. 110. s Migne, col. 111. 

WIESB. COD. B. fo. 2I3V 


From WIESBADEN CODEX B fo. 15 3 r 

(at debar imx{ttm:amrcwca>, 

Plate XXIV. Z E L U S DEI 

OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 53 

repeated complete recoveries, her activity between the attacks, and 
the great age to which she lived. At first sight, the long procession 
of figures and visions suggests that she might have been the victim 
of a condition similar to that of which Jerome Cardan has left us so 
complete a personal record. But on reading the books of visions, 
the reader will easily convince himself that we are not here dealing 
with a dream-state. The visions are indeed essentially vivid. 
' These visions which I saw ', she repeatedly assures us, ' I beheld 
neither in sleep, nor in dream, nor in madness, nor with my carnal 
eyes, nor with the ears of the flesh, nor in hidden places ; but 
wakeful, alert, with the eyes of the spirit and with the inward 
ears I perceived them in open view and according to the will of 
God. And how this was compassed is hard indeed for human 
flesh to search out.' ^ 

Nevertheless, though the visions exhibit great originality and 
creative power — the reader wiU often be reminded of William 
Blake — all or nearly all present certain characters in common. In 
all a prominent feature is a point or a group of points of light, which 
shimmer and move, usually in a wavelike manner, and are most 
often interpreted as stars or flaming eyes. In quite a number of 
cases one light, larger than the rest, exhibits a series of concentric 
circular figures of wavering form ; and often definite fortification 
figures are described, radiating in some cases from a coloured 
area. Often the lights gave that impression of working, boiling 
or fermenting, described by so many visionaries, from Ezekiel 

This outline of the visions the saint herself variously inter- 
preted. We give examples from the more typical of these 
visions, in which the medical reader or the sufferer from migraine 
will, we think, easily recognize the symptoms of scintillating 
scotoma. Some of the illuminations, here reproduced in their 
original colours, wiU confirm this interpretation. 

' I saw a great star most splendid and beautiful, and with it an 
exceeding multitude of falling sparks which with the star f oHowed 
southward. And they examined Him upon His throne almost as 
something hostile, and turning from Him, they sought rather the 
north. And suddenly they were all annihilated, being turned mto 
black coals . . . and cast into the abyss that I could see them no 
more ' ^ (Plate xxi). 

1 Migiie, col. 384. ^ Scivias, lib. iii, vis. 1 ; Migiie, col. 565. 


This vision, illustrated by the beautiful figure of stars falling 
into the waves, is interpreted by her as signifying the Fall of the 

The concentric circles appear in numerous visions, and notably 
in that of the Days of the Creation of the World and the Fall of 
Man, illustrated by what is perhaps the most beautiful of all the 
miniatures of the Wiesbaden Codex B (lib. ii, vis. 1, Plate xxii). 
\ It is in this concentric form that Hildegard most frequently 
pictures the Almighty, and the idea again appears in the eleventh 
mioiature, here reproduced in its original colours, which she 
describes as ' a most shining light and within it the appearance of 
a human form of a sapphire colour which glittered with a gentle but 
sparkhng glow ' (lib. ii, vis. 2, Plate xxiii). Appearances of this 
type are recorded again and again. 

The type with fortification figures is encountered in a whole 
series of visions, of which we reproduce the account and illumina- 
tion of the Zelus Dei (Ub. iii, vis. 5, Plate xxiv, lower section). 

' I looked and behold a head of marvellous form ... of the colour 
of flame and red as fire, and it had a terrible human face gazing 
northward in great wrath. From the neck downward I could see 
no further form, for the body was altogether concealed . . . but the 
head itself I saw, like the bare form of a human head. Nor was 
it ha,iry like a man, nor indeed after the manner of a woman, 
but it was more hke to a man than a woman, and very awful to 
look upon. 

' It had three wings of marvellous length and breadth, white 
as a dazzUng cloud. They were not raised erect but spread apart 
one from the other and the head rose slightly above them . . . and 
at times they would beat terribly and again would be still. No 
word uttered the head, but remained altogether still, yet now and 
again beating with its extended wings.' 

From the head extended a series of fortification lines, and this 
pecuhar form of vision is reproduced on several occasions and 
variously interpreted (Plate xxiv, upper section). It is united 
with similar visions m what we regard as a reconstructed con- 
ception of exceedingly complex structure. This she claims to see 
separately, and she interprets it as the aedificium of the city 
of God (Plate xxv). Such reconstructed visions are clearly of a 
different type and origin to the simple group in which a shinmg 
light or group of lights is encountered and interpreted as a speaking 


rv. (\A ftltttf ifttmtlul'c mmtuKtvua 
<cS\ xanffordmjcai aponf. 
vTr.^crcr iwlunrn ' 


OF SAINT HILDEGARD (1098-1180) 55 

Hildegard's visions, perhaps without exception, contain this 
element of a bUnding or glittering light, which she interprets in 
a more or less spiritual manner. We terminate our account with 
the passage in which she sums up her experiences of it. 

' From my infancy ', she says, ' up to the present time, I being 
now more than seventy years of age, I have always seen this light 
in my spirit and not with external eyes, nor with any thoughts of 
my heart nor with help from the senses. But my outward eyes 
remain open and the other corporeal senses retain their activity. 
The light which I see is not located but yet is more brilliant than 
the sun, nor can I examine its height, length, or breadth, and I name 
it the " cloud of the living light ". And as sun, moon, and stars are 
reflected in water, so the writings, sayings, virtues, and works of 
men shine in it before me. And whatever I thus see in vision the 
memory thereof remains long with me. Likewise I see, hear, and 
understand almost in a moment and I set down what I thus learn 

' But sometimes I behold within this light another light which 
I name " the Living Light itself ". . . . And when I look upon it 
every sadness and pain vanishes from my memory, so that I am 
again as a simple maid and not as an old woman. ^ . . . 

' And now that I am over seventy years old my spirit according 
to the wlU of God soars upward in vision to the highest heaven and 
to the farthest stretch of the air and spreads itself among different 
peoples to regions exceeding far from me here, and thence I can 
behold the changing clouds and the mutations of aU created things ; 
for all these I see not with the outward eye or ear, nor do I create 
them from the cogitations of my heart . . . but within my spirit, 
my eyes being open, so that I have never suffered any terror when 
they left me.' ^ 

1 Migne, col. 18. ^ Migne, col. 18. 

Note. — The author's thanks are due to the Rev. H. A. Wilson, Mr. C. C. J. 
Webb, and Mr. R. R. Steele, who have read the proofs of this article and have 
made valuable suggestions; to Mr. J. A. Herbert of the MS. Department of the 
British Museum, who drew his attention to the work of Herrade de Landsberg ; and 
to Mr. M. H. Spielmann, who brought to his uotice the crucifix figured in Plate X. 
He owes a special debt of gratitude to the late Dom Louis Baillet of Oosterhoot 
for his courtesy and generosity in lending him reproductions of the illuminations 
of the Weisbaden Codex. Baillet was a young scholar of great promise, whose 
early death is a severe loss to the knowledge of mediaeval science. 

The author has also to thank Professor Henrici of the Nassauische Landes- 
bibliothek at Weisbaden, Professor Wille and Professor SiUib of the Universitats- 
bibliothek at Heidelberg, and Signor Boselli of the R. Bibleotica Governativa at 
Lucca, who have all given him exceptional facilities for the study of the treasures 
under their charge. 


John Wilfred Jenkinson was born in 1871, and came from 
Bradfield to Exeter College, Oxford, with a classical scholarship 
in 1890. After taking his degree in Literae Humaniores he came, 
in 1894, to University College, London, where he devoted himself 
with extraordinary and never-flagging energy to biological studies. 

Without having had the usual preliminary scientific teaching, 
he brought, on the other hand, a well-trained mind to bear on his 
new work, and the rapidity and completeness with which he ac- 
quired his scientific equipment was one of the most striking and 
interesting points in his career. Jenkinson very soon turned to 
original investigation, and from the first he showed a predilection 
for Embryology. 

For a short time he held a post at one of the great London 
hospitals, but he soon returned to Oxford to join the teaching 
staff of the Department of Comparative Anatomy. He used the 
opportunity of University vacations to work in the laboratory of 
the late Professor A. A. W. Hubrecht at Utrecht, where part of his 
first published research was written. During the fifteen years of 
life that remained to him, he established himself as the foremost 
EngHsh writer on Embryology, devoting himself especially to its 
experimental aspect, a line of work in which he will rank as one of 
the pioneers. 

Jenkinson became Doctor of Science in 1905, and in the same 
year he married Constance Stephenson. In 1906 he was appointed 
University Lecturer in Embryology, and in 1909 he was elected 
to a Research Fellowship at Exeter College. 

Jenkinson' s mind was not of the type that matiu-es early, but 
one felt in him a power of solid intellect that gained in force 
from year to year. The gap in the ranks of British Science caused 
by his death has been generally recognized, but his loss seems 
greatest to those personally acquainted with him, who know that 
he had by no means reached the zenith of his powers. 

Jenkinson led a single-minded and unselfish life, wholly free 
from worldly and ignoble ambitions. Of simple and winning 
humour, happy in his domestic life and absorbed in his studies, he 
represented the very best type of scientific worker. 

He was gifted with a powerful physique, and on the outbreak 
of war he became an ardent member of the Oxford Volunteer 


Training Corps. His qualities of calm courage and high sense of 
duty marked him out as a valuable officer. Although forty-three 
years of age, he took a commission in the 12th Worcester Regi- 
ment in January, 1915, and was promoted Captain in the following 
April. On May 10 he left for the Dardanelles, having been selected 
for service with the 2nd Royal Fusiliers. He was killed in action 
on June 4, only ten days after his arrival at the Gallipoli peninsula. 


1. ' A Re-investigation of the Early Stages of the Development of the. 
Mouse.' Quart. Jour. Micr. Science, xliii. 1900. 

2. ' Observations on the Histology and Physiology of the Placenta of the 
Mouse.' Tijdschr. Nederland. Dierkund. Vereen., vii (2). 1902. 

3. ' Observations on the Maturation and Fertilization of the Egg of the 
Axolotl.' Quart. Jour. Micr. Science, xlviii. 1905. 

4. ' Remarks on the Germinal Layers of Vertebrates and on the Significance 
of Germinal Layers in general.' Mem. and Proc. Manchester Lit. and Phil. Soc. 

5. ' Notes on the Histology and Physiology of the Placenta in Ungulata.' 
Proc. Zool. Soc. 1906. 

6. ' On the Effects of certain Solutions upon the Development of the Frog's 
Egg.' Arch. Ent.-Mech., xxi. 1906. 

7. ' On the Relation between the Symmetry of the Egg and the Symmetry 
of the Embryo in the Frog (Rana temporaria).' Biometrika, v. 1906. 

8. Experimental Embryology. Oxford, 1909. 

9. ' On the Relation between the Symmetry of the Egg, the Symmetry of 
Segmentation, and the Symmetry of the Embryo in the Frog.' Biometrika, vii. 

10. ' The Effects of Sodium Chloride on the Growth and Variability of the 
Tadpole of the Frog.' Arch. Ent.-Mech., xxx (2). 1910. 

11. ' VitaUsm.' Hibbert Journal. 1911. 

12. ' On the Development of Isolated Pieces of the Gastrulae of the Sea- 
JjTchin Strongylocentrotus lividus.' Arch. Ent.-Mech., xxxii. 1911. 

13. ' On the Effect of certain Isotonic Solutions on the Development of the 
Frog.' Arch. Ent.-Mech., xxxii. 1911. 

14. ' On the Origin of the Polar and Bilateral Structure of the Egg of the 
Sea-Urchin.' Arch. Ent.-Mech., xxxii. 1911. 

15. 'The Development of the Ear-Bones in the Mouse.' Jour Anat and 
Phys. vi (3). 1911. 

16. ' Growth, Variability, and Correlation in Young Trout.' Biometrika viii 

17. Vertebrate Embryology. Oxford, 1913. 

18. ' The Effect of Centrifugal Force on the Structure and Development of 
the Egg of the Frog.' Quart. Jour. Micr. Science. 1914. 

19. ' The Placenta of a Lemur.' Quart. Jour. Micr. Science. Jvdy 1915. 

20. Three Lectures on Experimental Embryology. Oxford, 1917. 


By J. W. Jenkinson 

In one of the oldest biological treatises in the world, the soxil or 
life of an organism is defined in the most general way as an /activity 
of a natural organic Uving body — eWeXe;>(€ta o-w/AaTos (f)vcnKov opyavL- 
Kov Svj'a/ t,(tiy]v exovTos — ^life being autonomous nutrition and 
growth and decay. The activity may, however, be latent or patent, 
passive or active, sleeping or waking, without losing its peculiar 
characters. It is substance (ovcrta), but substance as 'form' as 
opposed to the material substance of the body, and the living body 
is therefore also a substance in a double sense. 

It is not identical with the body ; but as form, proportion {Xoyo'?), 
activity (eVepyeta), essence {to ri -qv elvat), it is related to the body, 
mere matter (vXr)), and potentiality (Swva/xts) in just the same way 
as the seal is related to the wax ; and the body is the instrument 
whereby it effects its purposes ; though subsequent in time, it is 
prior in thought to the body, as all activities are to the materials 
with which they operate. 

At the same time neither it nor its parts are separable from the 
body, with the exception, possibly, of mind {vov<;) ; it is indeed 
the actual or possible functioning of the body, like the seekig of 
the eye or the cutting of the axe, and with the disappearance 
of the capacity of this functioning the soul itself also perishes. 
Lastly, it is a cause {apxrj koI airCa) in a triple sense : first, as the 
source of motion ; secondly, as that for the sake of which the body 
exists ; and thirdly, as its essence {ovcrCa) or formal cause. The soul 
or life is of several kinds, which form together an ascending series 
each member of which is necessarily involved in those above it. 

The lowest is the nutritive soul {dpevTLKiQ), found in all living 
things, and the only soul possessed by plants. It is defined as 
motion in respect of nutrition, decay, and growth, processes which 
involve alteration (dWotwcrt?) in the body ; and its functions (epya) 
are to utilize food for the maintenance and reproduction of the 
form of the body, and to control and limit growth. 


The second is the perceptive soul {ala-diqTiKri), the possession of 
which distinguishes animals from plants. This also is a kind of 
alteration (dXXoiwo-is n's) and consists in being moved and affected. 
The fundamental and indispensable perception is touch {a^ri), for 
it is concerned in the acquisition of the food. It is invariably 
present : the others may or may not, some or all, coexist with it. 

Thirdly, some animals are possessed of a capacity for locomotion, 
and the performance of this function requirss again a special kind 
of soul. 

Lastly, there is the reasoning soul {hLavoiqTi,Ka.) or mind {vovs). 
This is found in man alone, unless there be other beings similar to 
him, or even nobler than he. Mind alone is eternal and separable 
from the body. 

Though the observation and experiment of modern science 
would doubtless find much to alter in the details of these simple 
definitions, yet it must be conceded that, by what is certainly 
a most fortunate guess if it is not the most wonderful insight, 
Aristotle has laid his finger on the cardinal point of modern physio- 
logical doctrine. For, putting aside for the moment the mental 
faculties, it is here laid down in the clearest manner that not only 
the functions of growth and decay, nutrition, and reproduction, but 
also the capacity of responding to stimuH are to be ultimately 
resolved into some kind of movement of the particles of which the 
body is composed. Life, in short, as we might say with Virchow, 
is a mode of motion. 

The biology of to-day distinguishes living from inanimate 
bodies by the possession and exercise of the three principal pro- 
perties or functions of metabolism, irritability, and reproduction ; 
and further, the body which performs these functions is not only 
composed of chemically complex substances — proteids — which are 
not found in things that are not alive, but possesses a structure. 
In no cass, even the simplest, is the organism a mere homo- 
geneous lump of protoplasm, but it has parts or organs, visibly 
different from one another, and obviously correlated with the 
activities appropriated to each ; and it is the preservation of that 
structure, in the individual and in the race, which is the end 
towards which the collective performance of aU these functions, or 
the life of the organism, is apparently directed. 

Some of these peculiarities are shared by certain things that are 
not commonly regarded as alive. Crystals have of course a definite 


structure ; they can divide, and when broken they can make good 
the missing part, but they do not assimilate to the substance of 
their own bodies a food- material which is less complex than it, and 
they are not irritable. 

The differences, indeed, between the living and the lifeless are 
so profound, that it is not to be wondered at that there should have 
been m all ages natural philosophers who have held that living 
activities are phenomena sui generis, differing toto caelo from the 
properties exhibited by lifeless bodieSj and never by any conceiva- 
bUity to be expressed in terms of these. 

This doctrine is vitalism. 

It exists in several varieties, but one at least is of very ancient 
lineage and can be traced back through mediaeval times to the 
biological speculations of the Greeks. 

Whether Aristotle really held the vitalistic views which have 
since been attributed to him is a matter we shall have to discuss 
later on, but it is certain that in the writings of Galen there is to be 
found a theory of life which bears the stamp of Aristotelian influence, 
and was destined to hand that influence on to future generations. 
Galen admits the sensitive soul of Aristotle as the peculiarity of 
animals, and the rational soul for man, but substitutes for the 
nutritive soul certain works of nature — attraction, repulsion, 
retention, alteration. And further, the rational soul is no longer 
immortal, but perishable, and is dependent on the body, where 
its seat is in the brain ; it is material or quasi- material, a TTvev/jia, 
most efficient when dry. 

After a long interval this doctrine reappears in the sixteenth 
century in the writings of Vesalius, who tells us that the heart has 
a vital soul, the liver a natural soul, while there is elaborated in the 
ventricles of the brain an animal spirit or principal soul. 

Meanwhile, however, the conception of life as something 
material had been discarded by Paracelsus for the belief that the 
soul, or as he called it, the ' Archaeus ', by which the chemical pro- 
cesses of the body are governed, is not a material but a spiritual 
force, a view restated by Stahl more than a hundred years after- 
wards. ' The events of the body ', says this author, ' may be rough- 
hewn by chemical and physical forces, but the soul will shape them 
to its own ends, and will do that by its instrument, motion.' 

This, of course, is vitalism, and vitalism m its extreme or 
' animistic ' form. The idea recurs later on in the biology of 


Treviranus. To be living is to have a soul, he tells us, and the 
conscious Lebenskraft employs the forces of the material world to 
form the organism. ' Das Weitzenkorn hat allerdings Bewusst- 
sein dessen, was in ihm ist und aus ihm werden kann,^ und 
traumt wirklich davon.' Though he adds quaintly enough, ' Sein 
Bewusstsein und seine Traume mogen dunkel genug seui '. It is 
curious to observe the revival, at the beginning of the twentieth 
century, of this mediaeval mysticism in the speculative writings 
of so accomplished an experimentahst as Hans Driesch. 

Driesch is an embryologist who in his earlier days had enim- 
ciated an invaluable analytical theory of development, a theory 
which suggests that while the formation of the first or elementary 
organs that appear in the embryo or larva — such structures as the 
larval gut or sense-organ, or the germ-layers — depends upon the 
presence in the germ of certain specific organ-forming substances 
(and this is a fact which has since been abundantly demonstrated 
by experiment), the origin of parts that appear later in development 
may be accounted for by the action of the first-formed structures 
upon one another, these actions being in the nature of physiological 
responses to stimuli ; and for this also some evidence has been 
produced. On this view differentiation is a mechanical process, set 
in motion by fertilization or some other cause, and, given a certain 
initial structure of the germ or ovum, given the presence in it of 
a certain number of parts or substances capable of acting upon one 
another with a fixed co-ordination or harmony of the stimuli and 
the responses, given further a proper constitution of the external 
environment, then a definite result must foUow, the production of 
an organism which is like the parents that gave it birth. 

But in his later treatises this hypothesis has been repudiated, 
and, by a remarkable volte-face, replaced by a dogma of a wholly 
different kind. For now it is urged that no merely material factors 
can possibly account either for the harmony of development — the 
due co-ordination of mutually reacting parts ; or for the secondary 
harmony of composition — the formation of complex organs by the 
miion of tissues ; or for the functional harmony seen in the activities 
of the adult. 

For example, it is asserted that any fragment of an egg of 
a sea-urchin, if not too small (not less than -^ of the egg), can give 
rise to a whole and normal larva. We are told that the cells of 
the segmented ovum may be disarranged to any extent by various 


means, such as raising the temperature, diluting the sea-water, 
removing the calcium from the sea-water, or by shaking, without 
prejudice to the ultimate normality of development. Each part of 
the ovum can therefore, according to the needs of the case, give 
rise to any part of the resulting organism. ' Jeder Teil kann nach 
Bediirfniss jedes.' 

And thirdly, when the gastrula of a sea-urchin is transversely 
divided into two, each half, it is stated, develops into a diminished 
whole larva in which the gut becomes divided into the characteristic 
three regions, and aU the other organs are formed in correct 

For each of these acts of development in the whole uninjured 
larva an explanation may conceivably be given in terms of forma- 
tive stimuli exerted by the originally distinct parts of the egg and 
calling forth responses in other parts. A mechanism may be 
thought of which, when set in motion, wiU achieve a certain end in 
accordance with its ownpre-estabUshed harmony ; but a mechanism 
which can be subdivided ad libitum, or almost ad libitum, and the 
parts of which will stUL achieve the same end, will still behave as 
wholes with their parts co-ordinated in the same ratio, tempo- 
rally and spatially ! Such a mechanism is inconceivable ; for to 
ensure the uniform result, the relative amounts and positions of 
the necessary substances must be imagined as identical in every 
possible fragment of the egg that is not too small. Something 
is therefore required to superintend, to co-ordinate the causes of 
development in the case not only of the part but of the whole 
egg as well ; and this something is not material. A corroborative 
proof of the inadequacy of the purely material explanation — the 
causal explanation in the ordinary sense of the phrase— may be 
derived from a consideration of certain other vital processes. The 
facts of acclimatization and immunity betray an extraordinary 
adaptability of the organism to a change in its environment ; 
an organ will adapt itself structurally to an alteration, quantitative 
or qualitative, of fiuiction [Roux's 'Functional Adaptation']; lost 
parts can be regenerated ; and then there is the physiology of the 
nervous system. 

In all these cases of ' regulation ' — and indeed in all other 
responses to stimuli — the same element, inexphcable in chemical 
and physical terms, exists and must exist in development. This 
entity is not a form of energy, but a vital constant, analogous to 


the constants or ultimate conceptions of mechanics and physics 
and chemistry and crystallography, but not reducible to these, 
just as these cannot be translated into one another. 

Driesch describes it as a rudimentary feehng and willing, a 
' psychoid ', ' morphaesthetic ' or perceptive of that form which 
is the desired end towards which it controls and directs all the 
material elements of differentiation, like the grain of wheat of 
Treviranus, dreaming dimly of its destiny. It is thus a vera causa — 
an unconditional and invariable antecedent — a psychical factor 
which can intervene in the purely physical series of causes and 
effects, and for it he revives the AristoteUan term ' Entelechy'. 

Such is the 'vitalism' introduced by Hans Driesch, a teleo- 
logical theory clearly, but no mere metaphysical doctrine of final 
causes : rather a dynamic teleology which not only sees an end in 
every organic process, but postulates an immaterial entity to guide 
the merely mechanical forces towards the realization of that end. 

Such a theory is open to very serious criticism from both the 
scientific and the philosophical side. But before we pass to that 
criticism let us turn aside to examine some of the other aspects 
under which the Proteus of Vitahsm presents himself. 

Thus the modern physiologist Bunge, while owning that it would 
be a lack of intelligence to expect to make with our senses dis- 
coveries in living nature of a different order to those revealed to us 
in inorganic nature, yet insists that we must transfer to the objects 
of our sensory perception, to the organs, to the tissue elements, 
and to every minute cell, something which we have acquired from 
our own consciousness, something, that is to say, which is not 
motion, and is not in space, but is in time only. 

The essence of vitalism, so Bunge would have it, lies in starting 
from what we know, the internal world, to explain what we do not 
know, the external world. We can only remark that this position 
appears to rest upon an epistemological confusion, for Bunge has 
evidently failed to distinguish between the idealism which teaches 
that the world of nature, including our own bodies, only exists in 
so far as it is an object of knowledge, that reality is ultimately 
ideal, and the 'animism' which, as we have seen, gives every object, 
at least every living object, in nature a directive consciousness of 
its own. The former does not lie immediately within the scope of 
the present inquiry; the latter we shall have occasion to discuss 


How far the tenets of animism are to be attributed to Johannes 
Miiller is not very clear. For while Miiller maintained that an 
organism is due to an idea which regulates its structure, is the 
cause of its harmony, and is in action in the organism itself, 
exerting on it a formative power, yet he held that the process was 
Tinconscious. Miiller indeed distinguished exphcitly between the 
vital and the mental or conscious principle, for in the operations 
of the former the manifestation of design is the result of necessity, 
not of choice. At the same time the two resemble one another 
in being homogeneous, in existing throughout the mass of the 
organism which they animate, and in being divided together with 
the organism (as in regeneration) without suffering any diminution 
or change of their powers. 

In this conception of the unconscious idea there may possibly 
be some confusion between the formal and the final cause, between 
the idea of the end to be reaHzed, present at the beginning in the 
mind of the artificer, and the end itself. The former is animism ; 
the latter is sound enough as metaphysics, but is not science at all. ' 

There is stiU another school of vitalists which, while not going 
so far as to commit itself to a belief in a ' psychoid ', yet proclaims 
in no uncertain voice the autonomy of the organism, and not con- 
tent with the assertion that at present we have not succeeded in 
reducing the activities of the organism to chemical, physical, 
and mechanical processes, maintains the utter futility of such 
endeavour, and pronounces over the hidden mysteries of life an 
eternal Ignorabimus. 

Some such view as this we must, I think, attribute to 
Dr. Haldane. ' In biology ', he says, ' the phenomena which are orA 
ought to be observed from the very beginning are not physical and 
chemical phenomena as self-existent events, but these phenomena 
as expressions of the activity of Hving organisms. It is the hving 
organism, and not the physical phenomenon, which is the reahty 
for biology.' His behef in organic autonomy is based on the 
physiology of metabohsm, secretion and absorption, the circulation 
of the blood, and the nervous system. Thus in discussing the blood, 
after pointing to the constancy in its volume and composition, he 
proceeds : ' Neither starvation nor ingestion of food and drink 
materially affect it : Uquid injected into it is got rid of with remark- 
able rapidity; and any loss of blood by bleeding is soon replaced. 
This^ vital metabohsm of the circulatory system is doubtless due 

1892 F 


chiefly to the activity of its lining endothelium, which most cer- 
tainly does not play the mere mechanical part which has often 
been attributed to it. The other so-called " mechanisms " can 
likewise be shown to have all the characteristics of the living body, 
inasmuch as they actively maintain their structure, just as the 
organism as a whole does so. There is thus no warrant for callmg 
them mechanisms, and thus ignoring what is one of their essential 
characteristics.' In passages such as these we seem to catch an 
echo of MiiUer's unconscious idea, and again we ask ourselves. Are 
we dealing with a final or a formal cause ? Indeed, Dr. Haldane 
insists that his ground conception is teleological. 

There is still one other vitaHstic theory to which we must allude, 
although its interest is now merely historical. This is the belief in 
a special vital material, unUke the material of which lifeless bodies 
are composed, and endowed with a special vital force, different from 
but co-ordinate with the forces of mechanics and physics. 

In his Histoire Generale des Animaux Buffon, after referring to 
the obAdous peculiarities of animals and vegetables — that their 
actions are directed to an end, the conservation of a durable 
species — proceeds to elaborate a thesis in which it is held that 
they are composed of organic germs, and that germs of the same 
kind are distributed throughout nature, lifeless as well as living. 
When an animal or plant dies, its body is dissolved into these 
germs, which are then scattered abroad ; when it assimilates, it is 
by separating these ubiquitous particles from the brute inorganic 
portion of the food. The former is utilized for its own growth, the 
latter it gets rid of by evacuation and excretion. Lifeless matter 
is therefore never converted into living material. 

Another advocate of the doctrine of a vital force, a property of 
the tissues of the body, and at perpetual war with those inorganic 
forms which tend to their destruction, was the physiologist Bichat. 
Such a conception as this could not of course survive the rise of 
modem chemistry. Its death-knell was sounded when Lavoisier 
and Laplace showed that the bodies of organisms were composed of 
the same elements as are found in inanimate nature, and it has long 
since passed into the limbo of discredited speculations. 

Apart from this, vitalistic theories would appear to be in the 
main of two Idnds. 

First, there is the metaphysical Aritalism which teUs us we can 
never explam the living in terms of the lifeless, insists on the per- 


manent separation of the sciences of biology on the one hand from 
chemistry and physics on the other, and preaches the ^tonomy- 
of the organism without venturing to tell us in what that autonomy 

Secondly, there is the psychological theory of animism which 
posits an autonomous psychical entity to preside over the chemical 
and mechanical operations of the body, whether already formed or 
in process of development, and to direct them towards its own ends, 
the conservation and reproduction of that body's specific form. 

A third party, halting between two opinions, suggests an imcon- 
scious idea, without, however, clearly explaining whether this is to 
be taken in a metaphysical or a psychological sense. Frankly 
opposed to vitahsm in aU its forms is the conception of the living 
body as a mechanism. This has also an honourable ancestry 
behind it. How far the biology of Aristotle is to be looked upon 
as mechanistic we shall presently have to inquire, but in Galen 
the soul is certainly material, or quasi-material, as we have already 
observed. It is, however, in the physiology of Descartes that 
mechanism first appears unmistakably in its modem guise. 

For Descartes the body is simply an earthly machine. The 
nerves are tubes up which — in sensation — the animal spirits flow 
to the brain only to be reflected (whence our term reflex action) 
down other tubes to the muscles. 

'All the f mictions of the body', he tells us, 'follow naturally 
from the sole disposition of its organs, just in the same way that the 
movements of a clock or other self-acting machine or automaton 
foUow from the arrangement of its weights and wheels. So that 
there is no reason on account of its functions to conceive that there 
exists in the body any soul, whether vegetative or sensitive, or any 
principle of movement other than the blood and its animal spirits 
agitated by the heat of the fire which burns continually in the heart 
and does not differ in nature from any of the other fires which are 
met with in inanimate bodies.' 

The rational soul, the soul which thinks, that is, understands, 
wishes, imagines, remembers, and feels, is not material. Yet it 
always acts through the machine, though that machine can go on 
perfectly weU without the soul. ' When the body has all its organs 
properly arranged for a partictdar movement it has no need of the 
sold to carry them out. All movements, even those which we call 
voluntary, depend principally on the same disposition of the organs. 



One and the same cause renders the dead body unfit to produce the 
movements and leads the soul to quit the body.' 

The biology of Descartes appears to have been accepted by 
contemporary physiologists like van Helmont and Borelli, and 
certainly commended itself to another philosopher of eminence, 
Leibnitz. Like Descartes, Leibnitz also affirms that the body is 
a machine or natural automaton ; imUke Descartes, however, he 
refuses to believe that the mind directs the machine ia any way. 
Rather there is a complete series of psychical parallel to a complete 
series of physical events, and between the two a pre-established 

Although the details of Cartesian physiology have long siace 
been exploded, yet the mechanical principle which that philosophy 
enunciated so clearly has persisted and has indeed proved to be 
the rock on which modern physiological science has been built. 
For, when once the chemists had discovered animal and plant 
structure to be composed of elements found in lifeless bodies, and 
had proved that compounds found only in the organism could yet 
be synthesized in vitro, there was no longer any reason why the 
properties of the compounds should be considered as of a different 
order to the properties of their component elements. A method 
applicable to one was applicable to the other, and as Claude 
Bernard has put it, mechanical, physical, and chemical forces are 
the only effective agents in the living body, and they are the only 
agencies of which the physiologist has to take account. 

The substances of which the living body is made up are no 
doubt extremely complex, yet none the less — to quote a more 
recent writer, Verworn — ' physiology is in the last resort the 
chemistry of the proteids '. This is the principle that has now for 
nearly a centm^y guided and stimulated research into the functions 
of the organism : to this principle physiologists, too numerous to 
name, have not been ashamed to subscribe : imder its banner 
some of the proudest triumphs of the science have been won. 
Yet it is precisely this which modern or neo-vitalism has chal- 
lenged and asks us to relinquish in favour of a theory of psychoids 
or a pseudo-metaphysical view of life. 

The vitalistic position may be assailed from two points, the 
scientific and the philosophical. 

In the first place the vitalist 'asserts that mechanism is inade- 
quate to explain the phenomena of metabolism, of transmission of 


nervous stimuli, or of development. It is upon the last of these 
that Driesch lays special stress. 

He has urged, as we have seen, that although a mechanical 
explanation might be given (such an explanation has indeed been 
put forward by himself) of the specific differentiation of the 
organism by supposing the first-formed elementary organs, de- 
veloped out of the substances given in the initial structure of the 
germ, to act and react upon one another in accordance with a certain 
harmony, provided for by the same structure ; yet a mechanism 
which can be subdivided ad libitum or almost ad libitum, and 
each part of which wiU still give rise to a complete organism, is iiot 
to be conceived. The answer to this objection has, however, been 
supplied by the experiments of Driesch himself and of many others. 
For though it is true that each of the first two, four, eight, or even 
in some cases each of the first sixteen cells into which the fertilized 
ovum becomes segmented, can, when separated from its fellows, A 
give rise to a complete organism, yet in aU cases there comes a time \ 
when the parts cease to be totipotent and produce not whole but \ 
partial structures. 

This invariable restriction of potentialities, which occtu's earlier 
in some cases than in others, and is not due to mere deficiency 
of substance, is not hard to account for. 

Those substances on the presence of which in the ovum, as 
experiment has taught us, the formation of the elementary organs 
of the embryo or larva depends, are arranged in different cases in 
different ways : and they certainly may be, and very frequently 
are, so distributed that whUe each of the first four ceUs contains 
a like quantity of each of these specific substances, arranged in it 
exactly as they were in the whole ovum, the next division will 
sunder these materials in such a way that of the resulting eight 
blastomeres four wiU have more of one of the primary egg-sub- 
stances, less of another ; the amounts apportioned to the other 
four being in just the inverse ratio of this : and the result will be 
a difference in the fate of the cells when they are isolated from one 
another. In those of the one group the proportions of the organs 
developed out of these substances will not be the same as they are 
in the other. This is precisely the result which experiment has 
revealed ; it is exactly this result which Driesch has ignored, or 
rather attempted to explain away. 

It is evident, then, that to some extent the parts of this 


mechanism are interchangeable, that it can be subdivided, and that 
each part, brought now under new conditions, will still possess the 
potentiaUties of the whole, just as such a mechanism as a rocket, ^ 
out of which, under the appropriate stimulus, a certain pattern of ! 
stars is developed, might be subdivided into two or more rockets I 
of half size or less. There is, however, a limit to this interchange- 
ability, whUe if the subdivision be carried beyond a certain point j 
the totipotence of the parts is lost. 

-If the number of these organ-forming substances given in the 
g^rm were very large, as large, let us suppose, as the total number 
,/bf separately inheritable characters, it might indeed be difficult to 
imagine a mechanism divisible into even two totipotent parts. 
But from the need for this assumption we are saved by the second 
part of Driesch's own Analytische Theorie, which accoimts for 
subsequent processes of differentiation by attributing the produc- 
tion of new parts to the mutual interactions of those that are the 
first to appear. For this also experimental evidence, though 
meagre, is not lacking, while a close parallel is found in the depen- 
dence of certain bodily functions upon substances — the hormones 
of Professor Starling — secreted by other organs. 

In the second place the vitalist maintains that the processes of 
metabolism defy, nay more, always will defy, chemical and physical 
analysis. The first part of this statement may be a true descrip- 
tion of the knowledge of to-day, but the existence in the living 
body of the same elements as are met with elsewhere, the synthesis 
of complex organic substances, the establishment of the equiva- 
lence of the energy which leaves the body as mechanical work or 
heat to that which enters it in chemical form in the food, should 
surely make us hesitate before abandoning all hope of attaining 
to a chemistry of Ufe. 

And thirdly, there are physiologists who believe that the com- 
plex phenomena presented to us in the activities of the nervous 
system are susceptible of a purely mechanical explanation. 

'A feature', says Gotch, ' which more particularly suggests spon- 
taneous cellular activity is the weU-known fact that centrifugal 
discharges may contmue after the obvious centripetal ones have 
ceased. This is pre-eminently the case when the central mass is 
rendered extremely unstable by certain chemical compounds, such 
as strychnine, &c. There are, however, suggestive indications in 
connexion with such persistent discharges. The more completely 


all the centripetal paths are blocked by severance and other means, 
the less perceptible is such persistent discharge, and since nervous 
impulses are continually streaming into the central mass from all 
parts, even from those in apparent repose, it would seem that could 
we completely isolate nerve-cells, their discharge would probably 
altogether cease.' Even in the hyper-excitable condition produced 
by strychnine the spinal motor nerve cells do not discharge centri- 
fugal impulses when cut off from the centripetal connexions. The 
physiologist, therefore, has ' definite grounds for beheving that, as 
far as present knowledge goes, both the production and cessation 
of central nervous discharges are the expression of propagated 
changes and that these changes reveal themselves as physico- 
chemical alterations of an electrolytic character. The nervous 
process, which rightly seems to us so recondite, does not, in the 
light of this conception, owe its physiological mystery to a new 
form of energy, but to the circumstance that a mode of energy 
displayed in the non-living world occiu-s in colloidal electrolytic 
structures of great chemical complexity.' 

To all these considerations we must add the fact that life did 
once originate upon this planet from matter which was not alive, 
and that even now some inorganic phenornena present at least 
remote analogies with certain vital processes.\ Such are the struc- 
ture, the spontaneous division, and the regeneration of crystals. 
- — —We turn now to the philosophical objections that may be raised 
to vitaUstic speculations ; and here we must be careful to distin- 
guish what we may term the psychological from the metaphysical 
form of the theory. 

Driesch has maintained that the belief in a morphaesthetic 
psychoid finds support in the philosophies of Kant and Aristotle. 
Let us examine the merits of this claim. 

Like the scientists of to-day, Kant, in his Critique of the Teleo- 
logical Judgement, lays it down as a rule that the mechanical method, 
by which natural phenomena are brought imder general laws of 
causation and so explained, shoTold in aU cases be pushed as far 
as it will go, for this is a principle of the determinant judgement. 
There are cases, however, in which this alone does not suffice.^ 
The possibility of the growth and nutrition, above all of the repro-| 
duction and regeneration of organisms, is only fully intelligible, 
through another quite distinct kind of causality, their purposive- ' 
ness. Organisms are not mere machines, for these have simply 


moving power. Organisms possess in themselves formative power! 
of a self-propagating kind, which they communicate to their| 
materials. They are, in fact, natural purposes, both cause and\ 
effect of themselves, in which the parts so combine that they are t 
reciprocally both end and means, existing not only by means of one 
another but for the sake of one another and the whole. The whole ! 
is thus an end which determines the process, a final cause which 1 
brings together the required matter, modifies it, forms it, and puts I 
it in its appropriate place. Such purposiveness is internal, for the } 
organism is at once its own cause and an end to itself, not merely I 
a means to other ends, like a machine whose purposiveness is ' 
relative and whose cause is external. 

Such is the principle of the teleological judgfement. It is a 
heuristic principle rightly brought to bear, at least problematically, 
upon the investigation of organic nature, by a distant analogy 
with our own causality according to purposes generally, and indis- 
pensable to us, as anatomists, as a guiding thread if we wish to 
learn how to cognize the constitution of organisms without aspiring 
to an investigation into their first origin. 

Could our cognitive faculties rest content with this maxim of the 
reflective judgement it would be impossible for them to conceive of 
the production of these things in any other fashion than by attri- 
buting them to a cause working by design, to a Being which would 
be productive in a way analogous to the causality of intelli- 
gence. Natural science, however, needs not merely reflective but 
determinant principles which alone can inform us of the possi- 
bility of finding the ultimate explanation of the world of organisms 
in a causal combination for which an luiderstanding is not expli- 
citly assumed, since the principle of purposes does not make the 
mode of origination of organic beings any more comprehensible. 
And then, in a passage remarkable for its prophetic insight, Kant 
proceeds to show how this might be. This ' analogy of forms ', he 
says, ' which with all their difference seem to have been produced i 
according to a common original type, strengthens our suspicion ! 
of an actual relationship between them in their production from 
a common parent, through the gradual approximation of one genus 
to another— from those in which the principle of purposes seems 
to be best authenticated, that is from man down to the poljrpe, 
and again from this down to mosses and lichens, and finally to the 
lowest stage of nature noticeable by us, namely, crude matter '. 


And so the whole technic of nature, which is so incomprehensible 
to us in organized beings that we believe ourselves compelled to 
think a different principle for it, seems to be derived from matter 
and its powers according to mechanical laws like those by which 
it opierates in the formation of crystals. A purposiveness must, how- 
ever, be attributed even to the crude matter, otherwise it would not 
be possible to think the purposive form of animals and plants. 

Although there are doubtless in the Critique many obscurities 
and inconsistencies, to which we cannot allude now, the general 
meaning of Kant's reflections upon organisms is perfectly clear. 
He who would ' complete the perfect roimd ' of his knowledge must 
think not only in beginnings but in ends. The end in the case 
of a living being is apparently plain — it is the maintenance and 
reproduction of its form; the end in the case of the cosmic 
process is to be sought in the ethical, or, in Kantian phraseology, the 
' practical ' concept of the freedom of the moral consciousness of man. 

Such a position is quite intelligible, philosophically, but the 
testimony it brings to the theory of the psychoid is of very doubtful 
value, as Driesch is well aware. He complains indeed that Kant's 
teleology is descriptive or 'static', rather than 'd3Tiamic', as is 
perfectly true, except in the case of man, a point of which Driesch 
natxu-ally makes the most. There are, no doubt, passages where 
Kant speaks of ' a cause which brings together the required matter, 
modifies it, forms it and puts it in its appropriate place ' ; but against 
these must be set the explicit statement ' that if the body has an 
alien principle (the soul) in commiuiion with it, the body must 
either be the instrument of the soul — which does not make the 
soul a whit more comprehensible — or be made by the soul, in which 
case it would not be corporeal at all.' VitaHsm can glean small 
comfort from this. Let us turn, then, to the second authority. 

As we have seen already, the souls or fmictions of nutrition 
and perception are, in the AristoteHan biology, ultimately to be 
expressed as alterations or movements of the particles of the body ; 
mind alone is separable from body and eternal. 

In the development of the individual organism the mind comes 
in from outside, but the two souls of lower order are present in the 
avepfjia, or /cuT^/xa, as Aristotle calls it, which results from the com- 
mingling of the male and female elements, or, as we should say, the 
fertilized ovum. The material and eflGlcient causes of develop- 
ment are not, however, both contributed by each of the parents. 


The teaching of Aristotle is that the matter is provided by the 
female and the female alone. The egg (or catamenia in mammals) 
is described as being mere matter {v\rj), body [a-Zfia), potentiahty 
(8vW/xi9), passive {7radr)TiK6v) and merely quantitative, although 
it is true that a sort of soul, the nutritive, is somewhat grudgmgly 
conceded to it, since unfertilized eggs appear in some sense to be 
alive. The male element, on the other hand, provides the prmciple 
of motion (apxv ^V"^ Kiv^a-ecj?) and the form (elSos) ; it is qualita- 
tive, it is activity, it produces the perceptive soul, if it is not itself 
that soul, and it is responsible for the ' correct proportionality ' 
(\oyos) of the organization. The male element contributes only 
motion, but no matter ; it acts upon the female element as rennet 
acts when it coagulates milk, except that the analogy is incomplete, 
since the yovri brings about a qualitative and not merely a quanti- 
tative change in the material on which it operates. To this it 
imparts the same kind of motion which itself possesses, the motion 
which was present in the particles of the food in its final form from 
which it was itself derived. The communication of this motion is 
enough to set going the machinery (avTojaaTot-) ; the rest then 
follows of itself in proper order. 

Lastly, the sperm of the male acts Like a cunning workman who 
makes a work of art, using heat and cold as the workman uses his 
tools : for this heat and this cold could never of themselves — ^by 
coagulations and condensations — produce the form of the body as 
the older naturalists had supposed, regarding only the efficient and 
ignoring the formal and the final cause : for the organic body is not 
what it is because it is produced in such and such a fashion, rather it is 
because it is to be such and such that it must be developed as it is. 

And here lies the kernel of the whole matter. For while Aris- 
totle has made it perfectly plain that, according to his idea, the soul, 
at least its nutritive and perceptive faculties, is to be regarded as 
a function of matter and that this function may be ultimately 
expressed in terms of movement, and further that development is 
a mechanism which is set going by the communication of motion 
proceeding from the ' soul ' of the male element and derivable 
eventually from the motions into which the ' functions ' or ' soul ' 
of the parent can be resolved to the mere matter which the female 
provides, it is equally evident that he does not regard this mechani- 
cal explanation — in terms of material and efficient causes — as 
satisfactory or 'complete. But when we inquire why, he gives us no 


certain nor consistent answer. On the one hand, there are passages 
in which he tells us that there must be something which controls the 
material forces and imposes on them a limit and proportionaHty of 
growth ; that the soul makes use of them as the artist makes use 
of his implements, and such passages are naturally interpreted by 
Driesch in the sense of a ' dynamic ' teleology ; it is the xjjvxn which 
superintends and controls, and the xjjvxn is 'entelechy'. 

Elsewhere, however, we are informed that even the proportion- 
ality of the developing parts is simply the outcome of the motion 
imparted by the male, which is actu what the female element only 
is potentia. 

Moreover, it may be questioned whether Aristotle ever intended 
to imply more than an ' analogy with the causality of purpose ' 
when he uses the figure of the workman and his implements to 
illustrate his meaning of the formal cause. The formal cause of 
a work of art is an intelligible vera causa; it is the idea in the 
mind of the artist antecedent to the execution of the work ; but the 
formal or final cause of an organism, the end which it apparently 
strives to attain, can only be said by a metaphor to be prior in time 
to the existence of the organism itself. Prior in thought, however, it 
certainly is, for it is only the performance of its functions (eVreXexeia) 
by the organism complete in all its parts that makes the mere 
mechanism of development comprehensible to us ; the process, 
therefore, exists for the sake of the end. Only as efi&cient cause 
is the sold prior in time ; only so far as it is prior in thought can 
it be said to be a final cause. 

Such a teleology is, it is obvious, indistinguishable in principle 
from the position in which Kant leaves us. It is the position 
adopted by Driesch himself in his earher Analytische Theorie, but 
abandoned in the Vitalismus in favour of a theory of ' psychoids '. 

Now quite apart from the meaning which Aristotle may or may 
not have intended to convey, there are grave objections to this 
belief. This ' psychoid ', to which the name ' entelechy ' is surely 
misapplied, this rudimentary feehng and willing, which is aware of 
the form it desires to produce, must be psychically at least as com- 
plex as the phenomena it is designed to account for, and stands, 
therefore, as much in need of explanation as they ; as Kant has 
observed, this will involve us at once in an infinite series of such 
entities. In fact it is only a photograph of the problem, and not 
a solution at all. 


Again, when we ask what the modus operandi of this cause is, we 
get no reply either from Driesch or from any other neovitaKst. 
The objection that the intervention of a psychical cause in a physi- 
cal process is uninteUigible, an objection which would probably 
appeal to many, may be waived, for in the last resort the connexion 
between any— even simple mechanical — causes and effects is 
equally hard to understand. 

It may, however, be doubted whether these entities are not 
being multipHed beyond necessity, and whether the progress of 
science would not be better served by an adherence to a simpler 
philosophy. But even when it has discarded the psychoid we 
find vitaUsm still denying the possibility of mechanical explanation, 
stiU preaching the autonomy of the organism. The ' dynamic ' 
teleology of Driesch has only disappeared to be replaced by the 
metaphysical doctrine of the final cause. 

We may point out, perhaps, in passing, that the organism is by ' 
no means as autonomous as might be desired. The end towards 
which the creature strives, the maintenance and reproduction of 
its own specific form, is not a constant terminus ad quern, for species \ 
are as mortal as individuals : nor is it always achieved ; tha 
autonomy of a worm, which, bisected in a certain way, regenerates 
a tail instead of a head, or of a frog, which, after a particular injury, 
develops six legs instead of two, has surely renounced iti rights. 
But, setting this aside, it must be seriously questioned whether any 
good purpose is served in biological discussion by decrying the value 
of mechanical conceptions or by confounding two distinct orders of 
thought. The questions are grave ones : for the issue at stake is 
no less than the existence of physiology as the science of the causes 
of living activities. 

' Recte ponitur ', said Francis Bacon, ' vere scire esse per causas 
scire.' The maxim of the great founder of modern inductive 
science has been the lode-star of biology in the past, and is stiU its 
watchword to-day. By exact observation and crucial experiment, 
utilizing every canon of induction, the activities of the living 
organism are to be brought under wide general laws of causation, 
which wiQ be, in the first instance, physiological laws — of response 
to stimuli, of metabolism, and of growth : by means of these laws 
predictions can be made, and verified as often as we please. But 
no bar can legitimately be set to the scope of human inquiry ; 
the thought process will not rest here, and ultimately it may be 


possible to state the widest generalizations of biology in chemical 
and physical, and these again in purely mechanical terms. The 
maintenance and evolution of form in the individual, as well as the 
larger evolution of form in the race, become but the final terms in 
a far vaster cosmic process, from ' homogeneity to heterogeneity '. 

The idea is, of course, perfectly f amUiar : it is the analysis of 
purely physical causes, carried to its extreme limit. Phenomena 
are thought out in terms not of origins merely, but of one origin, 
and that one origin is the only mystery that remains. This unifica- 
tion of the sciences has always been and must still remain the dream 
and the faith and the inspiration of the scientific man, and could 
such an edifice of the intellect ever be realized, the task of science 
would have been completed. Only when this purely deterministic 
method has been pushed as far as it wiU go does science leave off ; 
only where science leaves off does philosophy begin. 

There is an order of time, and there is an order of thought. 
Science works in the order of time, and necessarily so : for although 
science can never say what constitutes the invariable link between 
antecedent and consequent which it terms causal, yet it rightly 
speaks of the first as cause, determining the second as effect, since 
it is its function to predict from the past which is known to the 
f utiu-e which is not. 

But the outlook of philosophy is different. Dissatisfied with 
the endless regress of cause and effect, sceptical of first causes and 
original homogeneities, out of which by no conceivability could 
any heterogeneity have ever been developed, philosophy looks to 
the end. 

The activities of living organisms at least appear to be directed 
to an end ; they are apparently purposive, and it is this purposive- 
ness which lends to biology, though buUt on the fundamental con- 
ceptions of chemistry and physics, pecuHar features of its own, and 
is, of course, answerable for the teleological language which biolo- 
gists so frequently employ. And by a knowledge of the end, the 
view of science, to which qua science it cannot too rigidly confine 
itself, wiU doubtless be supplemented and enlarged. 

But, plain and definite though the end of an individual life may 
be, the end of the race — of the human or any other race — the end 
of the universe, are things only to be guessed at, and all we are left 
with is an indefinite series of evolving systems emerging out of an 
infinite past and fading into an infinite futinre. 


In the final issue, indeed, the last effect is as delusive an ignis 
fatuus as the first cause. The philosophy which has rejected one 
must divest itseK of the other, and seek its end, if anywhere, in 
the logical 'prius of the mind, which, though last in time, is yet first 
in thought, since through it alone that ordered knowledge of 
nature which we call science be born and brought to perfection. 

From the Italian translation of 'KETHAM', VENICE 1493 

• ' y- 

P = 


- 1 



























Written in 1314 



c irca 1298 



By Charles Singer 


I. Anatomy in the Fourteenth 

and Fifteenth Centuries . 79 

II. Bolognese Works on Anatomy 92 

III. Hieronymo Manfredi, Pro- 
fessor at Bologna, 1463-93 . 97 

rV. The Manuscript Anatomy of 

Manfredi 103 


V. Translation of Selected Pas- 
sages from the Anothomia, 
with Commentary . . .106 
(a) The Brain, Cranial 

Nerves, &c 106 

(h) The Eye 118 

(c) The Heart . . . .122 
Italian Text of the Anothomia 130 

I. Anatomy in the Fourteenth and Fieteenth Centuries 

There was little or no progress in the knowledge of anatomy 
between the death of Mondino in 1327 and the sixteenth century. 
This appears the more remarkable when we recall how widespread 
was the practice of dissection during the period. In France, at the 
University of Montpelher, public dissections were decreed in the year 
1377,^ and Catalonian Lerida followed suit in 1391.^ At Bologna, 
where dissection had long been customary, it received official recog- 
nition in the University Statutes in 1405,* and the same event took 
place at Padua in 1429. PubHc anatomies were instituted at the 
University of Prague in 1460, of Paris in 1478, and of Tubingen in 
1485.* For these 'Anatomies' the bodies of executed criminals 
were usually employed, and therefore the number of subjects 
available varied greatly in different localities.* In addition to 

1 CaHvlaire de I'Universite de ManPpdlier {1180-1518), Montpellier, 1894, p. 21. 

2 Dates of the institution of dissection at this and other Universities are given 
by F. Baker in Bulletin of the Johns Hopkins Hospital, vol. xx, p. 331, Balti- 
more, 1909. 

3 Statuti dell' Universita di Medicina e di Arti del 1405, Ruhr. Ixxxxvi (' De 
anothomia quolibet anno fienda ') in the Statuti delle Universita e dei coUegi dello 
Stvdio bolognese, edited by Carlo Malagola, Bologna, 1888, p. 289. 

* J. Saxinger, Ueher die Entmckdung des medizinischen Unterrichts an der 
Tubinger Hochschule, Tubingen, 1884, pp. 5 and 10. 

5 How rarely dissections were conducted in some of the Universities may be 
gathered from the first statutes of the medical faculty of Tubingen, dated 1497. 
These ordain a dissection every three or four years. Not till 1601 was an anatomy 











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1— ( 
















(— < 





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<1 >>^ > 

C^ g X 







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t— ( 





I— I 




I — I 




these regular dissections, there was certainly a considerable amount 
of post-mortem examination, surreptitious (Plate xxvin6^), or 
even open (Plate xxix^), long before Benivieni pubUshed his 
memorable list of cases.' 

That so much industry was rewarded by so small an increase in 
knowledge may probably be attributed to the method adopted. 

held at Tubingen even once a year (see Saxinger, loc. cit.). Even at Montpellier 
in the sixteenth century the scarcity was so great that Rondelet (1507-66) was 
on one occasion reduced to dissect the body of his son. For this terrible incident 
see A. Portal, Histoire de I'Anatomie et Chirurgie, Paris, 1770, vol. i, p. 522 ; 
A. Haller, Bibliotheca anatomica, Lib. iv, § clxxxiv, Leyden, 1774, vol. i, p. 205 ; 
and A. 0. Goelicke, Introductio in historiam litterariam anatomes, Frankfurt, 1738, 
p. 136. There was, however, a relatively plentiful supply of subjects in the 
Italian Universities and especially at Bologna and Padua in the fourteenth, 
fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries (cp. A. Haller, Bibliotheca anatomica, introduc- 
tion to Lib. V, p. 218). This was perhaps due to the utterly depraved state of 
public and private morals to which the peoples of the peninsula had been re- 
duced by the excesses of the tyrants and the condottieri. 

1 Plate xxvni b is perhaps the earliest representation of the practice of dissec- 
tion yet brought to light. It is described in Charles Singer, ' Thirteenth-Century 
Miniatures illustrating Medical Practice', Proceedings of the Royal Society of 
Medicine, Section of the History of Medicine, 1916, vol. ix, pp. 29-42. 

^ Plate XXIX : a post-mortem scene in the late fourteenth century, from a 
French MS. of the Grande Chirurgie of Guy de Chauliac, BibUotheque de laFaculte 
de Medecine de Montpellier, MS. 184 fran§ais, folio 14 recto. The scene is laid 
in the bedroom of the deceased. In the left-hand top comer is the bed, by the 
side of which a female figure, partly obhterated, is praying. Below and to the 
left are two other female figures, and a man richly dressed in an ermine-trimmed 
robe. These are presumably the relatives of the dead. The corpse, that of 
a woman, has been placed on a bare table and is opened from the larynx to the 
symphysis pubis. In front stands a lad holding a round wooden vessel for the 
reception of the viscera, and farther to the right is a stool on which are placed 
two or three instruments. The physician, in full canonicals, is at the extreme 
right of the picture. The actual process of examination is being made by three 
of his assistants. To the left the first of these deepens, with a knife, the incision 
that has already been made over the sternum, the second is grasping with his 
two hands and rolling up the great omentum so as to display the viscera beneath, 
and the third holds a wand in his right hand, with which he points to the abdomen, 
while in his left he carries a book. Five others throng into the room from a passage 
which opens into it. 

^ Antonio Benivieni, De abditis nonnullis ac mirandis morborum et sanationum 
causis, Florence, 1506. In the description of Case 32, Benivieni expresses surprise 
at having been refused permission to perform a post-mortem examination, as 
though it were unusual for him to meet rebuffs of the kind. ' Experimento 
comprobare volentes, corpus incidere tentavimus sed nescio qua superstitione 
negantibus cognatis, voti compotes fieri nequivimus.' 

1892 Q 


The so-called ' anatomies ' were conducted in the most formal 
manner. Bertuccio, for example, who succeeded Mondino as 
professor of Surgery at Bologna, was accustomed, as we learn from 
his pupil Guy de Chauliac, to give short systematic anatomical 
demonstrations on a fixed and rigid method.^ The occupant of 

the chair at this period 
was indeed no professor 
in the modern sense of 
the word. To expound 
the tradition of anatomy 
as it had reached him was 
regarded as the limit of 
his duty. Of any attempt 
to extend the bounds of 
knowledge, of any sys- 
tematic endeavour to 
correct or improve the 
anatomical views of his 
predecessors, we find little 
or no trace. Indeed, at 
Padua it was expressly 
laid down in the statutes 
that the exposition of 
anatomy should follow 
the very words of Mon- 

Early figures portray- 
ing the teaching of ana- 
tomy (Plate xxvir and 
Figs. 1-3, 5) usually show 
us a medical doctor sitting 
at a desk, well removed 
from the subject of dis- 
section, and reading from his text-book the description of the 
part. Meanwhile an assistant, who is usually also a doctor, 
performs the actual work of dissection. The professor of 

1 See E. Nicaise, La Grande Chirurgie de Guy de Chauliac, p. 30, Paris, 1890. 

2 ' Ut Anatomici explicationem ipsius Mundini sequantur ', Francesco Maria 
CoUe, Storia scientifico-letteraria ddlo Studio di Padova, 4 vols., Padua, 1824-5 
vol. iii, p. 108. 3 Martin von Mellerstadt, also called Pollich or Polich. 

Fig. 2. Title-page of Mellerstadt's edition of the 
Anatomy of Mondino, Leipzig, 1493. The scene is laid 
in the open air.^ 


Surgery, to whom the teaching of anatomy was entrusted, 
stands by with a pointer to indicate the different organs. 

From the Venice 1495 edition of ' Ketham ' (compare^Plate xxvn). 

Sometimes the professor changes places with the reader at the 
desk. In some later MSS. the teacher is figured as himself 
handling the body and demonstrating to his pupil (Plate xxx a^ 

1 Plate xxx a, from a late fifteenth-century Provenyal translation of the 
Grande Chirurgie of Guy de Chauhac. Vatican Library, MS. hispanice 4804, folio 



and b^), but there is evidence that the miniatures portraying this 
are the work of artists unfamihar with dissection and with the 
teaching of anatomy. 

The study of anatomy had to contend with two great difficulties, 
want of subjects for dissection, and faith in the written word. 

Thus, at Bologna, where it was arranged that every medical 
student of over two years' standing should attend an Anatomy once 
a year, no less than twenty students were admitted to see the 
anatomy of each man, and thirty to the anatomy of each woman. ^ 
This was all the practical instruction received. Some other Uni- 
versities had to be content with the cadaver of a single criminal 
per annum for the whole body of students. 

In the first period during which the human body was dissected 
in Europe, the thirteenth century, a certain amount of progress was 
certainly made, despite the rarity of subjects. The rebirth of learn- 
ing in the thirteenth century was not, however, as favourable to 
anatomical progress as might have been hoped. Galen, indeed, 
ceased to be a mere name, and the Latin translations of his text, or 
of its adumbra in the writings of the Arabians, became ever more 
familiar. On the other hand, with more authoritative texts in 
their hands, men were but the more inclined to follow the evil 
scholastic way, and to trust rather to the written words of the 
master than to the evidence of their own senses. Thus it came 
about that the second period, which covers the fourteenth and 
most of the fifteenth century, was really stationary so far as the 
first-hand knowledge of anatomy was concerned. With the last 
decade of the fifteenth century, however, there opens a new and 

8 recto. A professor and pupil are examining a wasted corpse placed on a trestle 
in the open air. The teacher is pointing out the surface markings. 

1 Plate XXX b, from the French Guy de Chauliac MS. in the Bristol Reference 
Library, foUo 25 recto. The MS. dates from between the years 1420 and 1435 ; 
cp. Norris Mathews, Early Printed Books and MSS. in the Bristol Reference Library, 
Bristol, 1899, p. 70 ; J. A. Nixon, 'A New Guy de Chauliac MS.', in Transactions 
of the XVIIth Internal. Cong, of Med., Sect, of Hist, of Med., London, 1914, p. 419 ; 
and Charles Singer, ' The Figiu-es of the Bristol Guy de Chauliac MS. circa 1430 ', 
Proceedings of the Royal Society of Medicine, Section of the History of Medicine, 
1917, vol. X, pp. 71-91. The figure shows a professor and pupil. The former is 
demonstrating the bones of a skeleton. 

2 The number of female criminals being less than the number of male criminals, 
Ludovico Frati states {La vita privata di Bologna dal secolo XIII al X VII, Bologna, 
1900, pp. 116-18) that only two anatomies in all were held each year, and thirty 
students admitted to the female and twenty to the male dissection. This would 
mean far less than two dissections a year for each stvdent of over two years' standing. 















Plate XXXII. From the MS. of GUY DE VIGEVANO of 1345 


Fig. 4. From the English translation of Bartholomaeus Anglious, printed by Wynkyn de 
Worde, 1495. The first picture of dissection in an English- printed book. 


From the 1535 Venice edition of Berengar of Carpi's Commentary on Mondino. 


third period in the history of our subject. From that time dates 
the true era of anatomical renaissance, which may be regarded as 
continuing until the commencement of modern anatomy with the 
great work of Vesalius in 1543. 

We have said that throughout the second period, the formal 
demonstrations based on the declaimed text of Galen or Avicenna 
or Mondino were practically the sole opportunities afforded to 
either teacher or pupil for the investigation of the minuter details 
of the human frame. But in making this statement concerning the 
arrest of anatomical progress, we must expressly exclude the pro- 
ducts of the mighty genius of Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519), whose 
anatomical researches were without influence, and remained long 
unnoticed.^ We must also omit evidence gathered from the work 
of such early Renaissance painters as Antonio PoUaiuolo (1429-98) 
or Andrea del Verrocchio (1435-88), for these pursued the study 
of anatomy in a special field and with a special object.^ Further- 
more, there are a number of artists of similar date of whose 
anatomical studies we have no direct evidence, but who yet 
outlined the muscles of the nude human figure in such a way as 
leads us to suppose that they had investigated the superficial 
structures at least of flayed parts. Such is the suggestion of some 
of the work of Luca SignoreUi (c. 1442-c. 1524), and of Andrea Man- 
tegna (died 1506). With such reservations, however, it is probably 
true that no evidence is forthcoming until the last decade of the 
fifteenth century of any advance from the standpoint of Mondino.* 

But if descriptive anatomy developed slowly in the hands 

1 The anatomical works of Leonardo have now been rendered accessible in 
Tredici Foglie ddla Royal Library di Windsor. Leonardo da Viv^i, Quaderni 
d'anatomia . . . Pubblicati da O. G. L. Vangensten, A. Fonahm, H. Hopstock, 
Christiania, 1911, &c. 

2 PoUaiuolo and Verrocchio only studied surface anatomy, so far as is known. 
For a summary of the anatomical work of these painters see M. Duval and 
E. Cuyer, Histoire de V Anatomic plastique, p. 20, Paris, 1898. 

3 It has been suggested that Giammatteo Ferrari da Grado (Matthaeus de 
Gradibus), who was professor of Medicine at Pavia 1432-72, made original 
contributions to anatomy. He wrote no separate work on anatomy, but his 
observations on the ovaries (which he was perhaps the first to call by that name) 
appear in his Practica, Milan, 1471, and in his Expositiones super vigesimam 
secundam Fen tertii canonis Avicennae, Milan, 1494. An interesting account of 
Ferrari's Ufe and work is given by his descendant, H. M. Ferrari, in Une Chaire 
de Medecine au X F* siecle ; Un professeur a Vuniversite de Pavie de 1432 a 1472, 
Paris, 1899. In this work the claim that De Gradibus was an original and inde- 
pendent observer is effectively disposed of. 


of the physicians, the art of graphic representation of anatomical ; 
structures was still more backward. Several groups of anatomical 
drawings of mediaeval date have come down to our time, but 
examination of them shows that they have been drawn without 
direct reference to the human frame. Some of these figures are ^ 
of the crude type known as the ' five-figure series ' (Plate xxxm), } 
mere traditional diagrammatic sketches.^ Hardly better or more 
instructive are the series of dissections which illustrate certain MS. 
works of Henri de Mondeville (Plate xxviii a) ^ and Guido de 
Vigevano (Plates xxxi and xxxn), 1345.* A few sketches repre- 
senting the separate organs have also survived (Pig. 6),* but these 
never suggest that the draughtsman had before him the structure 
which he seeks to depict, and the drawings appear to have been 
made in order to illustrate contemporary physiological theory 
rather than observed anatomical fact. Even the magnificent 
illuminated Dresden Codex of Galen, prepared in France or Flan- 
ders as late as the second half of the fifteenth century, betrays not 
the slightest first-hand knowledge of anatomy. ^ Although the 

^ At least six Western copies of this series, besides three or more of oriental 
origin, have now been detected. The Western MSS. and their dates are as follows : 

(o) Munich, Hof- und Staatsbibliothek, Cod. lat. monacensis 13002, before 1158. 

(6) Mimich, Hof- und Staatsbibliothek, Cod. lat. monacensis 17403, circa 1250. 

(c) Bodleian Library, MS. Ashmole 399, circa 1290. 

{d) Dresden, Kgl. Offentl. Bibliothek, Codex 310, before 1323. 

(e) Bodleian Library, MS. e Museo 19, before 1344. 

(/) Library of Count F. Zdenho von Lobkowicz in Baudnitz, of 1399. 
See E. Seidel and K. SudhofE, especially ' Drei weitere anatomische Fiinf bilderserien 
aus Abendland und Morgenland', in Archivfiir Oesch. der Med.,m, p. 165, Leipzig, 

2 Cp. K. Sudhoflf in Bin Beitrag zur Gesch. der Anatomic im MitteJalter, Leipzig, 

* E. Wickersheimer, ' L' Anatomic de Guido de Vigevano, medecin de la reine 
Jeanne de Bourgogne (1345) ', in Archiv fiir Geschichte der Med., vii. 1, Leipzig, 
1914. M. Wickersheimer has kindly given permission for the reproduction of the 
figures in Plates xxxi and xxxii. 

* Notably the MS. Roncioni 99, dating from the first half of the twelfth century, 
in the University Library of Pisa, reproduced by K. SudhofE in the Archiv fiir 
Gesch. der Med., vii, Tafel xiv, 1914. Also separate organs are depicted in the 
Bodleian MS. Ashmole 399, dating from the end of the thirteenth century, 
reproduced in Fig. 6. 

* The miniatures of the Dresden Codex have been studied by L. Choulant, 
Geschichte und Bibliographic der anatomischen Abbildung nach ihrer Beziehung 
auf anatomische Wissenschaft und bildende Kunst, Leipzig, 1852, and in the Archiv 


iUustrations of this MS. are prepared with the utmost technical 
skiU they yet show us a teacher exhibiting to his pupils a heart 
of the form found on playing-cards, and other anatomical figures 
scarcely more faithful to the facts (Plate xxxiv). 




After Bodleian Library MS. Ashmole 399 of about 1298, fos. 23 reoto-24 recto. 

The spirit of investigation of the artist who perforce went 
direct to nature, dissecting with his own hands and observing 

fiir die zeichnenden Kilnste, II. Jahrgang, Leipzig, 1856, p. 264. More recently 
the MS. has been most carefully described and its miniatures reproduced by 
E. C. van Leersum and W. Martin, Miniaturen der lateinischen Galenos-Handschrift 
der kgl. offentl. Bibliothek in Dresden, in phototypischer Beproduktion, Leyden, 1910. 
We have to thank Dr. Van Leersum of Leyden for kind permission to reproduce 
the figures of Plate xxxiv. 


with his own eyes (Plate xxxvi), showed itself indeed far more 
fruitful than the tedious ex cathedra methodization of the pro- 
fessor.^ Yet the system of the schools needed to be combined 
with the freedom of the artist for the production of an effective 
anatomical work. What the projected treatise of Marcantonio 
della Torre (1473-1506) might have been we may guess from 
the anatomical sketches of Leonardo da Vinci (Plate xxxv), who 
was to have been associated with him in the work.^ In the 
event, however, the medical schools had to wait yet another 
generation before the subject was placed on a sound basis by 
Andre Vesale. 

The Mondino pamphlet — ^for it is little more — used since its 
author's death in 1327 as a text-book in the schools of northern 
Italy, was first printed in 1478. Not until the last decade of the 
fifteenth century did there appear another work bearing evidence 
of the hand of a practical anatomist. This was an Italian trans- 
lation of Ketham's Fasciculus medicinae, impressed at Venice in the 
year 1493.* The volume comprises Mondino's pamphlet and a 
collection of other medical tracts that were probably put together 
by Giorgio di Montef errato from the work of a writer of the previous 
century, for their contents are traceable to a fourteenth-century 
MS.* The text is neither original nor remarkable, but the Venice 
volume derives its importance from certain figures which appear 
in it for the first time. 

Two of these plates are of great interest both intrinsically and 
also in relation to the history of anatomy. One of them is the 
magnificent representation of a dissection scene, which is regarded 
as perhaps the finest example of book illustration produced during 
the first century of typography * (Plate xxvn). This work of the 

1 Cp. P. Triaire, ies lefOTis d'anatomie et les peintres hollandais aux XVI' et 
XV IP siecles, Paris, 1887. 

2 For della Torre and his projected work on anatomy, see G. Cervetto, Di 
alcuni illustri anatomici italiani del decimoquinto secolo, p. 46, Verona, 1842 ; also 
L. Choulant, Geschichte der anatomischen Abbildung, p. 5, Leipzig, 1852. 

* The first edition appeared in Venice in 1491 and is in Latin. It is of less 
typographical interest. 

* K. Sudhoff, ' Eine Pariser "Ketham" Handschrift aus der Zeit Konig 
Karls VI (1380-1422) ', in Archivfur Geschichte der Medizin, vol. ii, p. 84, Leipzig, 
1909 ; ' Neue Beitrage zur Vorgeschichte des Ketham ', in Archiv fur Geschichte 
der Medizin, vol. v, p. 280, Leipzig, 1912. 

* Prince d'Essling, Les livres a figures venitiens de la fin du X F* siecle et du 
commencement du XV P, part i, vol. ii, p. 56, Florence and Paris, 1908. 


' maitre aux dauphins', as the miknown artist is called by critics/ 
is doubly interesting, for it is the subject of an experiment in colour 
printing, no less than four pigments being laid on by means of 
stencils. As early as 1457 the method of stencilling was employed 
for colouring the initials of a Psalter, and in 1485 Erhard Ratdolt 
in an astronomical work added yellow to the earlier red and black. 
The figure from which our plate is taken represents, however, the 
first attempt at a complex colour scheme and leads up to the work 
of Hugo da Carpi.* 

In this picture the professor, a youthful figure perhaps intended 
to represent Mondino himself, is shown standing at a desk which 
hides his book. Arovmd a corpse, laid on a trestle table before 
him, there cluster a number of men in doctor's robes. Their 
valid faces are sufficient to convince us that the artist is here pre- 
senting us with portraits. One of the listeners has removed his 
robe and stands with upturned sleeves and knife in hand, ready to 
make the first incision on the direction of the doctor, who points to 
the part with a wand held in the left hand. In the impression of 1495 
and in those of later date, the book appears above the desk, the 
attitudes of the students are somewhat changed, and many other 
details are altered. In all these, however, the blocks have been 
recut and the result is artistically inferior * (Fig. 3). 

The second plate from the 1493 Ketham with which we are 
here concerned is the outline of a female body, in a traditional 
pose,* laid open to exhibit some of the internal organs (Fig. 7). 
These had clearly been sketched from the object, and therefore 
this drawing, the first printed figure of its kind, may be said to 
introduce the new era for the investigation of the human frame. 
The anatomical renaissance had begun. Into a discussion of the 
full development of that age we cannot now enter. But the MS. 
of Manfredi, with which we have here to deal, was written at the 
very dawn of the new era and is itself one of its earliest documents. 

1 Eugene Plot, Le Cabinet de V amateur, nouv. serie, Paris, 1861, ' Le maitre aux 
dauphins ', p. 354 et seq. The dolphins are seen on either side of the chair in Plate 
XX vn. 

2 Due de Rivoli, Bibliographie des livres a figures venetiens, p. 110, Paris, 1893. 
^ Cp. G. Albertotti, Nuove osservazioni sul ' Fasciculus medicinae ' del Ketham, 

Padua, 1910. 

* See K. Sudhoff, ' Weibliche Situsbilder von ca. 1400-1543 ', in Tradition 
und Naturbeobachtung, p. 79, Leipzig, 1907. The number and character of the 
indication lines attached to this figure suggest that the block from which the 
impression has been taken had previously been used for some other publication. 
This work, however, if it exists, has not yet come to light. 

CcrtfJtu'i.i.dcloi diKltd 
OfifJincio di (.ipf git 


Ogm nICK' d< ambnUn' 
iTifiU uenrcdu Uqujlc 
nrjcoiu dc tu ego yi lego 

^nfiuion ti poppc 

Za fcctfnduia c Tna ar 
K pcllc nela qulc gucc 
d ptutoncUamauKC. 

pumclp^/CipJ^lctuo da 
rrcd« (agjcrii o uer c cjIi 


ftficnop<u nd frontc 
Ctnpiotciaoc fparo d(fi 

£mp<miao< apoflcma (n 
mnftfo . 

Kicorcrt. prina 
uio dtHtarro 


Sv-gatra otdisr^e inci- 
i(ctiiinfrifcnpt0 ciuaUa 
oono poixvKvoitnent 

n* CQcvuoKoccirtiofKde 
t>^eaardar«o< fmiida 
« no (U trop(»o (mrmote 
n< troppofratja nc fro ' 

So calda netroppo frigi- 
nuOrui dda ptrgnaticnc 
neobundantedc vantoa 
"*ou oncro buncbi nu 
(an^igriiHK fopaflut M 
ic dtgcihonc c (la (ftftnia 

OiJfrinuf^na aitapd 
liana c^k Tcpcra h mtbt 
narntuit daU vtcaU o oat 

3KHtU Aotutioniolc t( 
pumotpQca pir(cC;COd« 
<j6toiw f«da CIM.T alt 


1mp<Tocbc ft u doi ma dctppo €l corteii6im2lo ftntlra frfdo dotoidc rem 
ifcarti) dcojnccrnoni.i ftct «loi ddaficoa faoi dcUifafO fc vioicad mora 
rcc ftanodc .^epnoiicft ft dtfidcra aUon obciufitato fonv if m OMrbo 
fi4 < fSio dc < re tu uo:wi CapcK fcf mafctjio frmm J qodlo 
ctKc^ccputorftl cctoi del oolTO c roffa c rl ocnn-c frspcnlu dc U pane d/j 
iri in fcima rotonda « ci U«< tfte ddlcpoppc fpf (To i b<n cocto i dtflrthto 



From the 1493 Venice edition of ' Ketham ' translated into Italian. This la the first 

printed anatomical figure drawn from the object. 


II. BoLOGNBSE Works on Anatomy 
An organized Medical Faculty existed at Bologna at least as 
early as 1156,^ though the first record of dissection there is of con- 
siderably later date. In February 1302 a certain Azzolino died 
under suspicious circumstances. Poison was suspected, an inquest 
was held and a post-mortem examination ordered. The investiga- 
tion was conducted by two physicians and three surgeons, who 
unanimously agreed ' that the said Azzolino assuredly met his 
death by no poison, but on the contrary, we assert that the quantity 
of blood collected in the great vem known as the vena chilis 
[vena cava] ^ and in the veins of the liver adjacent thereunto, 
has prevented the due movement of the spiritus throughout the 
body, and has thus produced the diminution or rather extinc- 
tion of the innate heat and thereby induced a rapid post-mortem 
discoloration. Of this condition we have assured ourselves by the 
evidence of our own senses and by the anatomization of the parts.' * 

The first anatomical document emanatmg from the University 
of Bologna is, however, of still earlier date, and is the work of 
William of Saliceto (1210 ?-80). This writer was educated at 
Bologna, and it is claimed that he was the first to dissect the 
human body there.* His Cyrurgia, which was completed in 1275 
{editio princeps, Piacenza, 1476), is divided into five books, of 
which the fourth and shortest is devoted to anatomy. Its descrip- 
tions are brief and concise. They are often clearly the result of 
actual observation, and they show hardly any trace of the absurd 
and irritating teleology that the influence of the Arabians and 

1 Michele Medici, Delia vita e degli scritti degli anatomici e medici fioriti in 
Bologna dal comincio del secolo XIII, Bologna, 1853 ; Compendia storico della 
scuola anatomica di Bologna dal Rinascimento delle Scienze e delle Lettere a tutto il 
Secolo XVIII, Bologna, 1857. 

^ The mediaeval term, 'vena chilis', lasted in anatomy until the end of the 
sixteenth century and probably later. 'Chilis' is a corruption of the Greek 
KocXrj. This hybrid name was abandoned by Vesalius (Fabrica, 1543 Basle edition, 
p. 376) in favour of the title ' vena cava '. 

^ The passage is translated from Michele Medici, Compendio storico, pp. 10-11. 

* See A. Laboulbene, ' Les anatomistes anciens ', in Revue scientifique pour la 
France et pour V Stranger, vol. xxxvlii, p. 641, Paris, 1886 ; Robert Ritter von 
Toply in Puschmann, Page!, and Neuburger, Handhuch der Geschichte der Medizin, 
vol. ii, p. 197, Jena, 1903; G. Martinotti, ' L'insegnamento deU' Anatomia in 
Bologna prima del secolo xix ', in Studi e Memorie per la storia dell' universitd 
di Bologna, vol. ii, p. 51, Bologna, 1911. 








I — I 







^A^M^^JJ ctfiTimCC^uplmMrmci 

r F ^ ■^■m 



Second half of XVth Century 


of Galen made customary in early anatomical literature. The 
anatomy of Saliceto appears to us very sensible and so far as it goes 
practical. It betrays the method rather of the Salernitan than of 
the Arabian anatomical writings, and is on the whole the best 
European work of the kind before the Renaissance. It was, how- 
ever, soon replaced by the text-book of Mondino di Luzzi (1285- 
1327),^ which, though inferior to that of Saliceto, held the field 
until the subject was revolutionized by Vesalius. 

Mondino was professor at Bologna till his death in 1327. His 
work, easily accessible in one of its many editions, ' is corrupted by 
the barbarous leaven of the Arabian schools, and his Latin defaced 
by the exotic nomenclature of Avicenna and Rhazes '.^ But it is 
not the language alone that has suffered. The schoolman's atti- 
tude, well fitted for the classification of ideas, is an ill instrument 
for the investigation of Nature, and in the scholastic Mondino the 
very basis of scientific judgement is undermined, so that he readily 
accepts the views of the ancients against what must often have been 
the evidence of his own senses. The work, however useful to the 
contemporary student, was thus essentially reactionary as against 
the efforts of the earlier Salernitan anatomists and of William of 
Saliceto. This is the more remarkable because it is quite clear that 
he was accustomed to demonstrate on the actual body — a privilege 
denied to the early Salernitan school, — and he was, moreover, 
a popular and successful teacher. His work is a manual of dis- 
section rather than a treatise on anatomy. This, added to its 
conciseness and brevity, strengthened its appeal to the ' practical ' 
man — an epithet claimed then, as now, by the majority of stupid 
and unpractical people. The personal influence and enthusiasm 
of its author no doubt helped also towards the phenomenal success 
of this work, which for two hundred years held a position without 
rival as the text-book of the medical schools of Italy, where even 
as late as the sixteenth century Mondino ' was still worshipped by 
all the students as a very god'.^ 

1 An intermediate anatomist was Gulielmo Varignana, who was professor of 
Medicine in Bologna, and is recorded as having opened for judicial purposes, on 
February 15, 1302, the corpse of one alleged to have been poisoned. See Michele 
Medici, op. cit. The investigation is referred to above. 

'^ Dr. Craigie in his excellent account of the History of Anatomy, in the ninth 
and subsequent editions of the Encyclopaedia Britannica. 

2 ' Mundinus quern omnis studentium universitas colit ut deum ', J. Adelphus 
in his edition of Mondino, Strassburg, 1513. 


Mondino was succeeded in the chair of Surgery at Bologna by 
his pupil, the Lombard Bertuccio, who died in the Black Death of 
1347. Bertuccio's surviving work is unnoteworthy, but he was 
the anatomical teacher of Guy de Chauliac, whose Surgery ^ is of 
great value and was very influential in standardizing practice, 
especially in the north and west of Europe. Nevertheless it 
appears to us that the anatomical section is the weakest part of 
Guy's great work. The teleology that is a blot in Mondino has here 
become a perfect plague, and Guy's anatomy consists of one-third 
description and two-thirds wearisomely reiterated reasons for the 
existence of imperfectly described structures. Through Guy de 
Chauliac the anatomical tradition of Mondino passed over into the 
University of Montpellier. 

A later fourteenth-century Bolognese writer was Tommaso di 
Garbo (died 1370), who did little but comment on Avicenna. A 
surgeon of the next generation, however, Pietro d'Argellata, 
deserves to be remembered for his description of the examination 
of the body of Pope Alexander V, who died suddenly at Bologna on 
May 4, 1410. His account throws light on the customary pro- 
cedure and may be rendered here.^ 

' I ordered the attendants ', he says, ' first to cut the abdomen 
from the pomegranate [i. e. the Adam's apple or larjmgeal carti- 
lage ^] to the OS pectinis [i. e. the symphysis pubis]. Then, so that 
they should not rupture the intestines, I myself sought the rectum 
and ligatured it in two places and then cut it between. Next I 
removed all the intestines as far as the duodenum and dealt with 
them as with the rectum, and so I had the intestines clean and 
without fetor. After this I extracted the liver, seizing its liga- 
ments ; then the spleen and then the kidneys, and these were all 
placed together in a jar. I now passed to the spiritual members 
[i. e. the thorax] and removed lung and heart and all their liga- 
ments. Then I ligatured the meri [the Arabian term for oeso- 
phagus] and removed the stomach. When this had been done 
there were some who wished to remove the tongue but knew not 
how. I however cut imder the chin and extracted the tongue 

1 Editio princeps, Lyons, 1478. 

2 Pietro de Argellata, Cirurgia, ' Incipit liber primus cirurgie magistri Petri 
de la Cerlata ' (!), Venice, 1492. Quotation from lib. v, tract. 12, chap. 3. An 
earlier edition which we have not seen was printed in Venice in 1480. 

3 The ' pomegranate ' sometimes also means the xiphisternum. It is not 
clear which is implied here. 


through that hole, together with trachea arteria [trachea] and meri. 
Then I passed to the arteria adorti [aorta] and vena chilis [vena 
cava]. Lastly I removed the ligatured remnant of the intestines 
as far as the anal margin.' 

Giovanni da Concoreggio (died 1438), who was lector in Surgery 
at Bologna in the early part of the fifteenth century, left a few 
anatomical observations of little note,^ and not very much more can 
be said for his successors and Manfredi's contemporaries Gabriele 
Gerbi (de Zerbis, died 1505) and Alessandro Achillini (1463-1512). 
Gerbi^ does little but repeat in the most verbose fashion the 
work of Mondino and of Avicenna, some of whose errors, how- 
ever — e. g. the three ventricles of the heart — he omits. He wrote 
also an anatomy of the infant, or rather of the foetus,* and a 
treatise taken mainly from Avicenna' s De generatione embryonis. 
Like all his work, these are in the full scholastic style of a professor 
of Logic, a position to which, in fact, he ultimately attained. 

AchiUini's work * is but a slight advance on that of Gerbi. It is 
really little else than a note-book for students, and gives the baldest 
directions for dissection, accompanied by a few comments taken 
from Avicenna. Achillini occasionally ventures to criticize Mon- 
dino, and his work has at least the advantage of brevity. He has 
a claim to be remembered in that he was the first to describe the 
duct of Wharton and is said to have been the first to describe 
the ear ossicles, malleus and incus. AchUlini, like Gerbi, was 
a windy and very ' scholastic ' disputator. He was best known 
to his contemporaries as a supporter of the philosophy of 
Averroes. Li 1506, when driven from Bologna with the other 
supporters of Bentivoglio, he became professor of Philosophy at 

With Giacomo Berengario da Carpi we come at length to 
one who definitely advanced the science, and who may be regarded 
as the first modern anatomist, so far as printed works are con- 
cerned. He was professor of Surgery from 1502 to 1527, and during 

1 Giovanni da Concoreggio, Lucidarium et Flos Medicinae, Giunta, Florence, 
1521. It contains a few scattered anatomical points. 

2 De Zerbis, Liber Anatomiae, corporis humani et singulorum membrorum illius, 
Venice, 1502. 

* Reprinted in the Anatomia of Johannes Dryander, Marburg, 1537. 

* Alessandro Achillini, Annotationes anatomiae, Bologna, 1520. This work is 
also included in the 1502 edition of De Zerbis' Liber Anatomiae. 


that period published his great anatomical work.^ This volume, 
though modestly put forward as a commentary on Mondmo, is m 
reality an original contribution of great value. It is the earliest 
anatomical treatise that can properly be described as havmg figures 
illustrating the text (Fig. 8).^ Carpi does not hesitate to criticize 
the work on which he comments— as for instance when he denies 

From Berengar of Carpi's Commentary on Mondino, Bologna, 1521. 

the existence of the 'rete mirabile' below the brain, though 
descriptions of the ' rete mirabUe ' had been based on the statement 

^ Carpi commentaria cum amplissimis additionibus super anatomia mundini 
una cum textu eiusdem in pristinum et verum nitorem redacto, Bologna, 1521. An 
earlier and less important edition of Carpi was the Anathomia Mundini noviter 
impressa acper Carpum castigata that appeared at Bologna in 1514. 

* The figures in Ketham and in the wretched productions of Johannes Adelphus 
(J. A. Muelich), of Hundt, and of Peyligk can hardly be said to illustrate the text, 
of anatomical treatises. 

From a drawing in the Library, WINDSOR CASTLE 




i P 



1— i' 





I— -( 

£/) ■ 








of no less an authority than Galen. Furthermore he was the 
first to describe the vermiform appendix, and he gave the earliest 
correct accoimt of several other organs, e. g. the choroid plexus 
and the olfactory nerves. He was an industrious dissector, and 
he teUs us that he had examined more than a hundred bodies. 

With Carpi we close our series of Bolognese anatomists. Into 
that group we now proceed to fit the writer with whom we are here 
specially concerned, Hieronymo Manfredi. 

III. Hieronymo Manfredi 

Hieronymo Manfredi was a member of a family that had 
already for more than two centuries provided distinguished 
citizens, and especially physicians, to the city of Bologna.^ He 
was bom about the year 1430 and was educated at the University 
of Bologna, Here in 1455 he was laureatus in Philosophy and 
Medicine, and here he became professor of the latter subject in 

During the second half of the fifteenth century, a perfect 
mania for the study of astrology infected Italy and penetrated 
equally into the Court, the Church, and the Academy. The pro- 
fession of Medicine was far from immime, and at the University 
of Bologna, where a chair of Astrology had long been estabhshed,* 
the study was pvirsued with ardour and enthusiasm. Here Man- 
fredi early devoted himself to that will-o'-the-wisp, the pursuit 
of which absorbed and sterilized many of the best intellects of 
his day. By the year 1469 he was already regarded as an authority 
on the vainest of studies,* and as the years went on he seems to 
have devoted himself to it ever more and more. The generally 
credulous character of Manfredi' s astrological ideas may be 

1 Albano Sorbelli, Le Groniche Bolognesi del Secolo XIV, Bologna, 1900; 
La Signoria di Giovanni Visconti a Bologna, Bologna, 1901 ; Michele Medici, 
loc. cit., p. 4. 

2 Giovanni Fantuzzi, Notizie degli scrittori bolognesi, Tom. v, p. 196, Bologna, 

3 Hastings Eashdall, The Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages, 3 vols., 
Oxford, 1895, vol. i, p. 244. 

* He is mentioned in this capacity by Niccolo Burzio, Bononia illustrata, 
Bologna, 1494. We have been unable to consult this work, which is quoted by 
Fantuzzi, loc. cit. See also Ferdinando Gabotto, Bartolomeo Manfredi e I'Astro- 
logia alia Corte di Mantova, Torino, 1891, p. 19. 

1892 H 


gathered from the page of his Prognosticon ad annum 1479 which 
we here reproduce (Fig. 10). 

The history of Manfredi's connexion with the University of 
Bologna may be briefly told. He appears for the first time on the 
professorial roll in 1462, when we find him giving the ' extraordinary ' 
lectures on Philosophy, a subject then regarded as under especial 
charge of the physicians. In 1465 he was conducting the 'ordi- 
nary' course in Philosophy, and at the same time giving occasional 
lectures on Medicine. In the following year he was called to the 
chair of Theoretical Medicine, and in 1469 he helped the Faculty 
out of a difficulty by giving lectures on ' Astronomia ' in place of 
the aged professor Giovanni de Fundis. The latter died in 1474, 
and from that date onward Manfredi assumed responsibility for 
the course on 'Astronomia'. Among the colleagues who joined 
him were Gabriele de Gerbi, who became lecturer on Logic in 1476, 
FiHppo Beroaldo, who became lecturer on Rhetoric and Poetry in 
1479, and Alessandro Achillini, who became lecturer on Logic in 

Such was the regard for Manfredi's powers of astrological 
prediction that to aU the University announcements of his course 
of lectures on Astronomy is added ' cum hoc quod f aciat indicium 
et tachuinum '.^ In spite of his proficiency in the science, however, 
he was unable to foretell his own death. Giovanni Pico della 
Mtrandola writes of him thus derisively : 

' quo anno [1493] obiit omnimoda[m] uite incolumitate[m] 
fuerat pollicitus Hieronymus manfredus astrologus nostra aetate 
singularis : a quo tamen nihil mirandum minus praeuisam aliorum 
mortem : qui nee suam ipse praeuiderit : nam cum proxima 
estate uita sit functus : in istius tame[n] anni publico uaticinio 
qui s[cilicet] ei fuit fatalis : multa & mira sequent! anno dicturum 
se non semel poUicebatur. Qui nescio oppignoratam fidem quo- 
modo reluet : nisi forte de caelo uerius nunc terrena despiciat 
q[uam] de terra oli[m] caelestia suspiciebat.' ^ 

Manfredi died in 1493 and was buried in the church of Santa 

1 Manfredi's University career is extracted from Umberto Dallari, / rotuli dei 
lettori legisti e artisti delh studio bolognese dal 1384 al 1799, Bologna, vol. i, 1888, 
and Luigi Nardi and Emilio Orioli, Chartularium Stvdii Bononiensis, Imola, vol. i, 
1907. 2 gee also P. A. Orlandi, Notizie degli scrittori bohgnesi, Bologna, 1714. 

^ Johannes Franciscus Picus Mirandula, Disputationes cidversus astrologos. 
Lib. ii, cap. 9, Bologna, 1495. Our quotation is from the original 1495 edition, 
not from the slightly variant edition contrefaite. 


Margarita in Bologna, This church no longer exists, but it con- 
tained in the eighteenth century a tomb bearing the inscription : 








Manfredi left a widow, Anna, who was still living in 1496 with 
a household of ten persons in the Via S. Margarita.^ The houses on 
one side of this street backed on the very walls of the buildings 
belonging to the ' University of Medicine ' ,^ and we may suppose that 
Hieronymo Manfredi had resided here on that account. His sur- 
viving son, Giovanni, lived hard by in the Via S. Antonio di Padoa. 

It cannot be said that Manfredi' s printed works suggest great 
scientific attainments. All are permeated by the same astrological 
obsession. They comprise the following : 

(a) The editio princeps of Ptolemy's CosmograpMa and 
Tabulae Cosmographiae, the best-known printed work to which 
Manfredi' s name is attached. He was associated in its production 
with the famous scholar Filippo Beroaldo, and the finely produced 
volume was published at Bologna in 1472 (?),* and dedicated to 
the memory of Pope Alexander V (died 1410). It is interesting 
as containing the first printed map of England (Fig. 9). At the 
end of the work we read : 

' Accedit mirifica imprimendi tales tabulas ratio. Cuius inuen- 
toris laus nihil Ulorum laude inferior. Qui primi l[itte]rarum 

1 G. Fantuzzi, loc. cit., p. 197. 

2 U. Santini, ' Cenni statistic! sulla Popolazione del Quartiere di S. Proclo in 
Bologna ', in Atti e Memorie della B. Deputazione di Storia Patria per le Provincie 
di Bomagna, series 3, vol. xxxiv, pp. 366 and 367, Bologna, 1906. 

* See map of the old University buildings of Bologna prefixed to Francesco 
Cavazza, Le Scuole delV antico studio bolognese, MUan, 1896. 

* The date 1462, clearly printed on this edition, is certainly erroneous, since 
there was no printing-press at Bologna till 1471. A. E. Nordenskiold {Facsimile 
Atlas till Kartografiens aldesta Historia, Stockholm, 1889, p. 12) consider that 
1472 is the true date, but the point is not yet finally settled. See J. A. J. de 
Villiers, ' Famous Maps in the British Museum', in Geographical Journal, vol. liv, 
London, August 1914, p. 173. Albano Sorbelli, in his authoritative / Primordi 
della Stampa in Bologna, Bologna, 1908, ddes not mention Manfredi's edition of 
Ptolemy among the earhest printed Bolognese works (1471-5). 

















imprimendarum artem pepererunt in admirationem sui studio- 
sissimum quemque facillime conuertere potest. Opus utrumque 
summa adhibita diligentia duo Astrologiae peritissimi casti- 
gaueru[n]t Hieronimus Mamfredus & Petrus bonus. Nee minus 
curiose correxerunt summa eruditione prediti Galeottus Martius 
& Colla montanus. Extremam emendationis manum imposuit 
philippus b[e]roaldus.' 

(6) Liber de homine : cuius su[n]t libri duo. Primus liber de 
conservatione sanitatis. . . . [Liber secundus de causis in homine 
circa compositione[m] eius], Bologna, 1474. The work is in 
Italian, and consists of a number of paragraphs, each beginning 
with the word ' perche '. There is a servile dedicatory epistle 
in Latin addressed to Giovanni Bentivoglio. The first book is 
concerned with diet, and occupies two-thirds of the volume. The 
second book answers questions on the subject of physiognomy 
and bears resemblance in many passages to the Anatomy. It is 
taken in the main from the pseudo- Aristotelian Problemata. The 
book is without pagination or figures. It is weU printed, and 
illuminated examples are not infrequently encountered. 

This work was very popular. In 1478, during the lifetime of 
its author, it was audaciously pirated at Naples with the follow- 
ing incipit : ' Incomenza el Libro chiamato della uita costumi 
natura & om[n]e altra cosa pertine[n]te tanto alia conservatione 
della sanita deUomo quanto alle cause et cose humane. Co[m]- 
posto per Alberto Magno filosofo exceUentissimo.' 

In 1497, after Manfredi's death, the work appeared in black- 
letter foho at Bologna, with its author's original dedication slightly 
altered. The text in this edition commences, ' Perchel sophio nele 
cose che noi viuemo : & lo indebito modo del viuere nostro : 
induce in noi egritudine '. 

In 1507 it appeared at Venice in small black-letter quarto 
as Opera noua intitulata II perche utilissima ad intendere la 
cagione de molte cose. By this title, II PercM, the work, which 
ran through numerous editions, has usually been known. It 
continued to be reprinted as late as 1668. 

(c) A treatise on the Plague : Tractato degno <fc utile de la 
pestile[n]tia co[m]posto p[er] el famosissimo philosopho medico & 
astrologo maestro Hieronymo di manfredi da Bologna, Bologna, 
1478. This was translated into Latin by the author himself in 
the same year. The work owes much to Avicenna, but contains 


some original clinical observations, and shows a certain inde- 
pendence of the prevaihng spkit of the age by quoting opinions 
of contemporary as weU as of ancient physicians. The remedies 

vL m^i^ coPTA mrm 

T^ \ Segno apparfo in cielo Ifopra Goflancino 

^\\7f^ pohlanno .M. cccc. Ixxviii-adi.xyde 

"^ \ \ ^ Nouenbrio de grandiffiwa longecia 

\ \ \ v\ con tre ftelle negre e due lune e la 

\\\\. \ era de Color rofTo cicefanguino 

^ . ^\\ \ laltra aprcfTo erabianchaE la 

fl ■ v r~^ fine dela Cometa era roffa el 

.r - \(^ V \ fudrizaa MiferCarlomar 
qual lego NM\\ \ \ . , r 

..j /^ n.- \ V\ \ \ tinopoU ahrcnza 1 zorni 
tehdaColta \\^A \ lj r c u 

c, ■ 1 f ^ \\ \ \ Dida luo tratellocioe 
.xxxx.aiiolcb V v\ \\ n r-> 1 

Tin r rr L^^\\\\ tilta Cauakrmacrni 
Miler -^oaneba \ \ \ \ \ , 9 

f- jDj-r ^\\\\ uandomecon lua 
fico de Kodi 1 ro \ \ \ \ \ i .. 

K- c . ■ \^ ^ ^ \ corneto* 
Magnihcencia in \ \ /Cri^C^rrs, n r ■ 

deUecembrede tuto \ ^^ ^^ /Mv a i-vp 

quello ludiciouepare \\yOL_A\ i t, 

Nci be ne credemo pur \ V/?Y\^ , - ." 

faechiconfideralajnrande v//\\\\\ ^ ,. 

del lummo Uio ueramcnte //^ ^ ^ \ \ \/i 

^ :ra Co noi perche el fe uede / / \ A ^ \ Vt/ " ^ 

auer tatto molte mazov co ^Oi \ 'O'J^^ ^ 


Fig. 10. The last page of Manfredi's Prognosticon ad annum 1479, Bologna, 1478. 

are similar to those recommended by John of Bourdeaux in his 
widely distributed tract on the plague, and are probably derived 
ultimately from the Regimen Sanitatis Salerni. 

(d) Prognosticon ad annum J479, Bologna, 1478. We repro- 
duce the terminal page of this work (Fig. 10). 

(e) Prognosticon anni 1481, in which is embodied Oratio contra 
turcos & hostes Christianorum, s. 1. Jan. 1481. 

From his tomb in the Church of S. Giacomo Maggiore at Bologna 



















j£ < > 

l-H C^ X 

< ^ 







I— ( 


















c ^ X 





(/) Centilogium de medicis et infirmis, Bologna, 1488. With a 
dedication to Bentivoglio. This short work is wholly astrological, 
and consists of one hundred precepts concerning the relationship 
of the stars to various diseases and conditions. Reprinted Venice, 
1500, and Nuremberg, 1530. 

The following three works are attributed to Manf redi, but are not 
mentioned in Hain, Copinger, or Reichling's lists of Incunabula; 
we have not seen any of them and their existence is doubtful. 

(g) Ephemerides astrologicae operationes medicas spectantes, 
mentioned in the Biographisches Lexikon der hervorragenden 
Aerzte of E. Gurlt and A. Hirsch. Possibly it represents another 
edition of (e). 

{h) Quaestiones subtilissimae super lihrum aphorismorum, 
Bologna, 1480 (?), mentioned by Haller.^ Possibly it represents 
another edition of (6). 

(i) Chiromantia secundum naturae vires ad extra, Padua, 1484, 
mentioned by Haller.^ 

IV. The Manuscript Anatomy of Manfredi 

The MS. of Manfredi' s Anatomy is in the Bodleian Library 
at Oxford (Canon. Ital. 237, Western 20287). It is a fairly pre- 
served smaU quarto parchment, originally of forty-nine folios, of 
which the third and fourth are missing. The writing is in the fine 
ItaHan hand that the printed type of the period was accustomed 
to imitate. There are no figures or illuminations, but the titles 
are rubricated in burnished gold or in colours. 

There is no reference to this work in any account of Manfredi, 
and the volume itself appears to be quite unknown. Neither the 
man nor his work is mentioned in Medici's detailed history of 
the anatomical school at Bologna ^ nor in Martinotti's recent 
study on the same topic,* nor is any MS. of Manfredi included in 
Mazzatinti's monumental catalogue of the MSS. in the Italian 

1 Albrecht von Haller, Bibliotheca anatomica, Zurich, 1774^7, vol. ii, p. 738. 

2 Michele Medici, Compendia storico della Scuola anatomica di Bologna dal Bina- 
scim^nto delle Scienze e delle Lettere a tutto il Secolo XVIII, Bologna, 1857, folio. 

8 G. Martinotti, ' L'insegnamento dell' anatomia in Bologna prima del secolo 
XIX ', in Stvdi e Memorie per la Storia dell' Universitd di Bologna, vol. ii, Bologna, 


* Mazzatinti, Inventari dei Manoscritti delle Biblioteche d' Italia, Forli & Firenze, 
1890-1915, vols, i to xxiii, in progress. 


Manfredi's MS. is written in the involved Italian of the day, 
with sentences of inordinate length. These general characters of 
style are encountered also in his pubUshed works. The dedica- 
tion is in Latin, of the same unpleasing quality, and is couched 
in the usual subservient manner. It is addressed to Giovanni 
BentivogUo, and in it Manfredi relates that 

' Your illustrious lordship Johannes Bentivolus in this present 
year 1490 with yowc usual humanity condescended on one occasion 
to watch the dissection of a corpse. ... It was then that you saw 
the wonderful works of Nature in. the anatomy . . . and you 
parentally urged me, Hieronymo Manfredi, to inscribe to your 
most noble name this work on anatomy. ... I therefore extracted 
this work as best I might from various works of antiquity and 
abbreviated it. I have not followed their order, but I have so 
composed it that the work should be pleasing to your lordship, 

' Accept then, O great and powerful lord, this work on the 
anatomy of the human body inscribed to your noble name ! 
Accept it with your customary benevolence and humanity and in 
a kindly and gracious spirit, for it wUl be pleasing to you and 
wUl delight you greatly, for it is a worthy work ! ' 

The Giovanni Bentivoglio (Plate xxxvn), with adulation of 
whom Manfredi was thus accustomed to plaster his works, was 
the second of the name and was the son of Annibale Benti- 
voglio. In the year 1462 he became head of the republic of Bologna, 
and played there much the same r6le as did Lorenzo de' Medici 
at Florence. He adorned Bologna with numerous buildings,^ 
and acted as patron of the arts and the sciences. The Palazzo 
dei Bentivogli still stands as a memorial to him and his family. 
A stern and high-handed tyrant, he held his position until 1506, 
when he was expelled and the city reverted to the papacy. He 
died two years later. 

It is remarkable to find a man of Bentivoglio's eminence and 
position taking an interest in the practical study of anatomy. 
Other Italian rulers, Lorenzo de' Medici among them, encouraged 
and legalized the practice of dissection, but probably Bentivoglio 
is the only one recorded as having patronized an ' anatomy ' in 
person. The interest taken in the subject by the heads of states 
must have been of great value to the artists whose patrons they 

^ Lino Sighinolfi, L' Architettura Bentivolesca in Bologna e il Palazzo del Podestd, 
Bologna, 1909. 


The MS. is a unique copy, and was doubtless written for 
presentation to Bentivoglio. That it was never printed is perhaps 
due to the fact that Manfredi died within a comparatively short 
time of its composition. It represents the most satisfactory post- 
mediaeval account of the human frame until the appearance of 
the work of Berengario da Carpi in 1521. It is more complete 
than the work of William of SaHceto or of Mondino or the anatomy 
erroneously attributed to Richardus Anglicus ; it is more natural 
than the book of Gabriele de Gerbi, and is far superior to the 
crude contemporary sketches of Hundt, Peyligk, and AchUlini, 
while it wastes less space than Guy de Chauliac on teleology, 
though it has none of the charm of the work of that great surgeon. 
In one respect at least, viz. the spirit in which it is written, Man- 
fredi' s Anatomy is original and probably unique for its age. There 
is no reason to doubt the assurance of the dedication that it was 
composed for the edification of the tyrant of Bologna, and for the 
simple purpose of setting forth the wonderful structure of man's 
body without thought of any medical application. 

The sources of the MS. are obvious. It is in the main a re- 
arranged and on the whole improved Mondino, but amplified by 
reference to translations from Galen, Rhazes, Haly Abbas, and 
Avicenna. Guy de Chauliac has perhaps also been used. The 
work gives a general impression of being the product of a practical 
dissector, and it provides us with a good example of early Renais- 
sance anatomy as taught in the Italian schools before the reforms 
of Vesalius. It is perhaps the first complete treatise on its subject 
written originally in the vernacular.^ It exhibits, however, no 
other original features nor any considerable departures from its 
sources, and it may be taken to represent, with but little modifica- 
tion, the tradition of Mondino as developed at his own University 
of Bologna at the end of the fifteenth century. 

Manfredi's work, however, if not original is at least eclectic, 
and the variety of its sources indicates a dawning consciousness 
of the unwisdom of trusting to the infallibility of any one writer. 
The work is thus in a sense intermediate between the early printed 
versions of Mondino, such as that of 1478, and the edition 

1 Several short sketches or tractates on anatomy in the vernacular are 
however known. Thus a Proven9al anatomical tractate of the thirteenth century 
has been published by K. Sudhoff in his Beitrag zur Gesch. der Anatomie im 
Mittdalter, Leipzig, 1908. 


published in. 1528 by Berengario da Carpi with its frank com- 
mentary of the master. AU represent stages towards the freedom 
of the later Renaissance investigators. 

We reproduce the text in full, and the passages on the head, 
on the eye, and on the heart, are rendered into English. AU are 
simUar to the accounts of Mondino. We are able to illustrate 
them by figures from contempprary works, and thus to give an 
idea of the limits of the anatomical knowledge of the day. 

V. Translation of Selected Passages from the Anatomy, 

WITH Commentary 

Tractate i, Chapter 2 

(folio 5 verso) There are ten layers of the head. 

The first is the hair made by nature for the better protection 
of the head from external things, and also for beauty. 

The second part is the skin, which has here to be very thick, 
so that the hair may be firmly embedded, having its roots thick 
and long ; and also to be a better shield and covering for the 
bone and brain, suace there is no muscular part here. 

The third part is the flesh, developed only on the face, the 
temples, and about the jaws, not on the other parts. 

The fourth part is an external membrane called almochatim 
[Arabian term for cranial periosteum] which, when the skin is 
raised, appears to be continuous and covers the whole cranium. 
And nature made this membrane firstly so that the skin which 
is soft should not come into contact with the hard bone, secondly 
that the bone of the head should have sensation through it, and 
thirdly that the internal membrane of the head, called dura mater, 
should, by means of this membrane, be attached to the bone 
of the cranium by certain nerves and ligaments. These, issuing 
through the commissures of the bones, have thus their origin in 
the aforesaid internal membrane, while on emerging through the 
bone, they weave themselves into or rather compose the external 
membrane called almochatim. 

The fifth part is the skull. This is a bone like a cap, inside 
the cavity of which is located the brain. In the skull are four 
bones sutured together. Nature made the skull not of one but 
of many pieces, firstly, so that if harm should fall on one part it 


might not spread to the others ; secondly, so that by their joints 
or rather sutures [Italian cii^iture= sewings], the humours of the 
brain might be the better exhaled ; and thirdly, so that when there 
is need of applying medicines, these might the better penetrate 
to the parts within. 

Hence it is that four pieces of bone are sutured and joined 
together by nature in a denticulate fashion, so that they might 
be the firmer and stronger. Nor are they bound with ligaments 
as are the joints, for these would not have been so strong, and 
furthermore the bones of the head do not need to move. 

These sutures are five in number, three being true and two 
false. The true sutures are those which pass right through the 
bone, while the false do not. Of the true sutures one is in the 
anterior part and is called coronal ; it is made like the letter C, 
and stretches from right to left of the head, the two wings of the 
C being directed towards the forehead. The second true suture 
extends along the length of the head, beginning from the coronal 
and reaching the back part of the head. It is like a shaft or rather 
arrow that goes backwards from the brow, wherefore it is called 

sagittal Q . The third true suture is in the posterior part 

and is called laudal, for it is made like a A, the letter called by 
the Greeks lauda. The sagittal suture extends from the coronal 
to the lauda ) Q . 

The false sutures are two, one on each side. They are called 
cortical because they do not penetrate. 

Now if we consider these five sutures we shall see that there 
are four bones articulated together. One is the forehead bone 
[frontal] which begins at the coronal and ends below at another 
suture, which itself begins as a branch of the coronal suture and 
proceeds by way of the eyebrow to the corresponding branch [of 
the other side] 0. 

A second bone is behind and terminates at the laudal suture. 
There are two other bones which form the temples. These termi- 
nate at the false sutures which themselves begin at the laudal 
and end at the coronal suture. 

The sixth part [of the head] consists of two membranes. One 
of these is called dura mater, and lies in contact with the cranium. 
The other is called pia mater and is in contact with and covers 
the brain. And nature contrived it thus, having great solicitude 
for this latter member, that while close to the bone, it should 


yet not be touched by it. Wherefore, taking due precautions, 
she made the one [membrane] harder than the other. Further- 
more she made two membranes, so that if harm befell one of 
them, it might not be communicated to the underlying brain. 

In the pia mater are woven certain veins by which the brain 
is nourished. [The brain is] everywhere covered by it except 
on the posterior part; because this part being dry, it has no 
need of this membrane, as have the anterior and middle parts. 
The two membranes in many places penetrate the substance of 
the brain, dividing it into a right and a left, a front and a back 
section. By this division, divers cells or rather small chambers 
are mad ) therein, in which the soul {anima) performs its divers 
operations, for which reason it is necessary that these parts should 
be of different structure. 

When the two membranes are raised, the seventh part of the 
head, namely the brain itself, appears. The brain is wrought by 
nature so that the vital spirit from the torrid heart should be 
tempered by its cold, for here it is converted into animal spirit, 
which is the beginning of the perceptive {cognoscitiue) and motive 

The brain is of a substance like marrow, white, soft, and 
viscous, and from it the nerves arise. The anterior part is moister, 
softer, and less cold than the posterior because the senses [senti- 
menti = senses + mental processes], which are themselves moist and 
soft, have here their origin. In the posterior part the motor 
nerves arise, and it is therefore drier and firmer. 

The brain is divided into three parts or ventricles. The first 
ventricle or anterior part is itself divided into two, right and 
left, and is moreover larger than any of the other ventricles, for 
in this first ventricle nature has placed the two faculties sub- 
servient to perception {al cognoscere). One of these is called 
common sensation (senso comune) ; in it the external senses ter- 
minate as at a centre and deliver the images or rather species of 
sensible things, so that this faculty may perceive and distinguish 
between one sensible thing and another, and also comprehend the 
operations of particular senses ; which two things none of these 
[senses of themselves can do]. The other faculty of the first 
ventricle is called fantasia and by some imagination ; it retains 
and preserves the species of sensible things in the absence of the 
material objects themselves. 


When thou exammest the first ventricle thou wilt see three 
things before thou comest to the second ventricle. 

[a] The first is itself double, and is formed of the very sub- 
stance of the brain, so that it forms the base of the anterior ven- 
tricle both right and left [= corpora striata]. 

[6] To the side of this is another thing like a subterranean 
worm, red as blood, yet tethered by certain ligaments and nervelets 
[ = choroid plexus and taenia semicircularis]. And this worm when 
it lengthens itself closes these passages, and thus blocks the path 
between the first ventricle and the second. Nature has wrought 
it thus, so that when a man wills he may cease from cogitation 
and thought ; and similarly when, on the other hand, he would 
think and contemplate, this worm contracts itself again and 
opens these passages and thus frees the way between one ventricle 
and another. 

[c] The third structure is a little lower and is a lacuna or 
roTinded concavity [= infundibulum]. In the middle of this is 
a hole which passes down towards the palate, and this lacima 
provides also a direct passage which descends from the middle 
ventricle to its colature [=sieve-hke structure, i. e. certain parts 
of the sphenoid bone]. And this lacvma has around it certain 
large round eminences which support the veins and arteries that 
ascend to the ventricle. This passage is wide above and narrow 
below, and by it the first and second ventricles purge themselves 
of their superfluities, but the anterior part [of the first ventricle] 
purges itself more by the colature of the nose [= cribriform plate]. 
Thus nature has made two passages to cleanse the superfluities 
of the brain. 

When thou hast seen these three structures there will appear 
the second or middle ventricle which is as a passage and transit 
from the anterior to the posterior ventricle. Here are two facul- 
ties. One, the estimative, deduces [Itahan elicere] the insensible from 
the sensible. The other, called the cognitive, comprehends both 
things sensible and things insensible, synthesizing and analysing 
them (componendo e dividendo). These [two] faculties in the middle 
ventricle minister to the intellect. Now all the other faculties 
described, and even the power of memory, are foimd in brute 
animals, but this [intellectual power] is encoimtered in man alone. 

Now will appear the third ventricle in the posterior part ; 
and it is hard, for it gives rise to the greater part of the motive 


nerves which are of a strong and firm nature. This ventricle is 
pyramidal in shape, and culminates m an apex directed upwards 
where images of visible things (spetie) are conserved, for these 
are better stored in a strait than in an ample space ; but the part 
below is wide to receive these images, which are better received in 
an ample than in a strait place. This ventricle has two functions : 
it gives rise to the spmal cord [nucha, an Arabian term] and 
motor nerves ; and it is also the storehouse of the memorative 

From what [has been said] it will be apparent that when the 
back of the head is injured, the memory immediately suffers ; 
when the middle part is injured, the estimative and cognitive 
faculties suffer; and when the anterior part is injured, the 
faculties of common sensation and of imagination {fantasia) suffer. 
And thus it is that the doctors have become aware of the location 
of these powers. 

This being disposed of, thou wilt next raise the brain carefully 
so as not to break the nerves. Commencing now with the part 
in front, there will first appear two small fleshy protuberances 
hke two nipples, of like substance to the brain in which they 
originate, and covered by a thin membrane, the pia mater. These 
are the olfactory organs, wherein is the sense of smeU. 

From the brain arise seven pairs of nerves. Proceed there- 
fore farther with the anterior part, and thou wilt see the first 
pair of these nerves, which are large, and called the nervi optici. 
These have their origin in the front ventricle of the brain and 
proceed towards the eyes. But before they pass through the 
pia mater, they join together, and at their place of union there 
is a perforated spot. Galen maintains that these nerves only join 
or rather unite, but do not intersect, so that the nerve that comes 
from the right after union returns again towards the right, and 
similarly with the nerve coming from the left, which after the 
imion returns towards the left eye.^ But Rhazes maintains the 
contrary,^ although the opinion of Galen is the more common. 
These nerves are subservient to sight, and they are united so 
that the images of the things received by the two eyes and 
conveyed by the two nerves should return in unity ; so that one 
thing should not appear as two. 

^ Cf. Galen, Be usu partium corporis humani, Lib. x, chap. 12. 
2 Cf. Rhazes, Almansur, i. 4. 


After these two nerves, raise the brain towards its middle 
and thou wilt see another pair of nerves, thin and firm, which 
also go to the eyes, to give them voluntary movement, con- 
trolling certain muscles. 

Farther on thou wilt see the third pair of nerves, one part of 
which goes to the face to give it sensation and voluntary move- 
ment, while another part goes to give taste to the tongue. Yet 
a third part of these nerves mingles with the fourth ^ pair of nerves, 
and together they descend to give sensation to the diaphragm, 
stomach, and other viscera. A certain part also of the fourth^ 
pair of nerves goes to give sensation to the palate. 

Then there is the fifth pair of nerves [which] go to the petrous 
bone around the ear ; and of these nerves there are framed in 
the ear-holes certain membranes, which are the organs of hearing. 

Next there is the sixth pair of nerves, which divides into three 
parts. One part goes to the muscles of the throat, the second 
to the muscles of the shoulders, and the third and largest descends 
to the epiglottis and to the diaphragm, and spreads into the 
chest, the heart, and the lungs, accompanying the nerves of the 
third pair. From the nerves of this sixth pair which go to 
the epiglottis arise the nerves of the voice, called reversive. 

The seventh pair of nerves arise at the back of the brain and 
give voluntary movement to the tongue. 

Of these seven pairs of nerves, the first two pairs originate 
in the anterior part of the brain, the third pair origiaates between 
the anterior and posterior parts, while the remaining four pairs 
originate in the posterior part. 

Proceeding still farther, the brain may be completely raised, 
and the eighth part of the head will appear, that is, the two mem- 
branes situated below the brain. When these in turn are raised 
there will appear the ninth part, which is a certain net called 
rethe mirabile, because it is composed of exceedingly strong and 
marvellous texture, augmented by certain very fine arteries 
which are branches of arteries that ascend from the heart, and 
are called the apoplectic arteries. In these arteries of this net is 
contained the vital spirit, sent from the heart to be changed to 
animal spirit. That the spirit may be the better modified and 
distributed, nature made these arteries very fine, and separated 

1 Manfredi here follows Mondino, who confuses Galen's fourth pair with 
Galen's sixth pair of nerves. 






them into very small branches so that the spirit should be minutely 
divided. Nature placed the rethe mirabile under the brain because 
it was necessary to guard its site carefully, and also that the 
moist vapours of the brain which fall upon the net, obstructmg 
it, should induce natural sleep. 

After all these things thou wilt see the basal bone which is 
the tenth and last part of the head, and called basilar, because 
it is the base and foimdation of the whole head ; and it was 
made hard so that the superfluities which descend to it should 
not putrefy it. This bone can be seen to be formed of many 
other bones articulated together. It is divisible into the petrous 
bones and the bones of the nose and eyes and two other lateral 
bones which can only be seen by means of disarticulation. [Folio 
10 verso, line 22.] 

The ten parts or layers of the head are a commonplace of the 
anatomy of the period, taken from Avicenna. We may illustrate 
the division by the crude contemporary diagram of Fig. 11, which 
is improved in the later drawing reproduced in Fig. 12. 

Manfredi's account of the brain itself is amplified from Mon- 
dino. The division of this organ into three ventricles, each 
associated with a corresponding division of the mental functions, 
was very familiar to medical writers of the fifteenth century. 
The idea is found among Western writers as early as St. Augustine 
(354-430), and is encountered in the writings of Roger Bacon 
(1214-94). It had long been popularized in mediaeval psychology 
by the writings of Albertus Magnus (1206-80). The anatomical 
distinction is found in Haly Abbas, Avicenna, and Rhazes, and 
in some of the best MSS. of the latter writer a rough diagram of 
the ventricles is given. ^ These writers are aU clearly indebted to 
the anatomy of Galen,^ but on the psychological side Albertus 
Magnus probably drew mainly either from Ghazah ' (1059- 
1111), who in turn derived his inspiration from Nemesius (fourth 
century) and Johannes Damascenus (died 756), or else from 

^ See P. de Koning, Trois Traites d' Anatomic arahes, Leyden, 1903, p. 47. 

^ See J. Wiberg, ' The Anatomy of the Brain in the Works of Galen and 'Ali 
'Abbas ; a comparative historical-anatomical study ', Janus, vol. xix, p. 17 and 
p. 84, Leyden, January and March, 1914. 

' See A. Schneider, 'Die Psychologic Alberts des Grossen', p. 160, in Beitrdge 
zur Oeschichte der Philosophie des Mittelalters, Band iv, Heft 5, Munich, 1903. 

1892 T 



[?■ Fig. 13. From Illustrissimi philosophi et theologi domini 
AJherti magni compendiosum insigne ac perutile opus Philoso- 
phiaenaturaliSyYeniee, 1496, showing the ventricles of the brain. 

early writers of the 
Salernitan tradition, 
such as Constan- 
tine ^ (eleventh cen- 
tury), or PetroceUo ^ 
(twelfth century), 
who drew largely on 
Theophilus (seventh 

This outline of 
a tripartite division 
of the brain and its 
cavities was closely 
followed throughout 
the Middle Ages, as 
was also the curi- 
ously naive and ex- 
cessively ' material- 
istic ' psychology to 
which it gave rise, 
and which Manfredi 
adopts. We illus- 
trate his views of 
the relationship of 
the different parts 
of the brain and 
their parallelism in 
mental processes, 
from a series of 
diagrams extracted 
from contemporary 
works (Figs. 13-18). 

The braua was 

^ Constantine Africanus, De communibus medico cognitu necessariis locis. 
Lib. iii, cap. 11, Edition Henricus Petrus, Basel, 1641. 

2 Practica Petrocelli Salernitani. Epistola. Quot annis latuit medicina. S. de 
Eenzi, Gollectio Salernitana, Naples, 1852-9, vol. iv, p. 189. 

* A very elaborate study of the doctrine of the three vesicles of the brain has 
recently been made by Walther SndhofE, 'Die Lehre von den Hirnventrikeln', in 
the Archivfiir Gesch. der ilfec?.,' Leipzig, 1914, vol. vii, p. 149. 


regarded by mediaeval and early Renaissance anatomists as 
having two channels of discharge through which the phlegm, 
the especial product of this organ, could be evacuated when in 
excess. One of these channels communicated with the anterior 
ventricle of the brain and poured its secretion into the nose. It 
may be identified with the anterior colature or cribriform plate. 
The second, the lacuna, led down from the second ventricle and 
poured its secretion into the pharynx. It may be identified with 
the infundibulum, pituitary body, and 'cella turcica'. The term 
' pituitary ' which we still use is derived from its supposed associa- 
tion with the ' pituita ' or phlegm. At an early date this process 
was connected with the four humours (Fig. 14). The rest of the 
description of the brain can be easily followed. The comparison 
of the choroid plexus to a worm is very common. The suggestion 
originated with Galen and was developed by the Arabians. 

Comparative Table of Ancient and Modern Nomenclature of Cranial 


Mondino and Manfredi following Galen, 

especially in the irepl xp^ias twv iv 

dvOpiairov <r<I)fuiTt fwpCiav. De USU par- 

tium corporis humani. 

Not regarded as separate nerves. 

Modern usage. 

I. OKactory nerves. 

I. TO. /jxxXaKo. vevpa tS>v o^OaXfjLuiv. 

II. Optic nerves. 

II. TOL Kimp-iKo. ru>v aLfi.(j> avrovs jji,vu)v. 

III. Oculomotor nerves. 

Not mentioned. 

IV. Trochlear nerves. 

III. TpiTT) (Tu^vyia. 
I V . Teraprrj av^vyia. 

Mondino and Manfredi confuse 
Galen's fourth pair and Galen's 
sixth pair. 

V. Trigeminal nerves. 

Not mentioned by 
Galen probably 

Manfredi. By 
united with II. 

VI. Abducent nerves. 


irefiTTTri OTJ^vyia. 

VII. Facial nerves. 
VIII. Auditory nerves. 


iKTrj av^vyia. 

IX. Glossopharyngeal nerves. 
■ X. Vagi. 
XI. Accessory nerves of Willis. 


ifiSofJLi] (Tv^vyia. 

XII. Hypoglossal nerves. 

I 2 

















fS ^ 





M s 


o .g 

-*^ '^ 


bD § 

.S Sh 


*\ ^ 

S S 

^^ ^ 



3 ta 





'S g 




5 § 






n; S 


The nomenclature of the cranial nerves adopted by Manfred! 
is taken from Mondino and is almost identical with that of Galen, 
whose classification is summarized above.^ Manfredi's description 
of Galen's fourth pair is confused and inadequate, but his account 
of Galen's sixth pair is an improvement upon Mondino. 

The 'rete mirabile ' is an interesting survival of Galenic 
anatomy. This structure is hardly present in man, but is developed 
in the lower animals, and especially in calves, upon whose bodies 
Galen worked. The father of physiology regarded the 'rete 
mirabile ' as the place where the psychic pneuma was elaborated.^ 
Galen's findings in the lower animals were assiduously transferred 
to the human body, to which his descriptions are much less 
applicable, while his views on the pneuma lasted in more or less 
misxmderstood form well into the seventeenth century. 

(6) THE EYE 
Tractate i, Chapter 3 

(folio 11 recto) The socket of the eye is not over-depressed, for 
it has to receive the images (spetie) of visible things. Nor does 
it project greatly, lest it should be liable to injury from exterior 
violence. For the eyes of man being very soft and susceptible, 
nature provided eyebrows as a shield above, and eyelids as pro- 
tectors in front, and made moreover the projections of the maxillae 
and the nose, so that the eyes should be guarded on every side. 
So great was the solicitude of nature for these members. 

Seven are the tunics of the eye and three its humours. Three 
front coatings join with three coatings at the back like six shields, 
the edges of every pair joining each to each, the outer being 
larger and containing the others. The seventh tunic is largest of 
all, and encloses the whole eye, and therefore it is called con- 
junctiva because it joins and surrounds the whole eye except the 
place where the pupil is, and that small part [is covered] by the 

1 See F. G. A. Stumpfl, Historia nervorum cerebralium ab antiquissimis tem- 
poribus usque ad Willisium nee non Vietissensium. Dissertatio iyiauguralis, Berlin, 
1841 ; C. Daremberg, CEuvres anatomiques, physiologiques et mMicales de Galien, 
Paris, 1854, p. 583, &c. ; G. Helmreich, TAAHNOY, irept xP«'«5 /^optwv, Leipzig, 1909 ; 
and Theodor Beck, 'Die Galenischen Hirnnerven in moderner Beleuchtung ', 
in Arch.fur Gesch. der Med., vol. iii, p. 110, Leipzig, 1910. 

^ Galen, De usu partium, ix. 4 ; De Hippocratis ^t Platonis decretis, vii. 3. 


cornea. Now this first tunic where it covers the outside part is 
seen to be white. 

The second tunic in its front part is called cornea because it 
resembles horn in its substance and colour ; and this covering is 
transparent, so that the images of visible things may penetrate 
through it. And it is also solid and large and composed of four 
membranes, so that being near external things it should not 
receive hurt. With this [corneal timic] is united posteriorly 
another tunic [the third] called sclerotic, i. e. hard. These two 
coverings have their origin in the membrane about the brain, 
that is in the dura mater, just as the first tunic arises from the 
membrane over the skull, called almochatim. 

The fourth tunic as to its front part is called uvea [because] it is 
like a seed of a black grape, and in its midst is a hole called the 
pupil. Nature made this tunic opaque so that the visual spirit 
should be conserved and not dissipated by the light outside. 
Moreover nature made the opening in the tunic that the image 
might penetrate freely ; whUe it is narrow, so that the visual 
spirit should be concentrated. Thus when the said pupil, or 
rather hole, dilates more than usual, either naturally or accident- 
ally, the sight becomes imperfect. [The uveal tunic] joins pos- 
teriorly the fifth tunic, called secundina because it is made like 
the after-birth, i. e. the membrane in which the chUd is enveloped 
in its mother's womb, and it arises from the pia mater. 

The sixth coating in front is called arachnoid because it is 
formed after the manner of a spider's web, and posteriorly it joins 
the seventh coating, called retina, because it is made like a net. 

Between the uvea and the arachnoid anteriorly there is a 
humour called albugineus, like the white of an egg, to moisten 
the eye and to preserve the convexity of the cornea. In a dead 
man this humour dries up, and the cornea falls and is flattened, 
and then the vTilgar say that there appears a curtain before the 
eyes which is an infallible sign of death. Also this humour holds 
the pupil open ; therefore when it dries up the pupil contracts. 

Between the two last tunics, i. e, the arachnoid and the retina, 
which have their origin from the optic nerve, there are two humours. 
These are the vitreous humour, so called from its likeness to 
liqiiified glass, and the crystalline humour, from its Ukeness to 
a crystal. This is also called the grandid, because it is like 
a hailstone ; and it is somewhat hard and round, but flattened 


anteriorly where it receives the images of -visible things, and 
posteriorly pyramidal shape and pointed. And here is completed 
the act of seeing. In the posterior part it is surrounded by the 
vitreous humours by which it is nourished. The crystalhne 


From G. Reisch, Margarita pMlosophiae, Leipzig, ? 1503. Showing the seven tunics and 

three humours of the eye according to the doctrines of Renaissance anatomists.' 

humour is convex anteriorly and the vitreous posteriorly. And 
the optic nerves come to the eyes and convey the images seen 
by the eyes to [the seat of] common sensation and to the other 
internal faculties. [Folio 12 verso, line 7.] 

A great deal of attention was paid by the Arabians to the 
diseases and the structure of the eye, and the essentials of Man- 
fred!' s description are to be found in Rhazes, Hunain ben Ishak, 

1 The first edition of the work appeared in 1496. 


and Haly Abbas. The tradition presented by these writers 
passed early into Western science, and is reproduced, for example, 
in the works of Constantine Africanus and in the well-known 
anatomy to which the name of Richardus Anglicus (Richard of 
Wendover) has become attached ^ (cp. Fig. 19). Avicenna's 
description of the eye is somewhat different, and gave rise to the 
tradition reproduced in the works of John of Peckham and of Roger 
Bacon (Plate xxxviiia), and it in- 
fluenced the views of Leonardo and even 
perhaps of VesaUus (Fig. 20). The views 
on the anatomy of the eye expressed by 
Rhazes, Hunam ben Ishak, and Haly 
Abbas were, on the whole, more widely 
accepted than those of Avicenna. 

The treatment of the eye was always 
felt to be hardly within the range of 
the ordinary practitioner of surgery, and 
its structure, as we learn from Guy de 
Chauliac,^ was not usually treated in the 
general course of anatomy. The cus- 
tom was rather to refer the student to 
special works such as those of Jesu Aly 
or of Alcoatim. 

Manfredi's description of the ana- 
tomy of the eye is that generally 
accepted at the end of the fifteenth and 
the beginning of the sixteenth centuries, 
and is unusually clear for its date. It 
represents a considerable advance on 
such writers as Henri de Mondeville 
(1260-1320)^ or the pseudo Richardus 
Anglicus, and is far superior to the descriptions of the eye dating 
from the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries recently brought to fight 

1 The so-called Anatomia Bichardi Anglici, which has been printed by Robert 
Ritter von Toply (Vienna, 1902), is really the same as the pseudo-Galenic Anatomia 
vivorum, to which Richard's name was not attached until the fourteenth century. 
See ChristophFerckel, Archivfiir die Gesch. der Naturmssenschaften und der Technik, 
vol. vi, p. 78, Leipzig, 1912, and K. Sudhoff, Archivfiir Oesch. der Medizin, vol. viii, 
p. 71, Leipzig, 1915. 

2 E. Nicaise, La Grande Chirurgie de Guy de Chauliac, p. 45, Paris, 1890. 

3 J. Pagel, Die Anatomie des Heinrich von MondeviUe, Berlin, 1889, p. 37. 

Fig. 20. 
From Vesalius, De humani cor- 
poris fabrica, Basel, 1543, p. 643. 
A, Crystalline humour ; o, Albu- 
gineous humour ; c, Vitreous hu- 
mour ; N, Cornea ; Q, Conjvmctiva ; 
M, Sclerotica; G, Secundina; h. 
Uvea; k, Arachnoidea; e, Retina. 


by Sudhoff.^ We reproduce as illustrating Manfredi a diagram 
taken from the Margarita pMlosophica of Gregorius Reisch (died 
1525). This represents the earliest printed figure of any value 
of the anatomy of the eye (Fig. 19).^ We give for comparison 
the figure from a thirteenth-century MS. of Roger Bacon (Plate 
XXXVIII a), representing the rival tradition of Avicenna and 
Alhazen that influenced Leonardo da Vinci and other con- 
temporaries of Manfredi. These figures may be compared with 
that of Vesalius (1543, Fig. 20), whose description of the eye is less 
free from traditional bias than are most parts of his epoch-making 

In reading any early description of the eye, it is to be remem- 
bered that until the nineteenth century the ' emanation theory ' 
prevailed. Light was regarded as of the nature of a stream of 
particles emitted from the object seen, and the act of vision was 
considered as a collision of this emanation with an emission of 
something from the eye itself, called in mediaeval writings the 
' visual spirit '. 


Tractate ii. Chapter 3 

(folio 19 verso) Then you will see in the midst of the lung the 
heart, covered by its membranes. [It is thus situated] that the air 
attracted by this lung should cool it, and that thus the heat and 
spirit of the heart be tempered. This member is the most important 
of the four [principal members], because it is the first to live and the 
last to die. It is of medium size compared with the other members 
of man, but compared with the hearts of other animals it is very 
large, because man, in a quantitative and not an intensive sense, 
has more natural heat than other animals. It is pyramidal, that 
is in the form of a flame ; because it is of excellent warmth, 

^ For the whole question of early figures of the eye consult K. SudhofE, ' Augen- 
anatomiebilder im 15. und 16. Jahrhundert' in his Illustrationen medizinischer 
Handschriften und Friihdrucke, Leipzig, 1907 ; and the same writer's recent article 
on ' Augendurchschnittsbilder aus Abendland und Morgenland' in Archivfiir Gesch. 
der Medizin, vol. viii, p. I, Leipzig, 1915. 

2 Our figure from the Margarita philosophiae. has been taken from the 1503 
edition, the earliest to which we have had access. A figure in the Philosophiae 
naturalis compendium of K. Peyligk, dated Leipzig, 1489, is so inferior as to 
be negligible in this connexion. 


therefore it is necessary that it should be of a shape resembUng 
a flame. Its figure is also called ' pine-shaped ', because it is 
wide below and narrow above, being thus formed that distinction 
could better be made between its cavities or ventricles ; moreover, 
had it been made of a shape all uniform as is the lower part, it 
would be too heavy and ponderous. 

This member is situated in the middle of the entire body, 
measured in every direction ; that is, in the middle between the 
upper and lower parts : in the middle also between front and back 
and right and left, like a king standing in the midst of his kingdom, 
and this was done that it might give the strength of life equally 
to all the members ; and although the heart as regards its founda- 
tion and base be in the middle, yet its point declines to the left 
below the left breast, so that it warms the left side as the liver 
warms the right. 

This member is sustained and strengthened by a certain 
cartilaginous bone. For since it is continually moving, it needs 
some point of purchase to support it in its movements. Moreover, 
it has a certain fatty layer on the outside which prevents the 
heart from drying and keeps it moist : and there are certain veins 
and arteries dispersed through its substance: and it is formed 
also of a kind of hard flesh so that it may sustain many and 
forceful movements ; also it is formed of longitudinal, latitudinal, 
and transverse fibres, so that it may have the power to attract, 
retain, and expel. 

This member has three ventricles or chambers, like the brain. 
One ventricle is on the right side, the second on the left, and the 
third in between. The right ventricle towards the liver has two 
orifices. One is towards the liver and is very large. Into this 
there enters a vein called vena chilis, which arises in the con- 
vexity of the liver and brings the blood from the liver to the 
heart. In that right ventricle the blood is purified, and then 
sent by the heart to all the other members. 

Now since the heart attracts by this orifice of the vena chilis 
more than it expels, therefore nature ordains that in the moment 
of contraction when the blood is expelled this orifice closes, and 
when the heart dilates it opens. 

Moreover there are three little valves (hostiolitti) or doors 
opening from without inward, and these valves are not very 
depressed ; so that by this same orifice only part of the purified 


blood is expelled to the other members, because part goes to the 
Imigs and the remainder forms the vital spirit ; therefore nature 
ordains that these valves do not entirely close. From the vena 
chilis, before it enters the cavity of the heart, there arises another 
vein, which surrounds the root of the heart ; and from it are 
given ofE branches which disperse themselves through the sub- 
stance of the heart, and from the blood of that vein the heart 
nourishes itself. 

The right ventricle towards the lung has another orifice into 
which opens the arterial vein, bringing the blood from the heart 
to nourish the lung : in this orifice also are three valves (hdstioli) 
openmg from within outward and closing from without inward, 
in the opposite way to the valves of the other orifice ; and 
this is so that they should entirely close. Hence by this orifice 
the heart during the period of contraction can expel, and yet 
during the period of its dilatation cannot attract anything through 
it as was done in the first orifice. 

The left ventricle of the heart has its sides denser and thicker 
than the sides or waUs of the right ventricle ; and this for three 
reasons : Firstly, because in the right ventricle is contained the 
blood, which is heavy, whUe in the left ventricle there is spirit, 
which is very light ; therefore in order that the heart should not 
be heavier and more ponderous on one side than on the other, 
it was necessary to compensate in this manner, that is, that the 
left ventricle should be thicker in its walls than the right. In the 
second place, the spirit being more subtil and more volatile 
{resolvhile) than blood, it needs a stronger habitation and better 
supports. Thirdly, the left ventricle is much warmer than the 
right, because in it is generated the spirit from the blood, by 
a great heat which makes that blood more subtil ; and heat is 
better preserved in a substance that is dense and thick. 

In the cavity of this ventricle near its root are two orifices : 
one is the orifice of an artery called artharia adorti [= aorta], 
because it has immediate origin in the heart and because it is the 
source of all the others : by this artery the heart sends the gene- 
rated spirit to all the members ; and the very subtil blood is 
mixed with the spirit when the heart contracts. For which 
reason there are at the entrance of this orifice three valves, which 
close entirely from the outside inwards ; and they open from 
the inside outwards, and this orifice is very deep. 


The other orifice is that of the veTwl artery which conveys 
the air from the lung to cool the heart and transports warm 
vapours from the heart to the lung as has been said above ; and 
in this orifice are two valves which do not entirely close : and 
they are well raised so that they can better apply themselves to 
the sides [edges] of the heart when it sends out the spirit : these 
are marvellous works of nature, as is also the central ventricle of 
the heart, for this ventricle has not one cavity but many ; these 
are small but wide, and more numerous on the right than on the 
left ; and nature contrived thus, so that the blood which goes 
from the right ventricle to the left to be converted continually 
into spirit becomes thin in these cavities. 

And by this thou canst see that four things have birth in the 
heart. The first is the artery called adorti, the second is the 
vena chilis, the third is the arterial vein, and the fourth the venal 

Also thou wilt see in the heart certain membranous parts like 
auricles, or rather like small ears, able to dilate or contract ; these 
are contrived by nature in order that when overmuch blood or 
spirit is generated the heart can dilate so as to contain it ; and 
also that the heart may contract when there is no such abundance. 

And it is here that Galen asks. Why did not nature make the 
heart so large that it could contain every increase of blood or 
spirit without the addition of these membranes ? Galen replies 
that this was first because the heart would have been too large 
and therefore too heavy ; secondly, because as it is not always 
generating a great quantity of blood and spirit, if the heart had 
been too large, its cavity would usually have been empty : but 
these auricles dilate with the accumulation of blood or spirit, and 
contract with its decrease. 

The heart is surroiuided by a firm and nervous membrane, 
like a little house in which it is placed as in a tabernacle to defend 
it from accidents. This capsule is very dilated, that the heart in 
its dilations and movement may not be impeded thereby, and 
therefore nature made this capsule so that it should contain a cer- 
tain dewy moisture with which the heart is bathed and moistened 
so that in its continual movement it should not become dry. For 
when this water be dried up, then the heart itself is desiccated, 
and emaciates and dries up aU the body. 


The description of the heart follows Mondino closely. Occasion- 
ally a phrase or two is reminiscent of MondeviUe. The trite 
conception of the heart as a king in its necessarily central position 
was very frequently repeated by writers in the Middle Ages. To 
Harvey, who had a certain mediaeval element in his mentality, 
it seems to have appealed, and he used it in his Prelectiones 
Anatomiae,^ and chose it to introduce his great work on the circula- 
tion of the blood.^ The heart was similarly described as ' flame- 
shaped', because it was regarded as the source of animal heat. 
The idea that it is the first to live and the last to die comes from 
Aristotle.* The bone in the heart also comes from Aristotle.* The 
idea was quite famiHar to mediaeval anatomists, who frequently en- 
deavoured to identify the bone with the fir m tissue around the orifices 
of the aorta and pulmonary artery. The reader may be reminded 
that a true ' os cordis ' is in fact to be foimd in some mammalia. 

Mondino, followed by Manfredi, describes the action of the 
heart and blood-vessels mainly according to the views of Galen, 
but without any very clear or connected statement. The ' third 
ventricle ' especially has its origin ia a misimderstanding. 

This mythical structure is an attempt to combine the views 
of Aristotle and of Galen. Aristotle, who probably never dissected 
a human body, derived his anatomical conceptions largely from 
cold-blooded animals, in some of which the heart is provided 
with three cavities. He considered that the heart had three 
chambers, the largest being on the right, the smallest on the left, 
and one of intermediate size between the two. As far as they can 
be identified, the largest was the right ventricle plus the right 
auricle, the smallest or left chamber was the left auricle, while 
the intermediate cavity appears to have been the left ventricle.^ 

1 W. Harvey, Prelectiones anatomiae universalis, reproduced in facsimile from 
the author's MS. notes, London, 1886, folio 72 recto. 

^ W. Harvey, Exercitatio anatomica de motu cordis et sanguinis, Frankfort, 1628. 
The opening passage of the dedication to Charles I may be translated as follows : 
' Most serene king, the heart of animals is the basis of their life, the sun of their micro- 
cosm, that from which all strength proceeds. The king is in like manner the basis 
■of his kingdom, the sun of his world, the heart of the commonwealth, whence all 
power derives, all grace appears.' » Historia animalium, vi. 3. 

* Historia anirmlium, ii. 11 ; De Partibus animalium, iii. 4. 

5 Historia animalium, i. 14 and iii. 3 ; De Partibus animalium, iii. 4. The 
question of the identi y of these chambers is a difficult one. We have followed 
T. E. Lones, Aristotle's Researches in Natural Science, London, 1912, p. 137, 
where the conflicting views are summarized. 


Galen's description differed altogether from that of Aristotle. 
He tells us expressly and somewhat contemptuously that ' it is 
no marvel if Aristotle erred in many anatomical matters, a man 
who thought forsooth that the heart in the larger animals had three 
chambers '.^ Galen always describes the heart as having but two 
chambers, the right and left ventricles, a wholly subordinate part 
being assigned to the auricles. These latter were regarded as safety- 
valves, expanding to hold superfluous blood when the chambers of 
the heart to which they correspond become overfilled. 

No third ventricle is described by Rhazes or Haly Abbas,^ 
but Avicenna, in his Canon, makes an effort to combine the 
views of Aristotle and Galen. Speaking 
of the anatomy of the heart (lib. iii, 

fen. xi, chap. 1) he describes the ventri- 'li^T^IMil^ f8*t^\f. 
cular portion as follows : ' In the heart 
are three cavities, two large, and a third 
as it were central in position. So that 
the heart has [a] a receptacle [the right 
ventricle] for the nutriment with which 
it nourishes itself — this nutriment is 
thick and firm like the substance of the Fig. 21. the heart 
heart ; [6] a place where the pneuma is ^^'^ ^'''a^er SudS' ^^'''' ^^^ 
formed [the left ventricle], being engen- 
dered of the subtil blood ; and [c], thirdly, a canal between the two.' ^ 
A somewhat similar account is given in Constantine's translation 
of Isaac* The idea soon crept into European medicine, for in a 
Pisan MS. dating from the first half of the thirteenth century ® 
a crude figure of a three-chambered heart is to be found (Fig. 21). 

■* Galen, Ilept avarofUKSiv lyxuprjdvjiv. Book 7 (157) ; koX 6avfia<TTov ovSiv, aAAa t€ 
■jToAAa Kara ras avaro/Mi 'ApKTTOTekrj Sia/Aapreti', kol rjyita-Bai rptts Ix"'' '(oiXia'i IttX tSsv 
fjLeyaXiDV ^wo)v r^v KapSiav, Kiihll, ii. 62. 

2 Haly Abbas expressly denies its existence, chap. 21. 

3 P. Koning, Trois traites d'anatomie arabes, Leyden, 1903, 687, renders 
the passage as follows : ' Dans le cceur il y a trois cavites, deux grandes et une 
autre qui se trouve pour ainsi dire au milieu, afin que le coeur ait un depot pour 
la nourriture avec laquelle il se nourrit, nourriture epaisse et forte, semblable 
a la substance du cceur, ensuite un endroit ou se forme un pneuma qui y est 
engendre d'un sang subtil et enfin un canal entre ces deux.' 

* Pantechni. Theorice, lib. iii, cap. 22. Here, however, only two concauitates 
are described and between them a foramen : quod a quibusdam vacatur tertia con- 
cauitas : sed non est ita. 

* The MS. Roncioni 99, reproduced by K. Sudhoff in Archiv fiir Gesch. der 
Med., vol. vii, Tafel XIV, Leipzig, 1914. 


The first translator of the Canon ofAvicenna, Gerard of Cremona, 
whose work appeared towards the end of the twelfth century, 
improved on his original. ' In it [the heart] are three ventricles ; 
two are large, and the third as it were between, which Galen 
called the fovea or non-ventricular meatus, so that there may be 

ar^utttenturri cum interptt 

tAtione 3o.tat<Ipbi. 
a ^2Irrarieat)onip qaSmit 
tit cot fpm «^ 014 cotjjie mi* 

t%tr«. «t> intU6/i «pcriunttte 
V> ^^oV cconunfo, ^ 

\^ ^ ^ l^'TinAntvepaliepciMw 

pcrfem dauiunf/Jjiio tumc2 »mc2/qj naruM p«? foUid 
ta cfibeto quo& per ipfuiti ttAnfit. 
C ^<nec^ilio/pcreiu6 0:ifiaatr<i(><tco» fViiigtuin? «b 
cpAte/t mSbftt (»bo^an1cb:a.tfl<»u^tf|>OIAeJrpol^^on^6t 
«p«rtf ^OJA &iI««U6 ^oniola flperiuiif tf b tpttA «b 
<ntU6/t imperfecre claiibutuur. 
Q ^Vcne «rtcri«Ua que po:t«r fanguinf Ab pulrtioite ttt 
« cojfec:AtteruIc ^c^ 0oa? tu nica? ^Jpter AcafTuj ei*a& 
mtmb? ptmoi metue.^t q: poit«t frtn^utnc coIcricO vol 
be fubtiIe:ou6t)o|holA Apenunf cb intuA «b ejrtrA/<i dca 
bunf ecouerfo perffcte.pcr^oco2tficiu co: tm a (e ejrpellit 
^o:4 pfirtctoid/fz m^il rctinet ^o:a bilAtatoie. ^Cf buo^ 
Arterie venAlidi vcn<arteriAli«/j>trAnu ^j ( 
vttIirAte(;uculAtiii-i>CA.£tbc iuuAmchft mSbto^.rq.c* 
' vt Vt (Scmilio Ii.r;:pp.cAp. pjimo. 

Fig. 22. From Johannes Adelphua, Mundini de omnibtis humani corporis interiorib^ls 
menhris Arudhomia, Strassburg, 1513. The diagram shows the two lateral ventricles and the 
' central ' ventricle. By a printer's error the letters c and d are transposed. The arteria 
adorti is the aorta, the arteria venalis the pulmonary vein, the vena chilis the vena cava, and the 
vena arterialis the pulmonary artery. The auricles are ignored, as is frequently the case 
in works of the period, and the pulmonary veins are represented as opening directly into 
the ventricles. 

a receptaculum for the thick and strong nourishment, like to the 
substance of the heart, with which it is nourished, and also a store- 
house for the pneuma (spiritus) generated in it from the subtil 
blood. And between the two are channels or meatuses.' ^ Henri 

1 The passage in the Editio princeps of Gerard of Cremona's translation runs 
as follows (folio 96 recto) : ' Et in ipso sunt tres ventres, scilicet duo ventres 
magni et venter quasi medius quern Galienus nominavit foveam aut meatum 


de MondeviUe (died about 1320), by going direct to Galen, avoided 
some of the errors of Avicenna, with whom, however, he still 
describes three ventricles.^ Mondino does little but copy the 
Arabian, whom Manfredi also follows. 

We may terminate our description of the mythical third 
ventricle by quoting from Bartholomew the Englishman. His 
encyclopaedia written about 1260 was translated into English 
in 1397, and printed by Thomas Berthelet ^ in the 27th year of 
the reign of Henry VIII (1535), when Bartholomew's work was 
stUl extremely popular. Berthelet's rendering runs as follows : 

' And the hert hath ij holownesses, one in the left syde, that 
Cometh sharpe : and one in the ryght side, that is within : And 

(itedt. c. tiecob<Citbaupt<3i)ci;ntl)eTl.D.i|lbte 
l^cog lufftcoze / ^tr«4)ea geoAiit. e. beccuteos 
obzlmticslKcQcn.f. 5«ygt D<js o?tCe3b«t?ge 

Fig. 23. From Hans von GersdorfE, Feldt und Stattbuch bewerter Wundartznei, Frankfurt, 
1556. The trachea (d) is represented as opening directly into the heart. 

these two holownesses ben called the wombes of the hart. And 
betwene these two wombes is one hole, that some men call a veyne, 
other an holowe way. And this hole is brode afore the ryghte 
syde, and streyte afore the left syde. And that is nedef ulle to make 
the bloode subtyll, that commeth from the ryght wombe to the 
lefte, and so the spirite of lyfe may be bredde the easelyer in the 
lefte wombe.' 

In order to im^derstand why all these authors invoked the 
existence of the third ventricle, regarded by some of them as 
a passage between the other two, we must turn to the physio- 
logical beliefs of the age. It must be recalled that before the 
demonstration of the circulatory movement of the blood a 

non ventrem, ut sit ei receptaculum nutrimenti quo nutriatur spissum forte simile 
substantiae ipsius & minera jpiritus generati in ipso a sanguine subtili. Et inter 
ambos sunt viae ut meatus.' 

^ J. L. Pagel, Die Chirurgie des Heinrich von MondeviUe, Berlin, 1892, p. 45. 

^ Bartholomaeus Anglicus, De Proprietatibus Berum, London, 1535. Our 
quotation is from p. lliii. 

1892 £ 


certain amount of communication was beUeved to exist be- 
tween right and left ventricles. The complicated nature of the 
ventricular cavities and the intricacy of the columnae carneae 
promoted the idea of the presence of minute passages m the 
interventricular septum. Even so astute an observer as Leonardo 
da Vinci considered that ' the ventricles are separated by a forous 
waH, through which the blood of the right ventricle penetrates 
into the left ventricle, and when the right ventricle shuts, the 
left opens and draws in the blood which the right one gives forth' 
(Plate xxxvni 6).^ 

Although the third ventricle is described in all the twenty-five 
editions of Mondino, many of which are illustrated, they present 
no drawing of it except the wretched little diagram of J. A. 
MueKch (Johannes Adelphus) in 1513, which we here reproduce 
(Fig. 22), The confusion, however, to which the idea of a third 
ventricle gave rise influenced anatomy almost as late as the 
seventeenth century, and is illustrated in the anatomical figures 
of a late edition of Hans von Gersdorfi (1556),^ where the trachea 
is actually shown opening into the left ventricle (Fig. 23). It was 
Vesalius who took the first great step towards the discovery of 
the circidation of the blood, by firmly maintaining that the inter- 
ventricular septum was solid and contained neither passages nor 
intermediate ventricle.* 

VI. Italian Text 

MS. Canonici Ital. 237 

Hyeronimi manfredi ad Magnificum <fc potentem dominum ac militem 
lohannem Bentiuolum insequens opus de corporis Tiumani 
anoihomia exordium. 

[folio 1 verso] Opportet de sapientia admirari creatoris ut xv° de utilitate 
particularum scribitur a Galieno. Cum enim membrorum nostri corporis 
admirabilem Galienus aspiceret Armoniam predictum sermonem explicauit : 
ut nos ad dei sublimis et gloriosi admiranda opera commoueret : Quamuis 
nostra cognitio a dei compraehensione deficiat : unde et Seneca XL* epistola 

1 Leonardo da Vinci, Quaderni d'anatomia . . . Pubblicati da 0. C. L. Vangen- 
sten, A. Fonahn, H. Hopstock, Christiania, 1911. 

2 Hans von GersdorfE, Feldt und Stattbiich bewerter Wundartznei, edition 
rrankfiu:t, 1556. 

^ Ancient views on the cardiac system, including those of Mondino, are admir- 
ably reviewed by J. C. Dalton in his Doctrines of the Circulation, Philadelphia, 


ad Lucillum ait quid deus sit incertum est habitat in nobis : Sed deum 
mouemur inuocare eius sapientiam mirabiliter contemplantes. Quanta 
enim fuerit summi opificis in producendo res sapientia quanta eius solicitudo 
et prudentia opera profecto nature declarant : unde et psalmista mirabiUa 
sunt opera tua deus, et alibi cell enarrant gloriam dei et opera manuum eius 
annuntiat firmamentum. Quis enim taMa et tanta inspitiens creatorem 
euum abneget et eius potentiam ? Inscipiens quidem erit hie iuxta iUud 
psalmiste dixit inscipiens in corde suo non est deus. SubUmis autem dei mul- 
tiplitia et diuersa fuere opera. Creauit enim duplitia entium genera scUicet 
corruptibilia et incorruptibilia ; et in utrisque suam admirabUem sapientiam, 
suamque [folio 2 recto] infinitam potentiam ostendit. Totam enim entis 
latitudinem rdhil prorsus de spetiebus, quas ab aetemo in mente sua retiauit 
obmittens perfulciuit, et eas quas ab aetemo in sua habebat essentia ad 
aliud esse procreauit, ut in indiuiduis esse haberent : quae in suae maiestatis 
lumine existebant : et uniuscuiusque spetiei modo periecit ac uarietates per 
esse quod in singularibus habent (natura mediante & cum lege) imposuit. Ad- 
mirantur angelorum caetus obstupent hominum inteUeotus tantae maiestatis 
opera mirabilia : ut hoc summo bono : hoc perfectissimo ente nihU melius 
excogitari possit. admirabUem maiestatem, deitatem inoompraehensi- 
bUem, inefabUem potentiam : Quis te negliget ? Quis te non insequetur ? 
<3uis in operibus tuis non delectabitur ? 

Omnis igitur qui in operum dei gloriosi intuitu delectatur, hie prudens et 
non inscipiens est : hie dignus homo : hie inteUectu non caret. Cum igitur 
tua illustris Dominatio lohannes bentiuole magnanimis praesenti anno ex 
sui qua solet humanitate ad cuiusdam hominis defuncti anothomiam uno 
^emel uidere non fuerit dedignata ob sui intellectus dignitatem qui semper 
alta intelligere concupiscit, cumque tu opera tam naturae miranda in anotho- 
mizato incaepisti uidere corpore tunc haec intelligendi creuit animus , tua digna 
{folio 2 verso] creuit uolimtas : Et me hyeronimum Manfredum ad hoc opus 
de anothomia intittdatum matemo sermone tuo dignissimo nomini inscribere 
concitasti : (ut omnino sicut debeor) rem gratam tuae faciam dominationi : 
In hoc enim tui agnoui dignitatem intellectus, tui ingenii solertiam quod in 
rebus naturae mirandis tuum peruoluas inteUectum. Hoc enim opusculum 
quantum melius potui ex uariis antiquorum uoluminibus exserpsi ac id 
^breuiaui : nee eumdem forte tenui ordinem ut illi : et ipsum materno com- 
posui sermone ut opus hoc delectabilius tuae sit magnificentie. 

Accipe igitur magnifice et potens domine hoc opus de corporis humani 
anothomia tuo dignisimo nomini intitulatum, ea benignitate et humanitate, 
qua soles : et animo illari ac gratioso id accepta : qui satis tibi erit de- 
lectabUe et perplacebit quia dignum est opus : Vale miles magnanimis, et 
solito ama. 

Finis prohemii. 

[Here a folio is missing.] 

[folio 3 recto] a li nerui lequale hano origiae da le extremita di musculi : 
Unde e da sapere che li muscidi sono compositi de nerui, corde, e ligament! 
e came facti da la natura a dare el moto uoluntario, Impero da le soe extri- 
mita escono queste tale corde e uadono a membri che se debano mouere : 
e quando se retraheno U dicti musculi consequenter se se retraheno le lor corde : 
& finaliter i membri : et similiter quando se ddatano i musculi se dilatano 
etiam le corde & consequenter i membri. 

Li ligamenti sono etiam simili a nerui facti a ligare le iuncture de le 
osse e non li dette la natura sentimento como fece a li nerui & a le corde 
^cio che per el molto mouimento e fricatione de le iuncture non doleseno. 



Le Artarie sono de substantia neruosa & ligamentale in longo extense 
e concaue : ne le quale se contene el sangue sutiLLssimo & depurato et el 
spirito uitale el quale e mandate dal core a dare uita a tuti i membri : et 
hano origine da esso core : & impero hebeno doe tuniche acio chel sangue 
sutile & el spirito uitale non usisseno fuora. 

Le vene sono simile a lartarie ma sono quiete e non se moueno, ma 
hano origirie dal figato et in esse se contene el sangue grosso cum li altri 
humuri che non e cusi depurato ne [folio 3 verso] cusi sutile como e el 
sangue de le artarie : impero non li fece senon una tunicha : per che quelo 
sangue non era cosi sutile chel potesse penetrare fuora ne anche non biso- 
gnandose mouere non era suspitione de rompersi como ne le artarie che era 
neccessario a mouerse per ref rigerare el core atrahendo laiere frigido & expel- 
lendo fuora li fumi caldi da esso. 

Id pannicuU sono composti e texuti de fill neruosi sutilissimi che non se 
posseno uedere e sono questi panicuU spissi e sutili e sono de molte manerie : 
Alcuni forno facti a continere e coprire a Alcuni membri e custodirU ne la 
sua figura e substantia como sono li paniculi che copreno el cerebro e molti 
altri di li quali poi diremo : Alcuni altri panniculi sono facti a suspendere 
uno membro a laltro como li rognoni sono aligati a laschina mediante uno 
certo paniculo : Alcuni altri paniculi sono facti acio che alcuni membri che 
non hano sentimento recceuano qualche sentimento per el panniculo : nel 
quale sono inuolti como sono el pulmone el figato la milza & i rognoni li 
quali sono priuati de sentimento impero la natura aciascuno di loro li fece 
uno panniculo doue fusseno inuolti per la casone dicta. 

Da poi tuti questi membra hauendo la natura ordito el corpo de Ihomo 
de [folio 4 recto] li predict! bisogno reimpire le uacuita e reimpille de came : 
Fece aduncha la natura la came per reimpire le uacuita che rimangono da 
lorditura de nerui uene & altri membri dicti. 

Praeterea e da sapere che la natura ha dato aciascuno di li predicti 
membri quatro uirtu. Una e uirtu atratiua per laquale ha ad atrahere el 
nutrimento suo a se del quale el membro se ha a nutricare : La seconda 
uirtu e digestiua per laquale el nutrimento atrato se digerisse & conuertese ne 
la sustantia del membro : La terza uirtu si e retentiua per laquale el nutri- 
mento atrato se retiene debito tempo acio che la uirtu digestiua possa perfi- 
cere la sua operatione circha quello : La quarta uirtu e expulsiua laquale 
ha expellere le superfluita che se generano dal nutrimento ne la digestions. 

Anche e da sapere che la natura nel corpo de Ihuomo ha facto quatro 
membri principali como quatro signori et aciascuno di loro li ha dato una 
casa o uero uno palazo a sua custodia doue habite cum certe camare o uero 
stantie che hano aseruLrli al suo bisogno : El primo membro principale e 
signore e el cerebro al quale U fece la natura el capo cum le sue circumstantie 
per suo habitaculo e dette a questo membro che lui fusse principio e radice 
de tuto el sentimento e moto de tuto el [folio 4 verso] corpo : dal quale tuti 
li altri membri recceueno el sentire : e el mouere, & a questo membri li dette 
etiam cinque uirtu cognoscitiue exteriore cio e li cinque sentimenti e cinque 
altre uirtu cognoscitiue interiore che deserueno a lo inteUecto. 

El secondo membro principale e signore si e el Core alquale la natura ha 
dato la sua casa cio e el pecto cum le sue adiacentie : et aquesto membro 11 ha 
dato la uirtu de la uita dal quale proceda la uita in tuti li altri membri como 
da uno primo principio. 

El terzo membro principale e signore e el Figato alquale dette la natura 
per suo domicUio el uentre inferiore cum li altri membri circumstanti che 
sono neccessarii a la sua operatione e dette a questo membro la uirtu nutri- 
tiua chel fusse principio e radice del nutricare de tuti li membri. 


El quarto membro principale fu li testiculi e la sua casa e la bursa laquale 
U contene et aquilli deserueno piu altri membri como poi se uedera et a quest! 
testiculi ha dato la natura la uirtu generatiua cio e de generare el sperma 
o uero seme el quale habia una uirtu generatiua che possa produre una cosa 
simile a colui dal quale se decide tale sperma : et questo fu facto per conseruare 
Ihuomo in spetie non se possendo conseruare in indiuiduo. 

Ultra questi quatro membri principali e suoi domicilii [folio 5 recto] ha 
facto la natura alcuni altri membri cio e el coUo cum la gola che fusse uia 
e transito dal primo membro principale cio e cerebro ali altri membri princi- 
pali et etiam a tute laltre parte & per altre utilita quale noi da poi diremo. 

Item ha facto la natura le braza e le mane che hauesseno a pighare el 
cibo e mandarlo al luoco conueniente et etiam per che Ihuomo solo uiue per 
arte lequale non se possono perficere senza le braza e mano. 

Item fece le cosse, gambe e piedi acio se potesse mouere da luocho a luocho 
secondo li soi bisogni. 

Noi aduncha poneremo la Anothomia de tuti li membri e parte dicte : 
Comenciando per ordine dal cerebro e da la sua casa et consequenter descen- 
dendo per insino apiedi. 

Capitulum secundum tractatus primi de anothomia capitis et omnium 

contentorum in eo. 

Fece la natura el capo ossuoso per magiore tutela del cerebro : el quale 
essendo inmobile non li bisogno hauere musculi : Et per che el cerebro ne 
Ihuomo e magiore che ne li altri animali secondo la sua grandeza impero 
bisogno chel capo de Ihuomo fusse etiamdio grande per rispecto de li altri 
animali : Et etiam bisogno li meati del capo ne Ihuomo essere piu distincti 
essendo piu dedito al cognoscere. 

La figura [folio 5 verso] del capo naturale e rotonda compressa da dui 
canti como sel fusse una cera rotonda compressa cum le mano da la parte 
drita e da la stancha faria doe eminentie una dinanzi e laltra de drieto e la 
parte drita e stancha rimaneriano piane : Bisogno fusse rotondo acio fusse 
piu capace et etiam che fusse piu seciu-o e risguardato da nocumenti exterior! 
a li quali e molto exposito : Bisogno etiam essere facto cum quelle eminentie 
acio che li meati del cerebro hauesseno megliore distinctione et acio che li 
cinque sentimenti exteriori hauesseno origine da la eminentia anteriore. 

Diece sono le parte del capo : La prima e li capiUi quasi capitis piU facti 
da la natura a magiore tutela del capo da le cose exteriore et etiam per 
belleza : La seconda parte del capo e la cute la quale bisogno essere molto 
grossa acio che li capilli fusseno ben &mi hauendo le radice sue molte grosse 
e longhe et etiam che fusse megliore scuto e cooperimento de losso et del 
cerebro non li essendo parte musculose : La terza parte si e la carne laquale 
solo e ne la fronte e ne le tempie e circha le masselle e non in le altre parte : 
La quarta parte e imo panniculo exteriore chiamato almochatim elquale 
appare in continenti como e liuata su la cute e copre tuto losso del craneo 
de fuora : Et fece la natura questo panniculo [foho 6 recto] acio che lacute 
che e moUe non tochasse incontinenti losso che e duro : Et etiam acio che 
losso del capo hauesse sentimento per questo panniculo : Et tertio anche 
acio che el paniculo interiore del capo chiamato Duramater mediante questo 
panniculo stesse suspeso a losso del craneo cum certi nerui e ligamenti che 
escono per le comissure del dicto osso et hano origine dal dicto panniculo 
interiore & uscendo fuora de losso texono o uero componeno quello panniculo 
exteriore dicto Almochatim : La quinta parte e el craneo cioe osso facto 


como uno capello nela concauita del quale gKe locate el cerebro : & in 
questo craneo furno quatro ossa cusite insieme e la natura non fece questo 
osso uno ma de piu pezi acio che achadando nocumento in una parte 
non comunicasse a laltre parte : Et etiam acio che per quelle comissure 
o uero cusiture potesseno meglio exhalare fuora le fumusitade dal cerebro : 
Et tertio acio che bisognando la uirtu de le medicine applicate potesseno 
meglio penetrare ale parte dentro quisti aduncha quatro pezi de osso furno 
da la natura cusiti et insieme ionti in modo de denti acio fusse piu fermi 
e forti et non furno facti in modo che se potesseno uincare como fano le 
iunture per che non seriano state cusi forte : et etiam [foUo 6 verso] per che 
non bisognaua a losso del capo mouerse : Et queste comissure sono cinque 
cio e tre uere e doe mendose : Le comissure uere sono quelle che passano 
tuto losso et le mendose non passano : De le uere comissure una si e ne la 
parte anteriore chiamata coronale et e facta a modo de uno C e protende 
da la parte drita a la stancha del capo et ha li branchi uerso la fronte. La 
secunda comissura uera si protende per la longheza del capo comencianda 
da la comissura coronale ala parte posteriore como una friza o uero sagitta 

che uene da larcho, impero e chiamata sagitale C • La terza comissura 

e ne la parte posteriore chiamata laudale facta a modo de uno A, per abacho 
chiamato dal greco lauda : e la comissura sagittale protende da la coronale 
a la laudale ) c • 

Le comissure mendose sono due da ciascaduno lato una cio e dal drito 
e dal stanco e sono dicte corticale per che non passano. 

Et se noi consideremo per queste cinque comissure hauemo quatro ossi 
cusiti insieme : Uno si e losso de la fronte che comenza dala comissura 
coronale e termina uerso la parte inferiore a una altra comissura la quale 
comenza da uno brancho de la comissura coronale e precede a presso le 
ciglie de li ochii a laltro brancho Q. Laltro osso si e de drieto el [folio 7 
recto] quale se termina a la comissura laudale e dui altri ossi da le temple 
che se terminano da le comissure mendose le quale comenzano da la comis- 
sura laudale a la comissura coronale. 

La sexta parte sono doi paniculi uno chiamato Dura mater el quale e in 
continenti de poi el craneo : e laltro se chiama pia mater el quale incontinente 
copre el cerebro e questo fece la natura hauendo grande solicitudine di 
questo membro acio che in continenti non fusse tocho da losso ma processe 
per piu mezi che uno fusse piu duro che laltro : Et anche fece dui panniculi 
acio che se la cadesse nocumento in uno de loro non comunicasse al cerebro 
in continente. Ne la pia matre sono texute certe uene per le quale se nutrisse 
el cerebro e si lo copre per tuto excepto la parte posteriore per che essendo 
queUa parte sicca non bisogno di questo paniculo como la parte anteriore 
e meza. Questi dui panniculi in piu luochi penetrano la sustantia del cerebro 
et se lo diuide in parte drita e parte sinistra et in parte anteriore & parte 
posteriore : et per queste tale diuisione furno fabrichate nel capo diuerse 
celule o uero camerette ne le quale produce lanima diuerse operatione per 
che bisognaua che queste tale parte fuseno de diuerse complexione. 

E leuati adoncha questi dui panniculi apparera La [folio 7 verso] Septima 
parte del capo : et e esso cerebro facta da la natura acio che el spirito uitale 
mandato dal core cahdissimo sia contemperato da la frigidita de esso cerebro : 
et iue douenti spirito animale elquale e principio de le operatione cognosci- 
tiue & motiue : e questo cerebro e una sustantia medulare biancha moUe 
e uiscosa a cio che da essa hauesseno origine li nerui : ma la parte dinanci 
fu generata piu humida e moUe & mancho frigida che la parte posteriore 
per che da la parte anteriore hano origine U sentimenti li quali sono molli 
A humidi ma da la parte posteriore hano origine li nerui motiui li quali 


bisognano essere piu sicci e forti : Questo cerebro aduncha se diuide in tri 
uintriculi ouero tre parte : El primo uentriculo o parte anteriore e diuisa 
in doe, cio e dextra e sinistra : et e magiore che nesuno de li altri uentriculi : 
et in questo primo uentriculo li pose la natura doe uirtu deseruente al cogno- 
scere una se chiama senso comune doue se termiaano li altri sensi exteriori 
como al suo centro et deferiscono le imagine o uero spetie de le cose sensiue 
a quello luocho acio che quella uirtu cognosca e distingua tra una cosa sensi- 
bUe e laltra etetiam cognosca le operatione di li sentimentiparticulari lequale 
doe cose non puo fare nesuno de quilli. 

Laltra uirtu de questo primo uentriculo se [folio 8 recto] chiama fantasia 
et apresso alcuni se chiama imaginatiua laquale ha a retiaere et conseruare 
le spetie de le cose sensibUe ne la absentia de le cose sensibUe. Quando tu 
harai ueduto el uentriculo primo tu uederai tre cose inanzi che uegni al 
uentriculo secondo. La prima si e doe anche cio e una cosa facta de la sus- 
tantia del cerebro in modo de doe anche che sono fundamento del uentriculo 
anteriore cusi da la dextra como da la sinistra parte : et dal lato di ciascuna 
ancha glie una altra cosa facta a modo de uno uerme subterraneo rosa se 
sanguinea ligata de certi ligament! e neruitti el quale uerme quando se 
alonga chiude quelle anche et consequenter chiude la uia tra el primo uentri- 
culo et el secondo et questo f ece la natura acio che Ihuomo quando uole posse 
cessare da le cogitatione e dal considerare et simihter quando uole consi- 
derare e pensare questo uerme se contrahe et contrahendosi apre quelle anche 
et consequenter apre la uia che e tra uno uentriculo e laltro : La terza cosa 
che tu uederai un poco piu de sotta e una lacuna cio e una certa conchauita 
rotonda che tra allongo nel mezio de laquale glie uno bucho che ua gioso al 
palato et a questo bucho li occorre una uia drita laquale descende dal uentri- 
culo di mezo al colatorio e questa lacuna ha circumquaque eminentie grande 
rotonde facte a sustentare [foUo 8 verso] le uene et artharie che ascendeno 
a dicti uentriculi : e quello bucho e lato di sopra e stretto in f onde e per questa 
lacuna el primo e secondo uentriculo purgano le sue superfluitade benche 
la parte anteriore piu se purghi per li colatorii del naso : Unde queste doe 
uie fece la natura ad expurgare le superfluita del cerebro. 

Quando adoncha tu hauerai ueduto queste tre cose incontinente te 
apparera el secondo uentriculo del mezo el quale e como una uia et uno 
transito dal primo uentriculo al posteriore : in questo uentriculo sono doe 
uirtu una chiamata extimatiua laquale ha elicere cose insensate da le cose 
sensate. Laltra uirtu se chiama cogitatiua laquale cognosce cusi le cose sensate 
como le cose insensate componendo e diuidendo : e questa uirtu in mediate 
deserue a lo intellecto : et tute le altre uirtu dicte et anche la uirtu memora- 
tiua se ritrouano ne li animali bruti, ma questa solo se retruoua ne Ihuomo. 

Dapoi te occorrera el terzo uentriculo situate ne la parte posteriore duro 
per che e principio de la piu parte di nerui motiui liquali bisogno essere piu 
forti e duri : Questo uentriculo e de figura pyramidale cio e facto in ponta e 
la ponta si e ne la parte superiore doue ha aconseruare le spetie per che megUo 
se riserua la cosa [f oHo 9 recto] in stretto luocho che in amplo : e la parte di 
sotto e lata per che ha a receuere le spetie e meglio se receue in luocho amplo 
che stretto : Due adoncha utilita se ha da questo uentriculo una che e prin- 
cipio de la nucha e di li nerui mottiui. Laltra si e che e camera de la uirtu 

E per questo appare che quando e offesa la parte posteriore del capo in 
continenti se ofEende la inemoria e quando se offende la parte de mezo se 
offende la uirtu extimatiua & cogitatiua & offesa la parte dinanzi se offende 
el senso comune e la fantasia et in questo modo ueneno ia cognitione li 
medici de li luochi de le dicte uirtu. 


Facto questo tu leuarai el cerebro ligieramente chel non si rompa alcuno 
neruo e comezarai da la parte di nanzi & incontinenti te apparerano doe 
came picole in modo de doi capi de mamille simile ala sustantia de cerebro 
per che nascono da quello et sono coperte dal paniculo subtile cio e da la 
pia matre e queste sono lorgano de lo oderato done e la uirtu olphatiua. 

Dal cerebro nascono septe para de nerui : procedi adoncha pm oltra ne 
la parte dinanci e uederai el primo paro de dicti nerui Uquali sono grandi 
chiamasi nerui obtitii de li quali la origine e dal cerebro ne li uentnculi 
anteriori e procedeno uerso li ochii ma nanci che escano la pia matre se 
coniongeno [folio 9 verso] et in luocho de la sua unione sono perforati : 
Uolse GaUeno che dicti nerui solo se coniongeseno o uero se unisseno e non 
se incrutiasseno ma quello neruo che uiene dala parte drita da poi la unione 
ritoma pure dala parte drita et similiter quello che uiene da la parte sinestra 
da poi la unione ritorna uerso lochio sinistro : Ma Rasis uolse el contrario 
benche la opinione de Galieno sia piu comune : questi nerui deserueno al 
uedere e fu necessario che se uniseno acio che le spetie de la cosa che se uede 
receuuta in doi ochii e portata per doi nerui ritorni a unita acio che una 
cosa non appara doe. 

Dapoi li dicti nerui leua el cerebro secondo la sua medieta e uederai 
uno altro pare de nerui subtili et duri li quali uengono similiter a li ochii 
a darli el mouimento uoluntario componendo certi musculi. 

Da poi tu uederai el terzo pare de nerui di quaU una parte se ne ua ala 
faza a darli el sentire e el mouere uoluntario et anche una parte de quisti 
ua a dare el gusto a la lengua : Un altra parte de dicti nerui se mescola 
iusieme cum el quarto ^ pare de nerui et descendeno insieme gioso a dare 
sentimento al Diafragma et al stomaco et alaltre uiscera : Una certa parte 
de li nerui del quarto ^ pare se ne ua a dare el sentimento al palato. 

Da poi e el quinto pare de nerui se ne ua a li ossi petrosi liquali sono 
apresso [folio 10 recto] le orechie e de questi nerui ne li buchi de lorechie 
se componeno certi panniculi liquali sono organo de lo audire. 

Da poi e el sexto pare de nerui che se diuide in tre parte una parte 
ua ali musculi de la gola : Laltra parte ua ali musculi de le spalle la terza 
parte che e magiore de le altre descende gio a lo epyglotto e nel diafragma 
se sparge nel pecto nel core e nel polmone a compagnandosi insieme cum 
li nerui del terzo pare dicti : Et anche da li nerui di questo sexto pare 
quali uadeno gio a lo epyglotto se generano li nerui de la uoce chiamati 
reuersiui dili quaU piu disotto se uedera. 

Dapoi e el septimo pare de nerui ha origine da la parte posteriore del 
cerebro e uadeno a dare el mouimento a la lingua uoluntario : De questi 
septe para de nerui li primi doi pari hano origine da la anteriore parte del 
cerebro : el terzo pare ha origine dal mezo de lanteriore e posteriore parte : 
li altri quatro para de nerui hano origine da la parte posteriore. 

E dapoi quisti procedendo piu oltre leua tuto el cerebro & apparera la 
octaua parte del capo cioe doi panniculi posti sotto el cerebro M quali leuati 
apparerati la nona parte che e una certa rethe laquale se chiama rethe 
mirabUe per che e contexta de una tegsetura fortissima et miraculosa multi- 
pUcata de certe artharie sutilissime : lequale sono [foUo 10 verso] rami de 
alcune artharie che ascendeno dal core chiamate artharie apopletice : & in 
queste artharie di questa rethe se contiene el spirito uitale mandate dal 
core acio che douenti animale : et acio che questo spirito meglio se alterasse 
e disponesse fece la natura quelle artharie sutilissime diuise per minime 

^ Manfredi here follows Mondino, who confuses Galen's fourth pair with 
Galen's sixth pair of nerves. 


parte acio che questo spirito fusse diuiso anche in minime parte : et pose 
la natura questa rethe mirabile sotto el cerebro perche bisogno hauere de 
molta custodia onde lo situo in luoco tutissimo et etiam acio che le humidita 
uaporese del cerebro che cadeno sopra questa rethe opUandola inducesse el 
somno naturale. 

Da poi tute queste cose uederai losso basilare che e la decima et ultima 
parte del capo e chiamasi basilare per che e base e fondamento de tuto el 
capo e fu facto duro acio che le superfluita che descendono a lui non lo 
putrefesse : e questo osso e diuiso in molti altri ossi como se puo uedere 
cociandelo. Onde se diuide ne le osse petrose e ne li ossi del naso e ne le ossi 
de li ochii & in doi altri ossi laterali li quali non se possono uedere se non 
per uia de decocione. 

Capitulum tertium de anothomia oculorum et membrorum deseruien- 

tium uisui. 

Le ossa del naso forno cauernose e porrose acio che le superfluita del 
cerebro possano meglio de [folio 11 recto jscendere e lo odore ascendere. 

Dapoi scinde tuti doi li ossi de gliochii e uederai la colligantia loro cum 
■ li nerui obtitii e cum li nerui motiui : e el loco de li ochii non f u molto in 
profondo per che douea receuere le spetie de le cose uisibile : ne anche 
f u tropo eminente acio non receuesse lesione da le cose exteriore : Et essendo 
li ochii molto molli e passibOi ne Ihuomo fece la natura li supercilii acio 
fusseno custoditi da le cose che descendeno de su in gioso e fece le palpebre 
che fuseno custoditi da le cose che uengono da fuora dentro : e fece le 
eminentie de le maxille et anche el naso in mezo che da ogne lato e per 
ogne uerso fusseno custoditi : tanto f u la solicitudine che hebe la natura di 
questo membro. 

Septe sono le tuniche e tri humori di liquali e composto lochio tre 
tuniche anteriore se coiongeno cum tre altre posteriore como se fusseno sei 
scutelle che cum la bocha ogne doe se coniongesseno e che doe fussene 
magiore che contineseno le altre doe e poi li e la septima tunica che e magiore 
de tute e contene tuto lochio : e pero se chiama coniontiua per che con- 
gionge e circunda tuto lochio excepto el luocho de la pupilla e quelle pocho 
de la cornea che appare e questa e la prima tunicha comenzando da le 
parte de fuora et e biancha. 

La seconda tunicha ne la parte dinanci se si chiama cornea [folio 11 verso] 
per che se asomigha al corno quanto ala substantia e quanto al colore : 
e fu questa tunicha transparente acio che le spetie de le cose uisibile potesseno 
penetrare per essa e fu etiam soUida e grossa composita de quatro pellicule 
e questo fu per che e propinqua a le cose exteriore non receuesse nocumento 
da esse e cum questa tunicha ne la parte posteriore se conionge un altra 
tunica dicta sclu-oticha cio e dura e queste doe tuniche hano origine dal 
paniculo di sotto el craneo cio e da la dura matre cusi como la prima tunicha 
ha origine dal panniculo disopra el craneo dicto almochatim. 

La quarta tunicha ne la parte dinanzi se chiama uuea a similitudine 
de uno grano de uua negra et in el mezo di quella glie uno buco che se chiama 
la pupilla : fece la natura questa tunica obscura acio chel spirito uisiuo 
se conf ortasse e che non si resoluesse dal lume exteriore : e fece quello 
buco in questa ttinica acio che le spetie potesseno penetrare senza im- 
pedimento e fecelo stretto acio chel spirito uisiue fusse unito : Onde quando 
dicta pupilla o uero buco se alargha oltra el debito o per natura o per acci- 
dente se impedisse el uedere : e ne la parte de drieto se li coniongne la quinta 
tunica dicta secundina per che e facta a simUitudine de la secondina cio 


e paniculo nel quale se inuoltano li putti nel uentre [foUo 12 recto] de la 
matre et hano origine de la pia matre. 

La sexta tunicha se chiama ne la parte dinanzi aranea per che e facta 
in modo de una tela de ragno a la quale ne la parte postenore se li comongne 
la septima tunicha chiamata arethina per che e facta in modo de una rethe : 
et in mezo de la tunicha uuea et de la aranea da la parte dinanzi giie uno 
humore dicto albugineo facto a simUitudine de uno albumo de ouo tacto 
per humettare lochio et acio che la tunicha cornea stia suleuata impero 
ia li homini che moreno quando questo humore se desicca cade la cornea 
e se si spiana et a Ihora dice el uulgo che appare una tela dinanzi da ghochu 
et e signo infahbile de la morte : Et anche questo humore tiene la pupiUa 
apperta impero quando se sicca se stringe la pupilla : Nel meze de le due 
ultime tuniche cio e aranea et arethina lequale hano origine da nerui obtitu 
U sono dui humuri cio e uno humore uitreo a sinulitudine de uno uetro 
liquefacto : Laltro humore e dicto cristallino a similitudine del cristallo : 
dicto etiam grandineo a similitudine de una grandine et e alquanto duro 
e rotondo cum una certa planitie ne la parte anteriore done se receueno le 
spetie de le cose uisibile : e ne la parte posteriore e de figura pyramidale 
cio e che e facta in ponta : et iue se conpisse [folio 12 verso] lacto del 
uedere : e ne la parte posteriore e circumdato da Ihumore uitreo dal quale se 
nutrisse : e questo humore cristalino declina piu uerso la parte anteriore e 
Ihumore uitreo uerso la parte posteriore. Et a li ochii uengono li nerui 
obtitii per li quali se de portano le spetie uisibile da gliochii al senso comune 
et ali altri sensi interiori. 

Capitulum quartum de anothomia aurium et membrorum 
deseruientium auditui. 

Expedito questo tu uederai le orechie poste da doi lati del capo in mezo 
de lanteriore parte e posteriore acio che la uoce o uero sono se potesse 
audire da ogne canto cio e da la parte drita e stancha dinanzi e de drieto 
de sopra e disotto : non f urno situate da la parte dinanzi per che iue li sono 
ghochii el gusto e lolphato : non furno poste de drieto per che seriano 
state tropo distante dal senso comune : forno poste sotto la tonsura di 
capilli per che se piu sopra fusene state poste seriano state uelate da cepUli 
e da quelle cose che se portano in capo. 

Furno le orechie rotonde acio fusseno piu capace de laere sonoro : non 
furno ossuose acio che per qualche percussione o caso non se rompeseno : 
forno adoncha carthilaginose acio che fusseno piu sonore : non furno etiamdio 
carnose ne paniculare per che non hauerebeno seruata la figura e composi- 
tione [folio 13 recto] debita. 

Hebbe uno buco ritorto e non dritto como queUo de le limache acio 
che se facesse megliore reuerberatione de laiere sonoro in esse : et anche 
ne aiere disproporcionato ne sono si tropo forte senza misura peruenisse 
a lorgano de laudito : e questo buco e uelato de uno paniculo duro texuto 
de fili neruosi che hano origine dal quinto pare de nerui del cerebro et de 
fill ligamentali che hano origine da losso petroso al quale se termina el 
dicto buco : ne la concauita del quale li e el neruo auditiuo cio e nel quale 
se compisse laudito et e texuto in modo de uno panniculo : et e continuo 
a la dura matre nel quale se contiene uno certo spirito auditiuo dal principio 
de la generatione iue complantato : et apresso di quello U e una certa 
uisichetta ne laquale e posto un certo aiere connaturale el quale deserue 
a laudito. 


Capitulum quintum de anothomia nasi et aliorum memhrorum 
deseruientium olphatui. 

Le osse de le maxille comenzano da la comissura che e tra el craneo 
e losso basilare in luocho che e ne la fine del sopracilio e de la fronte et pro- 
cede uerso la parte posteriore a presso losso petroso doue se termina lorechia 
e terminano ne la parte di sotto a li denti : de liquali poi uederemo la 

El naso e composite de doi ossi figurati [foUo 13 verso] secondo la 
forma de doi trianguli che hano le ponte in su uerso el coUatorio : et sono 
lati ne la parte de sotto. Onde el naso e piu largo di sotto che di sopra 
e queste ossa furno sutile acio che fusseno ligiere e non graue : ne anche 
furno tropo dure per che non U bisognaua in queUo luocho grande forteza. 

Fu etiam el naso composto de tre carthilagine cio e doe ne lextremita 
de doi ossi acio che le parte molle cio e la cute e li musculi inmediate non 
fusseno tochi da le osse dure e che le nare stesseno aperte e se potesseno 
dilatare e constringere secondo la neccessita de laiere atrato & expulso 
e questo non se harebe potuto fare se solo fusse stato ossuoso. 

La terza carthilagiae diuide el naso per mezo per el longo et e piu dura 
ne la parte superiore che ne la ioferiore : Onde furno facti doi meati e buchi 
acio che uscendo le superfluita per uno laltro deseruisse a laiere atrahato 
et expulso : Onde essendo uno meato solo ne lexito de le superfluita harebbe 
impedito el transito de laiere : questi doe meati peruengono al collatorio 
cio [e] uno buco che e ne losso basilare et similiter iue sono perforati U dui 
panniculi che copriuano el cerebro per iasiuo a le caronchole mamillare : 
lequale sono ne lextremita de le due parte del uentriculo anteriore del 
cerebro como e stato dicto. 

El naso etiam fu composto de doi musculi [foUo 14 recto] picoU acio 
che essendo grandi non impedisseno glialtri musculi de la faza cio e quilli 
che sono ne le maxille che moueno i labri : et similiter ghaltri musculi. 

El naso fu composto per molte rasone : prima per euentare el cerebro : 
Secundo ad atrahere laiere : nel quale sono le spetie de le cose odorabUe : 
e cusi deserue a lolphato : Tertio acio che le littere prolate meglio se distia- 
guano come el buco grande de la fistola o uero zalameUa deserue ala dis- 
tinctione di soni : Quarto acio che per questo meato se expurgaseno le 
superfluita del cerebro. 

Capitulum sextum de anothomia oris palati dentium uuulae 
faucum et linguae. 

Ne la bocha sono doi labri uno disotto e laltro si e disopra composti 
de nerui came cute e panniculo de una mirabile comixtione in modo che la 
cute e la carne e li nerui et el panniculo non se posseno seperare iusieme : 
e questo fu facto acio che hauendo bisogno quisti labri di mouerse per 
ognie uerso bisogno che fusseno cusi composti per che non se posse fare in 
quello luocho musculi per la graueza grande che seria stata : el paniculo 
che copre i labri nasce da la tunicha intrinsecha del meri cio e de la uia 
che ua a lo stomaco : et consequenter se continua per questo modo cum 
la timicha interiore del stomaco cusi como etiam dio tute le altre parte 
de la bocha se [folio 14 verso] continuano acio chel sentimento del stomaco 
se conform! al sentimento de la bocha et per questo appare che quando el 
de uenire uomito a qualche uno trema lo labro inferiore. 


Da poi li labri sono trentadoi denti sedeci superiori et sedici inferiori : 
de li inferiori doi sono dicti duali : doi altri incisiui : doi altri canini : quatro 
maxUlari : et sei molari che sono in tuto sedici : & altratanti superiori. 
Forno facti li denti : prima per masticare el cibo acio che meglio si digesta : 
secundo per la uoce et distinctione de la eloquela cusi como furno facti li 
labri. Onde quUli che manchano de denti o de labri non proferiscono bene. 

Da poi tu uederai el palato el quale ha una certa concauita ne la sumit- 
tade acio che la uoce habbia el suo tono : et etiam chel cibo quando se 
masticha meglio si possa reuolgere per bocha : 

Ne la fine del palato tu uederai una carne pendente in modo de uno 
grano duua : impero si chiama uuula : et e de substantia rara e spongiosa 
per che fu facta principalmente a receuere la humidita che descende dal 
capo acio non descenda a membri inferiori impero spesso se tumefa dicta 
uuula : fu facta etiamdio acio che temperasse et modulasse la uoce refran- 
gendo laiere che uiene dal polmone : et etiam che lo aiere atrahato al pol- 
mone lo ritenga al quanto repercutiendolo acio che cusi frigido non peruenga 
al polmone [foho 15 recto] ma alquanto alterato : e per questa rasone 
appare che quUli che hano taghata la uuula sono molto catarosi impero 
comandano i medici che non se taghe quando e apostomata : ma che se 
cauterige cum fuoco. 

Dapoi la uuula sono le fauce : e sono li luochi ampli glandosi disposti 
a receuere le superfluitade del cerebro impero facilmente se apostemano. 

Dapoi e la lingua laquale e fabricata et ligata a losso posteriore del 
capo dlcto lauda facto a modo de uno A per abacho e fu composta di carne, 
panniculo, uene, artharie, et noue muscuU : e forno facti tanti musculi in essa 
per che se douea molto mouere per ogne uerso secondo el bisogno de la 
loquela : Et fu in essa piu uene artharie e nerui che in qualoncha altro 
membro rispetto de la sua grandeza : et fu facta la lingua acio che fusse 
organo del gusto per nerui che uengono dal terzo pare di nerui gia dicto 
circa la sua radice : et sono de due facta nerui che uengono a la lingua cio 
e uno paro di nerui motiui a darli el moto : et mio altro paro di nerui sensitiui 
a darli el gusto : et tu uederai che li nerui motiui piu se profondano ne la 
lingua per darli el mouere : et li nerui sensitiui sono piu expansi ne la super- 
ficie : et nel suo panniculo a darli el gusto e el tacto : Fu etiam facto la 
lingua che deseruisse al proferire de le parole : et etiam a reuolgere el 
cibo per bocha quando se masticha. 

Circa [foho 15 verso] la radice de la Hngua da ciascuno lato sono carne 
glandose facte acio che generasseno la humidita saliuale che hauesse a 
humetare la lengua acio che non se siccase per tanti mouimenti che ha in 
se : et in queste carne glandose sono dui buchi che poria intrare uno stile 
e per quilli buchi se distilla la humidita saUuale. Sotto la lingua sono doe 
uene grande uiride da le quale poi procedeno piu altre uene. 

Et nota che la meghore lingua quanto al deseruire al parlare e la lingua 
che e mediocre ne la longitudine e sua latitudine cio e che non sia tropo 
longa ne tropo larga : e che apresso de la ponta et extremita sua exteriore 
sia sutile per che la lingua che e longa larga e grossa o uero tropo picola 
non e conueniente al parlare. 

Nota etiam che la lingua ha coUigantia cum el cerebro mediante li 
nerui che uengono ad essa et cum el figato mediante le uene : et cum el core 
mediante le artharie et cum el stomaco mediante el meri : et cum el polmono 
mediante la cana de esso polmone : impero in ciascuna infirmita i signi 
de la lengua sono molti efficaci a iudicare di tale infirmita : e quiue se 
finisse la anothomia del primo membro principale cio e [el] cerebro e del suo 


Tractatus secundus de anothomia membrorum spiritualium et se- 
cundi membri principalis : capitulum primum de anothomia 
gule et colli. 

[folio 16 recto] Finito el primo membro principale e ueduta la anothomia 
del suo habitaculo e de le altre camare deseruente a quello resta a uedere la 
anothomia di gli altri membri principali : E prima uederemo la nothomia 
del coUo e de la gola che e condutto e meato dal primo membro principale 
a glialtri. Diciamo adoncha che la gola si e uno certo spatio nel quale sono 
doe uie una che mena el cibo al stomaco : e questa se chiama meri : Laltra 
uia mena laiere al pulmone a rifrigerare el core : & etiam mena fuora laiere 
e uapori caldi da esso core : Onde se tu scarni el coUo e la gola tu uederai 
certi musculi longitudinali sopra liquali nota le uene da tuti doi li canti : 
et eleuati quilli musculi tu uederai doe carne ala forma de doe mandole ne 
la radice de la lingua : una da ciascuno lato : de le quale habiamo dicto 
parte disopra : et anche noi dicemo che sono como doe orechiette picole, 
e sono neruose acio [che] siano forte et aiuteno a fare penetrare laiere a la 
canna del polmone : et etiam queste tale amigdale hano a congregare una 
certa humidita per humettare la lingua como e stato dicto et per humetare 
etiam la canna del polmone acio [che] non se dessiccasse : et anche 
acio che reimpisseno i luochi uacui de la gola : et anche acio che fusseno 
scuto e tutella de le uene & artharie che ascendeno al capo : Onde per 
questo collo e gola passano le uene dal figato ascendendo al cerebro a darH el 
nutrimento [folio 16 verso] per esso anche passano le artharie che ascendeno 
dal core al cerebro a darli la uita : et acio chel spirito uitale per esse uada 
al rethe mirabile delquale e stato dicto douenti animale e chiamase queste 
artharie apopletice per che quando se opillano generano la poplesia cio e el 
male de la gozola prohibendo el transito del spirito. Per questo etiam collo 
passano i nerui che descendeno dal capo ai membri inferiore a darli el sentire 
et el mouere : e tute queste parte potrai uedere escarnando e tagliando el 
collo e la gola per lo longo. 

Capitulum secundum de anothomia pulmonis et tracheae artharie ; 

id est cane pulmonis. 

Vediamo hora la anothomia del core el quale e laltro membro principale : 
e del suo domicUio nel quale e anche collocato el polmone como quello che 
serue ad esso core. 

Volse Aristotile chel core fusse el primo principio e cagione de tute le 
operatione del corpo : e che fusse principio del sentire e del mouere e del 
nutrire e del uiuere e che li era solo uno membro principale : e che el cerebro 
e el figato erano suoi ministri : ma questo non plaque a Galieno ne a li altri 
medici liquaU per hora noi seguitemo. 

El domiciUo adoncha del core si e el luocho del pecto circundato da le 
coste dala parte dinanzi e da la parte de drieto [folio 17 recto] da uno certo 
pamiiculo chiamato mediastino e da la parte di sopra el comenza dal prin- 
cipio de la canna del polmone et terminase ale parte di sotto a uno paniculo 
chiamato diafragma. Comentiamo aduncha ala parte disopra cio e dal 
principio de la canna del polmone e diciamo che el meri cio e la uia del cibo 
et la trachea artharia cioe la canna del polmone che e uia de lo hanelito 
comentiano in uno medesimo luocho : Et impero fece la natura uno cooper- 
torio al principio de la canna del polmone de una carne carthilaginosa e panni- 
culosa anexa al palato sotto lunula e questa carne copre lorificio de essa canna 


del polmone el quale orificio si chiama epiglotto : acio che ne Ihora del 
transglutire niente del cibo e del poto descendesce a la uia del polmone per 
che indurebbe suffocatione : Impero aduiene che se uno ridendo trans- 
glutisse qualche cosa ua al polmone et appare che Ihuomo se soffochi per che 
ne Ihora del ridere se apre lo epiglotto : Lieua adoncha el meri da la trachea 
artharia acio che tu uidi la compositione sua : ma sapii che el meri e la 
trachea facilmente se seperano per insino al epyglotto cio e al orificio de 
essa trachea ma circa lo epyglotto cum dificulta se seperano per che la tunica 
del meri si e dispersa ne lo epyglotto : e questo f ece la natura sagacemente acio 
che ne Ihora del transglutire del cibo quando [folio 17 verso] el meri se 
lieua uerso la bocha ad atrahere el cibo anche lo epyglotto se lieua acio che 
remanendo gioso per la sua dureza non impedisse el transito del cibo. 

La trachea artharia o uero canna del polmone e composita de anuli 
carthilaginosi e panniculosi e de Ugamenti che continuano quiHi anuli insieme 
facta da la natura a transportare laiere al polmone per auentare el core : 
& a transportare fuora i uapori caldi da esso et etiam fu facta a formare la 
uoce ne la sua extremita cio e ne lo epyglotto : Questa canna bisogno che 
fusse carthilaginosa et alquanto dura et non pelliculare e moUe perche 
bisognaua stare aperta essendo uia de laiere : e non fu etiam ossuosa per 
che douea essere flexibile per la formatione de la uoce : et anche se fusse 
ossuosa impediria el transito del cibo per el meri quando fusse tropo : Et per 
questa ragione la carthilagine di questa canna non fu una ma furno piu 
continuate per certe peUicole insieme : e queste sono facte como certi semi- 
circuli in modo de uno C per che se fusse una carthilagine seria dura e com- 
primirebbe el meri et impediria el transito del cibo. Onde questa cana ne 
la parte anteriore e carthilaginosa per che uerso quella parte non tocha el 
meri et anche acio che sia piu difesa da le cose exteriore ma uerso la parte 
posteriore e peUiculare per insino a lo epyglotto : La quale poi tuta e car- 
thilaginosa [foho 18 recto] per la ragione dicta : e questa canna del pul- 
mone non desceude se non insino a la furcula sotto laquale e incontinenti 
situato el pulmone : et el sito de essa e ne la parte dinanzi : et dritamente pro- 
cede e non storta acio che laiere habbia piu libero ingresso : et lo epyglotto 
che e principio di questa canna si e tuto carthilaginoso acio che sia piu 
sonoro : et e apresso la bocha acio che sia instrumento dela uoce : laquale poi 
ne la bocha douenta locutione per che la uoce finalmente ne Ihuomo se ordina 
al parlare. Questo epyglotto e composto de tre carthilagine e uinti musculi : 
Una carthilagine si e ne la parte anteriore e chiamasi clipeale a modo de 
uno capello : Laltra si e ne la parte posteriore uerso el meri e questa non 
ha nome : La terza si e in mezo di queste doe et in essa e una lenguetta in modo 
de una lingua de zalamella e chiamasi questa carthilagine fistula de lo 
epyglotto per che como la fistula se ordina nel sono cusi questa carthilagine 
si e ordinata al canto e la melodia : Questo epyglotto etiam e composto de 
uinti musculi a dare el moto uoluntario secondo el bisogno de formare la uoce : 
e dodeci di quisti sono da la parte di dentro e octo dala parte de fuori et 
a quisti musculi uengono dui nerui che hano origine dal sexto pare de nerui 
del cerebro dicti : di quali una parte descende per insino al core e poi comenza 
a reascendere per insino a lo epyglotto impero [folio 18 verso] sono dicti 
nerui reuersiui li quali sono nerui de la uoce e quando sono alo epyglotto se 
spargeno inquisti uinti musculi a darli el sentire e el mouere. Questi nerui 
f orno reuersiui e non directi per molte cagione : prima acio [che] f usseno piu 
forti per che quanto el neruo e piu remoto dal cerebro tanto e piu sicco e forte : 
La seconda acio [che] fuseno facti a modo de uno freno da cauallo acio chel 
cerebro meglio mouesse lo epyglotto secondo lo imperio de la sua uolunta 
mediante questi nerui como Ihuomo moue el cauallo al suo libito mediante 


el freno : La terza cagione e per che la uoce non solo depende dal cerebro 
como dal principio del moto uoluntario ma etiam depende dal core como da 
queUo nel quale se formano i concepti del cerebro et consequenter i concept! 
de la uoce : bisogno adoncha che dicti nerui comunicasseno al core : La 
quarta cagione e per che quisti nerui douendo uegnire ali musculi predicti 
bisogno che uigniseno al principio de dicti musculi e non a la fine : et el 
principio di quisti musculi de lo epyglotto e ne la parte inferiore. 

Da poi la trachea artharia tu uederai el pulmone ala compositione del 
quale concorreno piu parte ramificate como fili sutili ad ordire la sua sub- 
stantia : La prima parte che entra ne la substantia del polmone si e la 
trachea artharia laquale [folio 19 recto] como gionge a la furcula del pecto 
se diuide in doe parte : una ua al dritto e laltra al sinistro del pulmone e cias- 
cuna di quelle se diuide in doe altre parte cio e superiore et inferiore : e cias- 
cuno de quilli rami : se diuide etiam in rami minori e cusi diuidendosi peruen- 
gono a rami minimi como fili e circundano tuta la substantia del pulmone. 
Una altra parte che ordisse la substantia del pulmone si e una certa uena 
che ha origine dal uentriculo dritto del core laquale porta el sangue sutile dal 
core a nutrire el pulmone: e chiamasi uena arthariale Vena per che non 
pichia arthariale per che e composta de doe tuniche como sono le artharie : 
e questa uena se ramifica ne la substantia del pulmone como la trachea 

La terza parte che compone el pulmone si e una certa artharia che nasce 
dal sinistro uentriculo del core dicta artharia uenale : Artharia per che 
pichia Venale per che e composta de una tunica como le altre uene et per 
questa artharia se transporta dal pulmone al core laiere che uiene da la 
trachea artharia a refrigerare esso core : Et perquesta artharia etiam se manda 
dal core al pulmone laiere e uapori caldi e dal polmone poi escono fuori per 
essa trachea e questa artharia similiter se ramifica como le altre doe parte 
predicte : Onde li rami de la trachea [folio 19 verso] e de lartharia uenale e 
uena arthariale compongono tuto el pulmone in modo de una rethe : et 1 
buchi de questa rethe reimpisse una certe carne molle spongiosa laquale pro- 
prio e substantia de esso pulmone : Et tute queste quatro parte predicte sono 
inuolute da uno certo panniculo che ha origine da uno panniculo che e sotto le 
coste chiamato pleura del quale poi se dira per questo panniculo ha el pulmone 
el sentimento per che el pulmone non sente secondo la sua substantia. 

Et nota che li rami de la trachea artharia sono magiori che li rami de la 
uena arthariale, et de la artharia uenale per che nascono da magiore troncho 
et etiam nota che el pulmone e magiore ne la parte dritta che ne la stancha 
per che dal lato stancho glie el core che occupa quello luocho : Similiter 
e magiore ne la parte posteriore che ne la parte anteriore : Questo membro sie 
como flabello del core a refrigerarlo et etiam a mondificarlo da li uapuri che 
continue se generano in esso : impero e seruo e ministro del core. 

Capitulum tertium de anothomia cordis quod est secundum membrum 


Dapoi te apparera el core nel mezo del pulmone cooperto da le sue penole 
acio che laiere atrahatto da esso pulmone lo refrigere, e del suo caldo e spirito 
se tempri : Questo membro tra lialtri quatro e principalissimo per che e el 
primo che ne la generatione [folio 20 recto] uiue et e lultimo che more. 
Questo membro e de mediocre quantita per rispecto di li altri membri de 
Ihuomo : ma per rispecti di li cori de Ualtri animali e molto grande perche 
Ihuomo ha piu del caldo naturale che glialtri animali quantitatiue et non 


intensiue : Et e di figura pyramidale cio e de la forma del f uocho per che esso 
e de exceUente caUdita impero bisogno che fusse de una figura che asorai- 
gliasse a la figura del fuocho : e questa tale figura se chiama pigneale cio 
e simile ala figura de una pigna laquale e lata disotto e strecta di sopra et di 
tale figura fu facto acio che meglio se facessono distinctione de le sue ceUule 
o uentriculi : et etiam se fusse stato de una figura tuta unif orme como e la 
parte disotto seria stato tropo graue e ponder oso. Questo membro e situate 
nel mezo de tuto el corpo tolti uia glie extremi cio e nel mezo de le parte 
superiore et inferiore : nel mezo de le parte dinanzi e de drieto, e nel mezo de 
la parte dritta e sinistra como uno re che sta nel mezo del suo regname 
e questo fu facto acio [che] potesse equalmente dare la uirtu de la uita a tuti 
membri : E benche el core sia quanto al suo fondamento et ala sua base 
nel mezo tamen secondo la sua ponta declina al lato stancho sotto la mamilla 
sinistra acio che riscaldasse la parte sinistra como el figato riscalda la parte 
dritta : e questo [folio 20 verso] membro se sustenta e ferma de uno certo osso 
cartilaginoso per che e in continuo mouimento : bisogno aduncha che hauesse 
uno apogiamento alquale se fermasse nel suo mouimento : Et e etiam com- 
posto de una certa pinguedine ne la parte exteriore acio che prohibisca chel 
core non se desichi tenendolo humectato : Et e composto di certe uene et 
artharie disperse per la sua substantia : et e composto etiamdio de una certa 
came dura per che haueua a sustignire de molti e forti mouimenti : Et 
etiam fu composto de uili longitudinali latitudinali e transuersali per che 
bisognaua che hauesse uirtu de atrahere retignire et expellere : E questo 
membro ha tri uentriculi o uero tre cellule como ha el cerebro. Uno uentri- 
culo e dal lato dritto e laltro dal lato stancho e el terzo e in mezo : el uentri- 
culo dritto uerso el figato : el quale ha doi orificii : uno e uerso el figato et 
e molto grande nel quale entra una uena chiamata uena chilis laquale nasce 
dal gibbo del figato e porta el sangue dal figato al core : Et in questo uentri- 
culo dextro del core se puriffica quello sangue e cusi purificato poi lo manda 
el core a tuti li altri membri : e per che per questo orificio ha el core piu ad 
atrahere che ad expeUere impero ordino la natura che ne Ihora de la con- 
strictione quando de expellere che questo orificio se chiudesse : e che [folio 
21 recto] quando el core se dilatta se aprisse : Et iui sono tre hostiolitti 
o uero usitti liquali se apreno da fuora adentro : e questi hostioli non sono 
molto depressi e per che per questo medesimo orificio se expelle el sangue 
depurato aglialtri membri ma non tuto per che una parte ua al polmone e de 
laltra parte se ne fa spirito uitale : impero ordino la natura che quisti hos- 
tioli non se chiudesseno in tuto : E da questa uena chihs inanzi che entri la 
concauita del core nasce un altra uena laquale circunda la radice del core 
e da quella nascono alcuni rami che se disparghono per la substantia del 
core : E del sangue de questa uena se nutrisse esso core. 

Uno altro orificio ha questo uentriculo destro uerso el pulmone nel quale 
entra la uena arthariale che porta el sangue dal core a nutrire el pulmone : 
Et in questo orificio li sono etiam tri hostioli Liquali se apreno de la parte 
dentro a la parte difuori e se chiudeno da la parte difuori a la parte di dentro 
per el contrario di li hostioli de laltro orificio : e questo e per che in tuto 
se chiudeno : Onde per questo orificio el core ne Ihora de la constrictione 
solo ha ad expeUere : e ne Ihora de la sua dilatatione non ha ad atrahere 
alcuna cosa como faceua nel primo orificio. 

El uentriculo sinistro del core ha i lati piu densi e piu spissi che li lati 
o uero parieti del uentriculo dextro : e questo [folio 21 verso] fu per tre 
ragione : La prima per che nel uentriculo dextro se de contenere el sangue 
el quale e graue E nel uentriculo sinistro se de continere el spirito el quale 
e molto ligiero : acio aduncha chel core non fusse piu graue e ponderoso da 


una parte che da laltra bisogno recompensare in questo modo cio e che lo 
uentriculo stancho hauesse piu groseza ne li suoi parieti che el dextro : La 
seconda cagione e che essendo el spirito piu suttile e piu resolubile chal sangue 
bisogno adoncha che el suo habitaculo hauesse piu grosso e de megliore 
sponde : La terza cagione si e per che el uentriculo sinistro e molto piu caldo 
cha el dextro per che iui se genera el spirito dal sangue per una grande 
calidita che suttiglia quello sangue e la calidita meglio se conserua nel 
subiecto denso e grosso : 

Ne la concauita di questo uentriculo circa la sua radice li sono dui orificii : 
uno si e lorificio de una artharia chiamata artharia adorti per che inmediate 
ha origine dal core e per che e principio de la origine de tute le altre : per 
laquale artharia manda el core el spirito generato a tuti i membri : et etiam 
el sangue molto suttile insieme cum el spirito e questo fa quando el core se 
constringe : Onde nel principio di questo orificio li sono tri hostioli liquali 
in tuto se chiudeno da la parte difuori a quella dentro : e se se apreno da 
la parte dentro a la parte difuori e questo [folio 22 recto] orificio e molto 
prof undo. 

Laltro orificio si e de lartharia uenale laquale transporta laiere dal pol- 
mone a refrigerare el core e transporta i uapori caldi dal core al polmone como 
e stato dicto disopra : Et in questo orificio li sono doi hostioli che non se 
chiudeno altuto : Et sono molto eleuati acio che se apogiono melglio a la 
sponda del core quando el manda el spirito : Queste sono mLrabile opere de 
la natura como anche mLrabile opera fu nel uentriculo mezo del core per che 
questo uentriculo non ha una concauita ma piu lequale sono picole ma larghe 
e piu nela drita parte che la sinistra : E questo fece la natura acio chel 
sangue che ua dal drito uentriculo al sinistro per conuertersi in spirito 
continuamente se uegna suttigliando per quelle concauita. 

Et per questo tu poi uedere che dal core nascono quatro cose cio e lar- 
tharia chiamata adhorti : Laltra si e la uena chilis : la terza si e la uena 
arthariale : e la quarta si e artharia uenale. 

Anche uederai nel core certe parte pelliculare & in modo de auricule o uero 
orechiette apte a dillatarsi e constringersi facte da la natura acio che quando 
nel core se genera molto sangue o molto spirito se potesse el core dilatare 
a contenire quello sangue o queUo spirito multiplicato et anche se constrinza 
quando non glie tanta habundantia di sangue o de spirito. 

E qui adimanda Galieno [folio 22 verso] per che non fece la natura el 
core si grande che potesse continere ogne multitudine di sangue e de spirito 
senza quilh adittamenti di quelle pellicule. Risponde GaMeno che questo 
f u : prima perche el core seria stato tropo grande : et consequenter tropo 
ponderoso : Secundario per che non se generando sempre molta quantita de 
sangue o de spirito sel core fusse stato tropo grande per la piu parte de le 
uolte la concauita del core seria stata uacua : ma queste tale auricule se 
dillatano ne lo aduenimento del sangue o del spirito e cusi se stringono ne la 
paucita soa. 

Questo core e circumdato da uno panniculo duro neruoso o uero pellicu- 
lare facto in modo de una cassetta nel quale e posto el core como in uno suo 
tabernaculo a diffensarlo da le cose occurrente : Et e questa capsula molto 
dilatata acio chel core ne la sua dUlatatione e mouimento non fusse agrauato 
da essa : Et etiam fece la natura questa capsula acio che continesse una 
certa aquosita rorida de laquale se bagnasse et humetasse el core acio che 
per el suo continuo mouimento non se sichasse : Onde quando questa aqua 
che e ne la capsula del core sie desiccata etiam se desicca esso cuore et conse- 
quenter se demacra e desicca tuto el corpo. 

1892 L 


Capitulum qimrtum de anothomia trium panniculorum interiorum 
scilicet mediastine, pleure, <& diafragmaiis. 

[folio 23 recto] Tri sono li panniculi interior! diquesto domicilio del core : 
Uno che se chiama mediasttao che diuide la concauita del pecto per mezo 
cio e la parte dinanzi da la parte de drieto et consequenter diuide el polmone 
per mezo : e questo panniculo non e neruoso ne anche e ueramente uno 
continuo como li altri paniculi : e questo ha facto la natura per alcune 
utUita : prima acio che se una parte del polmone receucsse nocumento di 
qualchi superflui humuri che se agregasseno in quella non peruegni^se el 
nocumento e non regurgitasse quella materia a laltra parte ; Secundario 
acio che tenesse suspeso e ligato el polmone al pecto. 

El secondo parmiculo chiamato pleura e uno panniculo duro e neruoso 
e molto grande : el quale copre tute le coste da la parte dentro : impero ha 
colligantia cum tuti li membri liquali se contengono ne la concauita del 
pecto e questo panniculo fece la natura acio che cuprisse tuti quilli membri 
a sua tutela ; et acio che li paniculi dili membri tuti del pecto hauesseno prin- 
cipio et origine da quello. 

El terzo panniculo se chiama Diafragma e da Aristotile e chiamato diazona 
per che e como una cintura che cinge per mezo : Questo panniculo e mus- 
culoso cio e carnoso e neruoso et e situate ne la fine del pecto e de le coste 
e ne la parte dinanzi quanto a la parte sua [folio 23 verso] carnosa e con- 
tinuato cum le carthilagine de le coste mendose, e ne la parte posteriore 
e continuato cum la duodecima spondUe doue sono le rene : De le coste e di 
li spondili poi noi diremo. 

La utOita de questo pannieulo prima fu acio chel seperasse li membri 
spirituali da li membri naturali cio e el secondo domicilio dal terzo acio che 
li fumi leuati da le f eze non peruegniseno a li membri spirituali : Secundario 
per che ha a mouere el pulmone al mouimento de lo hanelito : e questo 
panniculo benche cingha per mezo oblique tamen et non ex directo : e la 
cagione di questa obliquita sie che da questo panniculo insieme cum el 
myrach del quale poi noi diremo se comprimino le feze che sono ne 
lintestini ne Ihora de la egestione como se fusseno tra doe asse de uno 
torchio : E quanto a la parte meza di questo panniculo laquale e neruosa 
e panniculosa e colligato cum el pulmone per darli el mouimento como e stato 
dicto mediante i nerui quah uengono ad esso dal cerebro e da la nucha e per 
questo appare la cagione de la diuersita de el Diafragma e de li altri musculi 
per che li altri musculi nel luocho doue se congiongeno cum el membro quale 
debeno mouere sono como corde e ne li altri luochi sono carnosi per che sono 
facti principaliter a mouere le osse : ma nel diafragma e tuto el contrario per 
che fu instituito principalmente [folio 24 recto] a mouere el pulmone e non le 
ossa, e per questo appare chel diafragma sie rotondo cum una certa longi- 
tudine e che la sua substantia e musculosa e cordosa e che le utilitade sue 
sono tre : Prima acio che sia principio del moto de lo hanelito : Secundo acio 
che diuida tra membri spirituali e naturali : Tertio acio che aiuti el mirach 
ad expeUere le superfluita quale sono ne lintestini. 

Capitulum quintum de anothomia pectoris seu tx)racis continentis 

memhra spiritualia. 

Dicto di li membri che sono contenuti dentro dal pecto ; poniamo adesso 
la anothomia de esso pecto : e disopra habiamo dicto che glie uno paniculo 
chiamato pleura quale copre tute le coste da la parte di dentro : Da poi quello 


panniculo tu uederai le ossa le quale sono di doe maniere cio e le coste e li 
spondili che sono como sponde doue se apogiano le coste lequale sono dodece 
da ciascuno lato cio e septe uere e cinque mendose : Le coste uere sono con- 
tinuate cum li spondili a coprixe et perficere el pecto : ma le mendose non : 
et una costa non attinge laltra ne la extremita acio che meglio se possa 
dilatare e constringere el pecto : Li spondili sono septe che se coniungono 
cum le septe coste uere mediante certe cartilagine lequale sono tra luno e 
laltro : e da queste carthilagine cum le sue ossa [folio 24 verso] se compone 
uno membro chiamato la furcula del pecto facta a modo de una furcula bifur- 
chata ; e ne la extremita sua li e una certa carthilagine facta a modo de uno 
scuto a custodire la bocha del stomaco e chiamasi pomo granato : Da li 
lati de le coste mendose sono certe carthilagine. 

Da poi uenendo a le parte de fuora : sono alcuni musculi di li quali alcuni 
sono a diUatare el pecto e sono dui musculi del Diafragma posti ne le parte 
inferiore del pecto : et hano a dillatare el Diafragma et consequenter el pecto 
ne la parte inferiore doue e una grande spaciosita : Item li sono dui altri 
musculi liquali sono nel collo et hano a dillatare la concauita superiore del 
pecto la quale e picola. Item sono altri musculi ne la schina doue e la origine 
de le coste, e comenzano apresso la origine de la prima costa : Item sono 
molti altri musculi picoli liquali cum difficulta se possono uedere ne la 
anothomia : e tuti quisti musculi predicti sono solo a dillatare. 

Alcuni altri musculi sono a dilatare e constringere e sono situati tra le 
coste perche tra ciascune doe coste li sono doi musculi di liquali uno ha li 
uili latitudinali a dillatare, e laltro ha li uili transuersali a constringere. 

Oltra questi musculi appare la pinguediae le mamille e la cute : La cute 
e la pinguedine e asai mamfesta [folio 25 recto] impero solo noi direme de la 
anothomia de le mamiUe e haueremo fornito la anothomia del secondo domi- 
cilio e del secondo membro principale. 

Capitulum sextum de anothomia mamillarum et de utilitatibus earum. 

La figura de le mamille si e in modo de una 9ucha rotonda per che biso- 
gnaua essere capace del sangue che se ha a conuertere in lacte e la figura 
rotonda e piu capace cha le altre : et etiam per che le mamille sono como 
scuto del core impero doueano hauere una figura piu secura da li nocumenti : 
e questa tale figura e la rotonda. 

Le mamille hebbeno doi capi picoli acio che la creatura potesse suciare 
el lacte : E la substantia sua si e certe carne glandose le quale de sua natura 
sono frigide acio che el sangue douenti biancho in esse e questo non se fa 
senon per infrigidatione del dicto sangue. 

La quantita de le mamille ne la dona e magiore che nel maschio per che 
bisognaua generare el lacte ne la dona e non nel maschio. Et etiam essendo 
la femina piu frigida chel maschio bisogno essere magiore le mamille in esse 
acio che facesseno magiore reuerberatione del caldo al core et per questa 
reuerberatione lo fortifficaseno. 

Le mamille ne Ihuomo forno facte due como in tuti li altri animali che 
generano una o doe creature : ma ne [folio 25 verso] glialtri animali che 
generano piu figlioli sono facte piu mamUle. 

Ne Ihuomo forno situate nel pecto e ne li altri animali nel uentre : e questo 
fu per molte casone : La prima secondo Galieno e chel sangue del quale se 
genera el lacte deba essere ben digesto impero bisogno essere propinque al 
core ne Ihuomo per la cui calidita queUo sangue fusse meglio digesto : ma ne 
11 altri animali molta quantita de tale sangue superfluo ua a conuertirse in 
comi o in altri membri. 



La seconda cagione asegna Aristotiie che li altri animali hano le gambe 
dinanzi molto strette et impero hano el pecto molto stretto : ma ne Ihuomo 
el pecto 6 amplo : onde non potete la natura situare le mamille ne glialtri 
animali como ne Ihuomo. 

La terza cagione si e chel core de Ihuomo hebbe bisogno de essere piu 
deffensato che el core de li altri animali li quali li hano pili disopra impero 
fece la natura le mamille como defensaculo ne Ihuomo che non ha pili inquelle 

Le mamille hano coUigantia cum el core e cum el figato per una certa uena 
che ascende dal figato ad esse mamille : ha etiam dio coUigantia cum la 
matrice mediante carte uene che uengono da la matrice ad esse e procedeno 
quelle uene tortuose acio che continuamente se asuttiglie el sangue e meglio 
se digesta a conuertirse in lacte. 

[folio 26 recto] Tractatus tertius de anothomia tertii membri princi- 
palis scilicet epatis et eidem deseruientibus : capitulum primum 
de anothomia stomaci. 

Veduto de doi membri principali et di li suoi ministri et etiam de li suoi 
domicilii vediamo mo la anothomia de doi altri membri principali cio e 
figato e testicTili et di li membri che sono suoi ministri et etiam de li suoi 
domicilii : E noi determinaremo de tuti dui quisti inquesto tractato per che 
li membri che deserueno a la generatione non hanno distincto domicilio da li 
membri nutritiui : E questo domiciUo comenza dal pomo granato che copre 
la booha del stomaco del quale habiamo dicto e dura per insino al petenechio 
inclusiue includendoli la uirga e li testiculi : et questo e quanto per lo longo , ma 
quanto per el largo dura da uno fiancho a laltro e per el prof ondo dura da la 
cute de lombelico che copre el corpo dinanzi dale coste ingioso per insino 
a laschina de drieto : 

Inquesto domicilio li sono contenuti di molti membri cio e stomaco, 
intestini, figato, fele, milza misinterii, girbo, rognoni, vesica, testiculi, vasi 
spermatici, matrice ne la femina, e la uirga ne Ihuomo de li quali membri solo 
dui sono principali cio e el figato et li testiculi secondo Galieno, o nasi sper- 
matici secondo Aristotiie. 

Noi adoncha sequitaremo secondo el nostro ordine consueto comentiando 
a li membri superiori e descendendo a linferiori. Comentiaremo [folio 26 
verso] adoncha dal stomaco e dal meri che e uia del cibo ad esso stomaco, 
E noi habiamo dicto di sopra che como la cana del pulmone era conducto de 
laiere cusi el meri era conducto del cibo e del poto : E che la bocha de la 
cana del pulmone e la bocha del meri erano congionte insieme per la rasone 
iue dicta. 

La sustantia di questo meri sie pelliculare e moUe como la cana del 
pulmone e pelliculare e carthUaginosa e bisogno chel meri fusse molle acio 
potesse dilatarsi quando Ihuomo piglia tropo cibo, et anche questo meri non 
sta aperta como fa la cana del pulmone ma per la sua mollitie una parte cade 
sopra laltra. 

La substantia del meri e composta de doe tuniche una intrinsecha che ha 
certi uili o neruetti longitudinale che sono facti ad atrahere el cibo : e laltra 
sie exteriore ne laquale sono uili latitudinaU facti ad expellere quello che 
e stato atratto da la tunicha interiore : benche la prima tunicha sie piu prin- 
cipale che la seconda. 

La quantita del meri e magiore che non e la quantita de la cana del 
pulmone per che el meri ua piu longo che non fa essa cana : Onde el meri 


ua per insino al diafragma e desotto da esso se continua cum la bocha del 
stomaco onde el stomaco e incontinenti sotto el diafragma : Et anche el 
meri e magiore in. largheza per che hauea a passare per esso cosa piu grosa che 
non e [folio 27 recto] laiere. 

Questo etiam Meri e posto piu nel profondo uerso le parte posteriore cio e 
uerso la schina doue ua a ritrouare la bocha del stomaco laquale bocha e 
uerso le parte posteriore : per che la bocha del stomaco e ligata ala schina 
ex direct© in el principio de la sua ligatura cio e a la decima terza spondile 
sotto el diafragma : el quele se termina ala duodecima spondile e poi conse- 
quenter procede el stomaco aUgandosi ali spondUi de le rene. 

Questo stomaco sie cella del cibo et e quasi in mezo de tuto el corpo como 
e stato dicto del core : per che essendo como lauezo doue se ha a cocere el 
cibo bisogno essere in mezo acio chel receuesse calore da tute le parte e da 
tuti li membri circumstanti : et non fu posto el stomaco apresso de la bocha 
per la rasone dicta : Tu uederai adoncha el stomaco hauere sopra si el core 
e el diafragma e desotto el misinterio e Hntestini : da la parte dritta el figato 
el quale lo abraza cum cinque sue penole : da la parte sinistra la milza 
laquale li rende calore mediante le sue artharie : da la parte dinanzi ha una 
rethe chiamata el Girbo : da la parte de drieto li musculi de la schina e una 
uena grande e una artharia che passa per la schina como poi se uedera : da 
tuti quisti membri receue calore el stomaco acio che coza bene el cibo. 

E ben chel stomaco sia situato sopra de la Schina niente di meno la parte 
sua superiore declina al [folio 27 verso] lato stancho, e la parte inferiore al 
lato drito : e questo fu per che ne la parte dritta li e el figato molto eleuato 
ne le parte superiore, e la milza ne la parte stancha e piu de pressa : impero 
la parte superiore del stomaco non se potete locare ne la parte dritta per che 
el figato occupaua queUo luocho ma ben se potete locare ne la sinistra cio 
e disopra dala milza doue li era uacuita Item per che disotto dal figato li 
sono glintestini suttili e gracili liquali occupano pocho luocho et iue remane 
una grande concauita impero fu locata la parte inferiore del stomaco iue 
a reimpire quella concauita : Et per che etiam ne la parte stancha disotto da 
la mUza apresse de le rene glie uno intestine molto grosso chiamato colon 
el quale occupa uno grande luocho impero non se potete locare dicta parte 
inferiore nel lato stancho. 

Una altra cagione per laquale el stomaco non fu posto a presso de la 
bocha e perche apresso de la bocha bisognorno essere i membri de lo hanelito 
ad atrahere laiere : Et anche per che el bisognaua che glintestini fusseno 
continuati cum el stomaco, e bisognaua che glintestini fusseno disotto dal 

Et per questo appare che per molte cagione el stomac non fu locato per 
el dritto ma per lo storto e per lo obHquo : la prima si e gia dicta acio reim- 
pisse la uacuita de la parte dritta e stancha : La seconda per che essendo 
Ihuomo de statura dritta non retigniria bene el cibo [folio 28 recto] ma 
subito uscirebe fuori per la bocha disotto : La terza cagione per che biso- 
gnaua chel stomaco receuesse da la milza quanto a la bocha superiore Ihu- 
more melenconico a darli lapetito : et quanto a la bocha disotto bisono che 
receuesse Ihumore collerico dal figato : et impero bisogno che la bocha 
superiore del stomaco fusse dal lato stanco doue e la milza e la bocha inferiore 
fusse dal lato dritto doue e el figato. 

E per questo appare chel stomaco ha coUigantia cum la milza per certe 
nene che portano Ihumore melenconico ad esso : et ha similiter coUigantia cum 
el figato per molte altre uene che li portano el nutrimento dal figato : et ha 
coUigantia cum el core mediante una grande artharia che e posta sotto esso : 
et ha coUigantia cum el cerebro mediante uno certo neruo el quale ua ala 


bocha del stomaco et iue se sparge e diuidese circa la superiore parte de esso 

La figura del stomaco fu rotonda acio che fusse piu tuta da li nocumenti 
extrinseci et acio anche che fusse piu capace per che bisognaua continere di 
molto cibo : Ma non fu perfectamente rotonda per la rasone dicta per che 
bisognaua che una parte decHnasse al lato dritto e laltra al lato stanco impero 
e di figura arcuale in modo de una cucha ritorta e fu molto grande el stomaco 
acio potesse receuere grande quantita de cibo. 

El stomaco e composto de due tuniche : Una interiore laquale e neruosa 
e laltra [folio 28 verso] exteriore e camosa : Et la prima tunica neruosa e piu 
grossa e spessa che la seconda per che hauea a tochare el cibo acio che non 
receuesse nocumento da esso e per che se potesse dilatare e constringere 
secondo el bisogno de la quantita del cibo : ma la tunicha exteriore fu piu 
suttile onde e da notare che la tunicha interiore bisogno essere neruosa per 
molte rasone : prima per che in essa & de essere lapetito e el sentimento e non 
e dubio che meglio se sente la cosa quando senza mezo ocorre al sentimento : 
ma la exteriore f u carnosa facta a digerire et alterare el cibo : la alteratione e 
digestione se puo ben fare per mezo e non occorrendo in mediate a la cosa : 
Questa tunicha adoncha exteriore e piu suttile che la interiore per che 
e aiutata dai membri circumstanti a digerere : non bisogno essere adoncha 
tropo grossa. 

La tunicha interiore e deputata ad atrahere el cibo et a retignirlo debito 
tempo per insino che se digestisse : impero ha alcuni uili longitudinali ne la 
superficie interiore mediante li quali atrahe a se el cibo : e ne la superficie 
exteriore ha alcuni uili transuersali per liquaU ritiene el cibo Et la tunicha 
exteriore ha a digerire el cibo et consequenter ha ad expelerlo quando e 
digesto : impero in essa certi uili latitudinali sono posti per liquali ha ad 
expeUere el cibo digesto : 

La bocha del stomaco superiore e piu lata che non e la inferiore per che 
[folio 29 recto] per la bocha disopra hauea intrare el cibo grosso indigesto e 
per la bocha disotto hauea uscire el cibo suttile e digesto : E quisti doi orificii 
non sono facti molto eminenti ma la parte inferiore del stomaco e piu disotto 
che la bocha inferiore acio chel cibo se retegna et similiter la parte superiore 
del stomaco e piu emiaente e piu insuso che non e la bocha superiore acio che 
essendo el stomaco pieno de cibo inclinandosi Ihuomo cum la bocha in giu 
non ritornasse el cibo fuora. 

Doe adoncha sono le utihta del stomaco : Una ad appetere el cibo ne- 
cessario per tuto el corpo : e questo fa per la tunicha neruosa interiore 
e laltra e a digerere el cibo e questo fa per la tunica exteriore carnosa. 

Capitulum secuvdum tractatus tertii de anothomia intestinorum et 


Dapoi il stomaco li sequitano glintestini li quali sono sei reuoluti cioe 
tri suttili e tri grossi et non fu ne Ihuomo uno solo intestine recto ma furno 
piu e circumuoluti acio chel cibo longo tempo se continesse nel stomaco et 
intestini per che se cusi non fusse bisogneria che Ihuomo fusse in continua 
asumptione de cibo, et in contmua egestione e seria stato Ihuomo molto 
occupato in tale uile operatione Et anche sel fusse stato uno solo intestino 
recto non seria stato tuto el cibo da ciascuna parte de lo [folio 29 verso] 
intestino toco et consequenter non seria stato exsiccata tuta Ihumiditade 
del cibo : Acio adoncha tuta la humidita del cibo sia desiccata et atratta al 
figato e che niente o pocha non rimanga ne le feze : Furno facti piu intestini 


circumuoluti : El primo adoncha intestino e chiamato duodeno et e suttile 
e chiamasi duodeno perche e longo quanto e dodice uolte el dito grosso di 
quelle tale : Et in questo intestino li entra el cibo como e digest© nel stomaco 
per la bocha dc sotto de esso stomaco chiamata portonaria o uero pylerum 
cum la quale se continua questo intestino duodeno. Digesto andoncha el 
cibo nel stomaco se apre questo portonario e manda la uirtu expulsiua del 
stomaco questo tale cibo ne lo intestino duodeno : A questo intestino ua 
uno canale o uero condutto dal fele per el quale se porta la coUera ad esso 
intestino. Da poi questo intestino li sequitan uno altro intestino suttile 
chiamato ieiuno perche e la piu parte del tempo uacuo per doe ragione : 
Prima per che e dritto e non inuoluto : La seconda per che una grande 
multitudine de collera pura uiene ad esso per quello medesimo condutto che 
ua al duodeno : e questa collera mordica lo intestino e fa descendere gioso 
el cibo. 

Dapoi sequita el terzo intestino suttile chiamato ileon per che e situato 
circa gli ilii id est li fianchi : Onde in questo intestino gHe uiene el dolore 
ihaco cio e dolore de fianco e questo [folio 30 recto] intestino hebbe molte 
inuolutione, et anche ad esso peruengono de molte uene picole dal figato chia- 
mate mesaraiche :' E questo fece la natura acio che el figato atrahesse la 
humorosita dal cibo per quelle uene, onde a questo intestino li peruengono 
piu uene mesaraiche che nesuno di li altri. 

Dapoi questi tri intestini sutili sucedeno li grossi : E questo fu facto per 
che quanto el cibo uiene piu descendendo tanto piu douentano dure le feze 
e piu grosse impero bisogno che glintestini inferiori fusseno piu ampli che 
li superior!. 

El primo adoncha intestino grosso che sequita ali suttili si e chiamato 
monoculo, non per che habia solo uno oreficio per che questo seria impos- 
sibile anzi ne ha doi como li altri uno per elquale atrahe el cibo e laltro per 
elquale expelle : ma per che quisti doi oreficii inquesto intestino sono uno 
a presso de laltro como coiuncti e nondispartiti como ne glialtri impereappare 
hauere solo uno oreficio, onde per questo monoculo e chiamato : Et anche 
.chiamato sacco per che pende la sua concauita como un sacco stando li suoi 
orificii de sopra : Questo intestino e situato ne la parte dritta apresso lancha 
e disotto dal rognone dritto. E f u facto acio che retinesse el cibo an9i lo reuer- 
berase a li intestini superiori e prohibisse che non descendesse acio che in 
quilli intestini se esuccasse dal figato la sua humidita como e stato dicto. 

Da poi questo intestino sequita laltro grosso [folio 30 verso] chiamato 
colon per che ha piu colli o uero cellule ne lequale el stercho recceue la sua 

Questo intestino ha de molte inuolutione circa el rognon stancho e poi 
ascende c copre la milza e poi se declina a la parte dritta uendo piu uerso 
le parte exteriore e copre el stomaco. 

E per questo appare la cagione per che fu locato sopra del stomaco e de 
sopra tuti li altri intestini : questo f u per che era piu ignobile de Ualtri, e como 
membro piu ignobile fu posto uerso le parte exteriore et anche per che le 
feze se indurano in esso acio che hauesse qualche humidita dal girbo del 
quale poi noi uederemo. Laltra cagione de cio e che essendo questo intestino 
facto a continere et expellere le feze ma piu ad expelere impero bisognaua 
ad esso uenire piu coUera che hauesse a stimulare la uirtu expulsiua piu che 
ne glialtri : impero sopra di queUo ne la parte dritta una penula del figato 
doue e alligata la cesta del fele como appare al sentimento : e questo fu che 
de sopra de questo intestini li peruenisse la collera oltra quella che ua a la 
sua concauita como etiam ua a le concauita de glialtri intestini. 

La substantia di questo intestino e grossa e sollida facta cusi per la 


uentosita grande che se genera in esso laquale fa dolore fortissimo chiamato 
dolore collico : Et in questo intestino se generano certi uermi longi [folio 
31 recto] et altre manerie de uermi chiamati lombrici. 

Da poi e lultimo intestino chiamato intestino dritto de el quale la ex- 
tremita et oreficio inferiors se chiama ano o uero culo : e uasene uerso el 
fiancho stancho doue poi comenza lo intestino colon predicto. In questo 
intestino recto li sono una grande moltitudine de uene meserayce che uengono 
a sugare se qualche humidita fusse rimasta ne le feze. 

Quisti sono adoncha li sei intestini liquali sono alligati a la schina me- 
diante uno certo membro chiamato misinterio o uero intriglio quasi interiora 
tenens che non solo glintestini ma tute le uiscere sono alligate per questo 
interiglio ala schina et impero questo membro fu composto de uene, corde, 
panniculi, e ligament! acio potesse ligare li predicti membri : Et e etiam e 
composto de una sustantia seposa e pingue acio che li membri duri como sono 
li spondUi non se congiongesseno senza mezo cum li membri molli cio e cum 
li intestini e le altre uiscere acio che el moUe non receuesse nocumento dal 
duro. Le altre uacuita di questo membro sono reimpite de certe sustantie 
glandose, facte etiam acio che sustentino le uene meseraiche che sono disperse 
in questo membro : et forse che sono facte etiam a generare la humidita che 
humetti la feze de glintestini acio che piu tosto lubrichi : et impero uedemo 
che mangiando cibi duri [folio 31 verso] niente dimeno quello che nesce per 
egestione e liquido. 

Capitulum tertium de anothomia epatis quod est tertium membrum 
princijMle : et de uenis orientibus ab eo. 

Vediamo mo del terzo membro principale situate in questo palazo et 
e el figato alquale deseueno tuti li altri membri che sono posti quiue. El 
figato naturalmente e situato sotto el diafragma et non sotto le coste uere, 
ma una parte de esso sta sotto le parte mendose : benche ne Ihuomo morto 
appara essere locato tuto sotto le coste, e questo e per che li membri spirituali 
ne Ihumo rnorto sono molto anihUati et el figato ua a reimpire le uacuita 
derelicte : impero quando tu fai la anothomia tu dei eleuare el corpo morte 
e tirare in gioso el figato acio chel uada al suo luocho naturale. 

La quantita del figato fu molto granda ne Ihuomo per che e molto san- 
guineo e de natura calda e humida. 

El figato sie composto de certe uene diuise e disperse in modo de una rethe 
et le uacuita sue reimpisse una certa carne rossa che e como sangue coagulato : 
Et per queste uene se si sparze el cibo digesto nel stomaco chiamato chile 
cio facto in modo de suco dorzo che cusi douenta nel stomaco, e questo fu 
facto acio che se diuidesse in parte picole che tuto el figato potesse tochare 
tuto quello chilo acio che meglio lo conuertisse in sangue : Ma nel stomaco 
non sono tal uene doue se hauesse a receuere el cibo ma solo [folio 32 recto] 
h fece una concauita per che li cibi che se pigliano sono molto grossi che non 
harebono potuto penetrare per dicte uene. Questa decocione che se fa 
nel figato a conuertere el chile in sangue piu se compisse ne la parte superiore • 
et impero quella parte e piu solida e dura : Hebbe el figato cinque penule 
benche ne Ihuomo non siano sempre diuise che se possano uedere 

Questo figato ha doe parte cio e la parte gibosa e la parte concaua, et ha 
colhgantia cum el core per una certa uena che nasce dal suo gibo e uasene 
al core, et e chiamata uena chifis : Et etiam ha coUigantia cum el diafragma 
alquale sta suspenso Et similiter a li spondiH de la schina ala quale e aUilato 
mediante un certo paniculo : Onde ha dui pannicuU uno chel suspende e liga 


al diafragma e ala schina e laltre chel copre e sel circunda. Dala gibosita 
sua nasce la uena chilis laquale porta el sangue al core de laquale habiamo 
gia dicto. E da la parte sua concaua ne nasce unaltra chiamata porta o uero 
uena concaua e questa uena ha cinque rami : cusi como sono cinque penule 
del figato ne le quale entrano quisti cinque rami E poi quando escono f uora 
del figato sono da poi otto de lequale doe sono molte picole che male se 
possono discernere ma si le altre sei : De lequale una ua ala dextra parte del 
stomaco a nutrire la tunicha sua exteriore et maxime la parte inferiore : 
Laltra uena ua a la milza et e asai grande de laquale nel mezo del [folio 32 
verso] suo transito nasce un ramo che descende gioso a nutrire lintriglio 
e portali el sangue piu aquoso : Da poi quando questa uena sa proxima a la 
milza nasce un altro ramo el quale ua a nutrire la parte sinistra inferiore del 
stomaco da poi sucede piu oltra e uasene ala concauita de la milza et iue 
se diuide in doi rami cio e inferiore e superiore : linferiore ramo descende 
gioso a nutrire el girbo quanto ala parte sua sinistra : el ramo superiore passa 
per le concauita de la milza e diuidise in doi altri rami di liquali uno ua a 
nutrire la parte superiore sinistra del stomaco, Laltro ua circa la bocha 
superiore del stomaco a portarli Ihumore melenconicho per incitare lo apetito : 
Laltro ramo che rimane ua a la milza anutricarla. 

La terza uena di queste sei sene ua al lato stancho e uaseno alo intestino 
recto a sucare se qualche humidita uiuatiua fusse rimasta ne le feze. 

La quarta uena se ne ua a la superiore parte dritta del stomaco per 
nutrirla : La quinta usena ha doe parte una ua a nutrire la dritta parte del 
girbo, laltra parte se ne ua alo intestino colon a sucare queUo che e rimasto ne 
le feze de humidita et anche a nutrirlo : et impero el girbo molto se con- 
gionge cum lo intestino colon ne la parte dritta : La sexta uena sene ua alo 
intestino ieiuno et a lialtri intestini suttili a sucarli e nutrirli. 

La figura del figato debba [folio 33 recto] essere lunare in modo de una 
luna quando e piu che meza. Questo membro ha quatro uirtu una atra- 
tiua per la quale atrahe el chilo a se : La seconda retentiua per laquale lo 
ritiene debito tempo acio che la terza uirtu che e digestiua lo conuerta in 
sangue : La quarta uirtu e expulsiua per laquale manda el sangue a tuti 
i membri a nutricarli : et cum esso sangue manda anche el spirito nutritiuo 
el quale se genera in esso figato. 

Gapitulum quartnm. Tractatus tertii de anothomia chistis fellis. 

El fele si ha uno uase como una cista doue se contiene Ihumore coUerico et 
e apicata a la meza penula del figato acio che depuri el sangue da Ihumore 
coUerico : e fu situate nel concauo e non nel gibo acio che piu facilmente 
potesse mandare la colera aglintestini a incitare la uirtu expulsiua che 
mandi fuora le feze. 

Et ha doe parte cio e el coUo che porta la collera e la uesica chela contiene : 
El collo a certa distantia rimane uno : E dapoi se diuide in doi rami uno ua 
amezo del figato ad attrahere la collera da esso Laltro ramo descende alo 
intestino duodeno et questo se diuide anche in doi altri rami uno ua al 
fondo del stomaco a confortare la digestione e questo ramo e picolo per che 
non bisognaua [foUo 33 verso] andare tropo collera al stomaco per non 
incitare tropo la uirtu expulsiua del stomaco ad expellere, ma solo a con- 
fortare como e stato dicto : Et impero quilli che hano questo rame molto 
grande sono chiamati da medici iiSelici impero che sempre & al continuo 
regurgita su al stomaco la collera : 

E per questo appare che questo membro ha colligantia cum el stomaco, 
intestini e figato e chel se nutrisse per certe uene et artharie che uadeno ad 


esso cio e a la sua concauita : et anche peruengono a lui alcuni nerui a darli 
el sentimento : Onde ha anche coUigantia cum el core e cum el cerebro. 

Questo membro si e di figura oblonga cum una certa rotondita e la sua 
substantia e pelliculare cio e in modo de una pellicula facta per le utilita 

Capitulum quintum de anothomia splenis et de eius uiuamentis. 

Dal late stanco sotto le coste mendose li e la mUza laquale cum el suo 
concauo al lato del stomaco stanco se glie apozia : E quanto ala parte sua 
gibosa e alligata ala Schina et al panniculo dicto siphac mediante alcuni 
panniculi sutUi 

Et non fu posta cusi insu o uero in luocho alto como el figato ma piu 
ingioso : Et e di figura quadrangulare per che ha areimpire la concauita 
sinistra circumstante del stomaco che e di tale figura : ma e piu grossa ne 
la parte disopra et e piu sutile ne la parte inferiore a modo de una lingua. 

E questo [folio 34 recto] membro e composto de una certe carne spongiosa 
acio che megUo receua Ihumore grosso melenconico alquale finalmente e ordi- 
nata, Et anche e composta di uene et artharie molte, & de uno paniculo che 
linuolge Onde appare che la milza ha coUigantia cum el figato, lintriglio, 
girbo, & cum el stomaco, cum le coste e cum el diafragma, et ha anche 
coUigantia cum el core mediante certe artharie che uengono ad esse acio 
chel sangue grosso melenconico per el ca^ore di queste artharie se suttigUasse 
e digerisse : Et anche acio che riscaldasse la sinistra parte del stomaco a 
laquale lui se apogia. 

Fu facto questo membro per molte utilita : Prima acio chel mondificasse 
el sangue da Ihumore melenconico el quale atrahe asi : Secondo fu facto 
a contra operare ala calidita del core e del figato : Tertio acio che excitasse 
lo appetito transmitendo Ihumore melenconico a la bocha de esso stomaco. 

Capitulum sextum de anothomia girbi siue reikis cooperientis 
stomacum, <j& intestina. 

Appare uno certo panniculo chiamato el Girbo o uero la rethe el quale 
copre el stomaco da la parte dinanzi : e ne Ihuomo tuti gUntestini : e 
non ne lialtri animali : E questo fu facto ne Ihuomo per che tra glialtri 
animali de equale quantita la uirtu digestiua piu debUe ne Ihuomo : et 
etiam per che glintestini suoi per la suttiUta de la cute sono piu dispositi 
a [folio 34 verso] receuere U nocumenti exteriori : Et impero appare la 
utiUta di questo membro per la quale fu principalmente facto : et e acio chel 
confortasse la uirtu digestiua nel stomaco e de glintestini reuerberando el 
caldo naturale ad essi : Onde narro GaUeno de uno che fu uulnerato e 
cauato li fu el girbo e da poi che fu guarito non potete mai ben padire. 

Et impero bisogno che fusse composto di tre sustantie cio e prima 
de doi pannicuU subtili acio che continesse gUaltri membri et etiam per 
che douea essere ligiero e che se potesse dUatare : et anche fu spesso acio 
che reuerberasse piu la cahdita aU membri predicti : Secundo e composto 
de una assungia seposa la quale hauesse ariscaldare essendo la natura de 
lasongia molto propinqua al caldo : Tertio e composto di certe artharie 
e uene lequale molto riscaldano. 

Et per questo appare chel girbo ha coUigantia cum el stomaco cum la 
mUza e cum glintestini, Et maxime cum lo intestino colon cum liquali lui 
si termina cooperendoU : Et etia ha colUgantia cum li membri da Uquali 


ha origine : onde nasce da uno certo panniculo carnoso da la schina tra 
el diafragma per che a questo panniculo seglie terminano do extremita 
del panniculo chiamato siphac del quale poi noi diremo : Lequale extremita 
compogono el girbo : Et etiam per che iue glie una uena grande et etiam 
artharia [folio 35 recto] de lequale apresso el stomaco nascono certe uene 
et artharie picole lequale componeno el girbo : Ha etiam colligantia cum lin- 
triglio dal quale nasce la sua songia seposa laquale reimpie le sue uacuita. 

Per insino adoncha qui habiamo ueduto la anothomia del girbo, del 
stomaco, de glintestini, de lintriglio, del figato, del fele, e de la milza andiamo 
mo a glialtri membri di questa terza casa. 

Capitulum septimum de anothomia membrorum urine scilicet renum 
t& uesice et aliorum membrorum deseruentium eis. 

Vediamo la anothomia dele rene. Onde tu uederai che da la uena 
chilis che nasce dal gibo del figato se fa uno ramo grande che descende 
gioso a le parte inferiore, e quando questo ramo e indritto de lerene se diuide 
in doi altri rami di liquali uno ua al rognone dritto e laltro al rognone stanco 
cio e a le sue concauita e chiamase uene emulgente : E gliorificii di queste 
doe uene non sono indritto uno dilaltro ma imo piu elto et e quello del 
rognone dritto e laltro piu basso cio e quello che ua al rognone stanco : Et 
questo fu perche el rognone dritto si e piu de sopra per che el rognone dritto 
e piu caldo cha el stanco, e de natura del caldo e distare disopra benche 
a le uolte acada chel rognone stanco sia disopra al dritto et alhora el rognone 
stanco uira essere piu caldo che el dritto : ben che questo sia [folio 35 verso] 
rare uolte. 

Queste uene deportano la aquosita del sangue che e inutile al nutri- 
mento del corpo a le rene et consequenter ala uesica : laquale esce poi 
fuora per urina : E per che cum questa aquosita e mescolato anche del 
sangue impero bisogno fare a la natura che el se colasse ne le rene in modo 
chel sangue mescolato cum questa aquosita rimanesse, e laquosita sola 
pasasse ala uesica : et impero se tu scindi el rogne ne la parte gibosa per lo 
longo per insino ala concauita tu uederai uno panniculo como uno panno 
raro per el quale puo passare la aquosita ma el sangue non impero quilli 
che hano aperto questo panniculo o uero colatorio orinano sangue. E questo 
panniculo si genera da la uena emiilgente dicta laquale intrando ne la 
concauita del rognone se rariffica in modo de uno colatorio. 

E bisognorno essere dui rognoni e non uno per che era molta quantita 
daquosita laquale uno solo rognone non haueria potuto atrahere sel non 
f usse stato molto grande e non se seria posuto debitamente situare sel non 
hauesse facto qualche eminentia in quello luoco che seria stato molte 

Quisti rognoni sono picoli in comparatione de li altri membri interiori 
e sono de una figura alquanto rotonda acio che fusseno capaci di magiore 
quantita, et etiam che fusse piu tuto da li nocumenti extrinseci ; E furno 
etiam alquanto longhi acio che li suoi oreficii cio e el superiore done entra 
[foUo 36 recto] laquosita e loreficio inferiore done esce haueseno megliore 
distintione : a loreficio di sotto segli continua uno porro chiamato Uritides 
cioe che porta la urina da le rene a la uesica : Onde sono dui porri uritides 
como sono doi rognoni : Et in quisti rognoni ale uolte se genera la preda 
de molte harenule per la calidita de le rene la quale desicca certa humidita 
fleumaticha laquale se genera nel stomaco per indigestione, e poi sens ua 
al figato, et tandem se ne uiene ale rene, et iue per la caUdita de esse rene 


se conuerte in harenule et tandem se conuerte in preda : laquale poi si 
discerne dala preda generata ne la uesica per che la preda de le rene e rossa 
e quella de la uesica e biancha. Li homini adoncha che hano fredo el stomaco 
e calde le rene sono disposti ala generatione de la preda et maxime hauendo 
li meati de lurina stricti. 

Leuate adoncha le rene e ueduti i porri uritides tu uederai che termmano 
al mezo de la uesicha e non forano la uesicha ex directo cum uno bucho 
grande ma cum piu busitti picoli et obliqui facti tra una tunica e laltra 
de la uesica o uero tra el cooptorio e la tunica e non uno indritto de laltro, 
e questo fu acio che quando la uesica fusse plena de urina ritornasse la 
urina indrieto ale rene, anzi quanto la uesica e piu plena de urina tanto piu 
Be chiudeno dicti buchi. 

La uesica e composta de doe tuniche quanto al suo fundo ma quanto 
al [folio 36 verso] suo coUo e composta de carne e musculo Item e com- 
posta de nerui e de uene e de artharie ad atrahere laquosita dale rene et 
consequenter ad expeUerla fuora per la uena. 

E per questo appare che tuti quisti membri dicti cioe uene emulgente 
rognoni porri uritides e la uesica sono facti de la natura a mondificare el 
sangue che de nutrire el corpo de la predicta aquosita e mandarla fuora 
per urina. 

Et impero li rognoni fumo de sustantia e carne dura acio non fusse 
mordicata et corrosa de lacuita de lurina e da alcuni humeri acuti che molte 
uolte se mescola cum essa urina. 

Questi rognoni hebbeno dui paniculi uno che li copre e questo li da el 
sentimento, e laltro chel hga e suspende a la schina et anche questo li da el 
sentire : e ciascuno di questi doi panniculi e composto de uno certo neruo 
che nasce da la nucha de li spondili de la schina in luocho chiamato alchatim 
che e luocho a lo indritto de le rene et etiam e composto de uno certo liga- 
mento che nasce da quiUi medesimi spondili. 

E per questo appare che hano colligantia cum el cerebro e la nucha et 
cum la schina mediante li nerui di li predicti paimiculi, et hanno colligantia 
cum el core mediante certe artharie che nascono da lartharia adorthi e cum 
el figato mediante le uene emulgente, e [folio 37 recto] cum la uesica mediante 
li porri uritide Uquali sono certi canili stricti per liquali passa la aquosita 
urinale da le rene a la uesica como e stato dicto, E questa uesica ha una 
grande concauita laquale e neruosa et el suo cello e carnoso e musculose acio 
che quando bisogna Ihuomo expeUa la urina e quando bisogna lui la ritengha 
et congiongese el coUo de la uesica cum la uirga ne li maschii, nel quale cello 
insieme cum la uirga e uno bucho per loquale se urina : ma ne le femine lex- 
trimita del cello de lauesica se termina apresso a dua dita al oreficio de 
uulua : et el coUo de la uesica ne li maschii e piu lengo che ne le dene. 

E per questo appare che sel se incide la uesica nel cello se puo conselidare 
ma se si taglia nel fondo non si puo saldare, per che el colle e musculose 
e carnoso, et el fonde da la uesica e neruose. 

Et el coUo de la uesica ne li homini ha tre tertuosita, ne le quale se ritiene 
lurina acio che facUmente non esca fuori senza uolunta de Ihuomo ma ne le 
femine non ha sine una tertuosita, et el cello ne le femine e piu large che 
ne li maschii : Et el fondo de la uesica e composto de dee tuniche como e 
stato dicto, e la tunica interiore e dee uolte piu grossa che la exteriere per che 
inmediate techa la urina. 

A la uesica peruengono nerui da la nucha et anche le uene da la uena 
chilis et etiam certe artharie da la artharia adherthi. Et nel ceUe suo e solo 
uno [folio 37 verso] musculo che circunda esse colle del quale la utiUta e a 
retinere la urina secondo el bisegno e la uolunta de Ihuomo, E quando Ihuomo 


uole urinare se relassa quelle musculo : et alhora li musculi del uentre de 
liquali diremo constringeno la uesica e mediante la uirtu expulsiua mandano 
fuora lurina. 

Tractatus quartus de anothomia membrorum generationis capitulum 
primum, de anothomia matricis et uasorum spermaticorum in 

Veduto la anothomia de tri membri principal! e signori li quali cum li 
soi ministri sono producti da la natura a conseruare lo indiuiduo poniamo 
adesso la anothomia del quarto membro principale el quale e facto a con- 
seruare la spetie. Et benche anche noi non habiamo fornito la anothomia 
del domicilio del terzo membro principale per che in uno medesimo domicilio 
quasi sono locati dicti membri cum li suoi ministri Diciamo adoncha che 
i membri de la generatione in alcune cose conuenene ne li maschii e ne le 
femine : prima quanto a la origine per nascono circa le rene in questo modo 
che li nasi che sono ne la parte sinistra e li uasi che sono ne la parte dritta 
nascono desopra de le rene, cio e le loro uene da la uena chilis e le lore artharie 
da lartharia adorthi Onde appare per questo che H uasi spermatid ne li 
maschii e ne le femine sono decusi da el core e da el figato e questa e la 
seconda conuenientia. 

Ma etiam sono difEerenti per che ne le femine questi uasi se terminano a 
la matrice [f ol. 38 recto] nel luocho exteriore doue sono U loro te testiculo anzi 
propriamente parlando non sono ueramente testiculi como ne gli maschii 
anzi sono como testiculi de lepore Onde fuora de la matrice se riuolgono 
e se contexeno e le concauita diquella texitura se reimpiseno di certe carne 
minute glandose : E sono facti ne le femine acio che generino una certa 
humidita saliuale laquale e cagione de la delectatione de cohito ne la femina. 

Da poi quisti uasi spermatid penetrano la matrice per insino a la con- 
cauita e li suoi oreficii di quisti uasi ne la concauita de la matrice se chiamano 
cotilidoni cio e legamenti per che mediante quiUi sta ligata la creatura ala 
matrice : e per questi oreficii uene el sangue mestruo ala femina : Et alcuni 
di questi uasi peruengono a la bocha de la matrice a portar li la humidita 
saliuale gia dicto : Et da queste uene ramificate nascono doe uene da ciascun 
lato cio e una che penetra nel panniculo chiamato mirach et ascendeno per 
insina che peruengono ale mamille a deportare el sangue a quelle : Et nota 
che quanto piu ascendeno tanto piu se acostano a la cute di fuora : et sono 
piu manifeste : ma nel mirach sono piu oculte e questo e contrario ne la porcha 
o altri animali che hano le mamille nel mirach : Queste uene nascono da la 
matrice e se manifestano nel mirach doue sono poste le mamille. 

E dapoi queste uene ascende dal [folio 38 verso] profondo del pecto 
indrito al porno granato una certe uena laquale uene ale mamille a cuocere el 
sangue che se de conuertire in lacto e non appare senon una uena. 

El luocho de la matrice e che le situata ne la concauita del luocho chiamato 
alchatim, laquale concauita e circundata da certi spondUi dela schina per 
insino a la cauda da la parte de drieto, ma da la parte dinanzi e circundata 
da la parte che se chiama petenechio : onde la matrice e locata inmediate 
tra lo intestine recto el quale e como colcitra sua da la parte posteriore e fra 
la uesica da la parte dinanzi et el collo de la uesica e piu eminente cha el 
coUo de la matrice benche la concauita de la matrice sia piu prof onda che la 
concauita de la uesica : et la matrice e posta nel mezo preciso tra el lato 
dritto e el stance. 

Questa matrice ha colUgantia quasi cum tuti li membri superi cio cum 


el core mediante certe artharie e cum el figato mediante certe uene, e cum 
el cerebro mediante molti nerui, e cum el stomaco mediante nerui e uene : et 
ha colligantia cum li membri di mezo cio e cum el diafragma le rene, et mirach : 
per che mediante quisti e alligata ali predicti ha maxime colligantia cum le 
mamille como e stato dicto : Ha etiam colligantia cum li membri inferiori cio 
e cum la uesica mediante el suo collo : et e similiter cum lo intestine colon. 

Et e alligata a le [folio 39 recto] anche mediante alcuni ligamenti grossi 
e forti li quali apresso de la matrice sono larghi e grossi et apresso le anche 
sono suttili como corne che sono nel capo de glianimali et impero sono 
chiamati corni de la matrice. 

La figura sua e quadrangulare cum certa rotondita : et ha el collo inferiore 
longo et hebbe questa figura acio che megho se potesseno distinguere le 
cellule o uero camerette che sono ne la sua concauita e sono septe tre ne la 
parte dritta e tre ne la parte stancha e una ne la sumita o uero mezo e queste 
celule sono certe concauita ne la matrice ne lequale el sperma cum el sangue 
mestruo se possano continere et coagulare et consequenter alligarsi a li 
oreficii de le uene. 

La quantita de la matrice fu mediocre secondo la quantita de la uesica, 
ma e magiore in una femina che in laltra per che la femina che fa figHoli ha 
magiore matrice che la sterile et similiter la femina che e usa al cohito Iha 
magiore che la uergene et similiter la matrice de la giouene e magiore che 
quella de la puta e de la uechia e per altre cagione narrate da medici puo 
essere questa diuersita. 

La sua sustantia e neruosa e pelliculosa acio che se possa dillatare a con- 
tinere la creatura : et e molto spessa e grossa. 

Le parte exteriore de la matrice sono queste cio e U lati difuori aliquah 
sono alligati li testiculi e anche sono li uasi seminarii e [foUo 39 verso] le sue 
come di liquali tuti habiamo dicto : et el suo collo del quale lextremita se 
chiama uulua : e questo collo e longo quanto e uno palmo como e la uirga 
de Ihuomo et e lato e dillatabile : et impero pelliculoso : Et ha le rughe o uero 
crespe in modo de sangue sughe acio che la uirga de Ihuomo nela confrica- 
tione del cohito se le induca tintalatione e consequenter dolceza : Et ne 
lextremita di questa uulua sono doe pelUcole che se lieuano e deprimeno sopra 
el dicto oreficio acio che prohibiscano lo introito de laiere o di qualche cosa 
extrinsecha nel collo de la matrice o uero uesica como la uirga de Ihuomo 
e custodita da la pellicula del preputio. 

E la bocha de la matrice e molto neruosa facta in modo de una bocha de 
uno cagnolo nouamente nato o uero meglio a modo de una tench uechia : 
et e ualata de uno uele suttUe ne le uergene e ne le uiolate se rompe et impero 
se sanguina. 

Facto e adoncha questo membro da la natura per la conceptione : et ne 
Ihomo fu facto anche acio che mondificasse tuto el corpo de la femina dal 
superfluo sangue indigesto el quale se genera in essa per la sua frigidita, e nel 
maschio non e cusi : ma li altri animali non hano questo fluxo mestruale per 
che tale superfluita che se genera in loro se conuerte in peUe in pili in unghie 
in rostri e penne e simili membri di quali Ihuomo e priuato. 

[folio 40 recto] Capittdum secundum de anothomia uasorum sper- 
maticorum et testiculorum in viris seu masculis 

Dicto di uasi spermatid e testiculi de le femine diciamo di quilli di li 
maschii : Onde e da sapere che li uasi spermatid sono de doe manerie, alcimi 
sono uasi che preparano el sperma e quisti descendeno da luochi predicti 


ali testiculi & circa la parte superiore de essi se inuolgeno intanto che fano 
in modo de uno sacho o uero de una bursa e questi non intrano la sustantia 
dili testiculi e questi sono uenosi e neruosi 

Alcuni altri uasi sono dilatorii liquali portano el sperma preparato ne li 
altri uasi dicti a li testiculi e questi se continuano cum li predicti et sono piu 
neruosi : e quanto uano piu ascendendo da li testiculi sono tanto piu neruosi 
et ascendeno per insino a losso del petenechio : et alhora se profondano 
dentro apresso el coUo de la uesica e fiiialiter procedeno al meato de la uirga 
nel luocho che e nel bucho de losso del petenechio e per doe meati che sono 
iue mandano el sperma fora da li testiculi el quale fu preparato prima negli 
altri uasi e mandano quello sperma nel canale de la uirga e poi la uirga el 
manda fuori. 

Et li testiculi ne Ihuomo maschio sono di fuora e non detro como e ne 
le femine onde li uasi spermatid del maschio non sono terminati dentro dal 
mirach o uero dentro dal corpo ma escono fuora e se copulano a li [folio 40 
verso] testiculi como a doi suspensorii o uero contrapeso, Et quisti uasi sono 
cooperti&uelatideuno panniculo chiamato didimo el quale nasce del paniculo 
siphach del quale poi noi diremo, e questo didimo se ha uno oreficio chiuso ne 
la fine de dicti uasi et in processo se dUlata e tanto precede dilatandosi che 
infine di quello se dillatta ala quantita de li testiculi et iue fa una bursa la 
quale se chiama borsa di testiculi : onde appare che questo didimo f u facto 
a continere e custodire li testiculi : et li uasi spermatid che peruengono ad 

Et in questa borsa glie sono posti doi testiculi f acti de sustantia glandosa 
rotondi f acti secondo li medici a generare e produre el sperma per che benche 
el sia preparato ne li uasi spermatid tamen non recceue in essi la debita forma 
specifica ma da li testiculi. Et secondo el philosopho Aristotile el sperma 
perfectamente se produce ne li uasi spermatici e che li testiculi furno facti 
como doi contrapesi a retinere i uasi aper ne la proiectione del sperma. 

Capitulum tertium de anothomia uirgae et de musculis ani : ds de 
quinque uenis emoroydalibus. 

Ultimo e la uirga continuata cum lo coUo de la uesica camoso e e con- 
tinuata cum esso cum molti ligamenti e corde lequale nascono da losso del 
petenechio insieme cum certi nerui [foUo 41 recto] che nascono da la nucha : 
et impero questo membro e molto sensibile et extensible ; Et anche e con- 
tinuata la uirga cum gran uene che nascono dal ramo de la uena che descende 
ale parte inferiore et similiter e continuata cum grande artharie lequale 
nascono da queUa artharia laquale se bifurcha ale doe anche : onde a la 
lingua et ala uirga uengono magiore uene et arthariae che a nesuno altro 
membro a tanto pertanto : Et impero queste uene & artharie nel luocho 
chiamato peritoneon do e tra loreficio del culo et el luocho di testiculi sono 
inuolute e sono molto grande : et iue e el principio de la uirga : Et per 
questo la uirga e tuta cauernosa e le sue cauernosita se reimpino de uentuosita 
laquale se genera in quelle artharie et alhora se driza la uirga : Onde se 
tu scindi per lo longo la uirga insino al suo canale et apparerano dui buchi 
predicti et etiam le sue cauernosita. 

La quantita de la uirga o uero longheza sie duno palmo como e quello 
del collo de la matrice. 

La sustantia de la uirga sie neruosa excepto la extremita sua che se 
chiama preputio. 

Da poi a lextremita delo intestino recto chiamato anus tu trouerai certi 
musculi che apreno & asera o quello oreficio et similiter ne lextremita del 


dicto orefieio li sono cinque uene terminato ad esso chiamate uene [folio 41 
verso] emoroydale per lequale in alcuni homini a certi tempi esce di molto 

Capitulum quartum de anothomia mirach : quod est domicilium 
predictorum duorum membrorum principalium. 

Dapoi che noi habiamo ueduto de doi membri principal! uno che seme al 
nutrimento di li membri a conseruare el corpo e laltro a conseruare la spetie : 
et anche de li suoi ministri resta a uedere del suo domicilio el quale e comune 
a tuti quilli el quale se chiama mirach. 

Questo mirach o uero questo domicilio si e composto de cinque parte cio 
e cute pinguedine uno certo paimiculo camoso e certi musculi cum le sue 
corde et el siphac : de tute queste cinque parte se constituisse uno cooperculo 
et una casa ne laquale se contengono li membri predicti. 

E questo tale domiciUo fu posto di sotto da li altri per la ignobilita di 
membri che se contengono in esso : Onde contiene alcuni membri deputati 
a purgare le ieqe e le superfluita lequale essende graue descendeno a le parte 

Questo domiciUo non potette essere ossuoso ma fu camoso et pelliculoso 
acio che secondo li bisogni se potesse dillatare et intumescere como ne la 
femina pregnante o uero in colui che ha pigliato troppo cibo o uero ne lo 
ydropico o per qualche altra cagione bisognasse infiare el uentre, sel fusse 
ossuoso non se potria fare questo. 

[folio 42 recto] La prima parte di questo mirach si e la cute de fuora 
circa laquale sono da considerare piu luochi : Uno si e corespondente ala 
bocha del stomaco che una cartiligine che copre quello e chiamasi pomo 
granato como e stato dicto. 

Laltro luocho si e la parte che e sopra el stomaco sopra de lombelico circa 
a quatro dita. 

El terzo luocho si e la parte umbelicale cio e done e lombellico cum el 
quale sta alUgata la creatura nela matrice cum le uene de essa matrice : et 
impero ne le parte interiore de lombelico appare una certa uena che se con- 
tinua cum esso, et passa per el gibo del figato e per questa uena se porta el 
sangue da le uene de la matrice al figato de la creatura et inquesto modo se 
nutrisse nel uentre de la matre : Ma questa uena quando Ihuomo e nato se 
priua di sangue per che mancha la sua operatione quale facea alhora : Et 
impero continuamente se ua diminuendo quella uena, onde ne li uechii appare 
molte minore che ne li gioueni : Et simihter cum questa uena descende una 
certa artharia a lombelico de la creatura laquale quando e ne lombelico 
descende gioso e uasene a lartharia adorthi apresso li spondili de le rene 
et di li fianchi e questa artharia simelmente se ua deleguando e continue 
appare minore como e stato dicto de la predicta uena, E questa artharia tu 
uederai exscarnando apresso lombelico et apparerati in forma de uno neruo 
o de una corda [folio 42 verso] EI quarto luocho se chiama sumen, di sotto da 
lo imbilico quatro dita et e una parte ne laquale se terminano alcune uene 
ala cute per le quale la creatura nel uentre de la matre manda fuora le sue 
aquosita : e queste uene e questa tale parte si e piu manifesta ne li puti che 
non sono nati che ne li perfecti perche essendo queste uene frustrate da la 
sua operatione se uadeno anuUande. 

El quinto luocho si e el petenechio doue sono li membri genitali. 

Da poi anche tu hai a considerare le parte laterale cioe li li fianchi e 
li ypocondrii uno da la parte dritto sotto el quale sta el figato e laltro da 
la parte mancho doue e locata la milza. 


Dapoi la cute apparerati incontinenti la pinguedine la quale e molto piu 
grande nel porcho che ne Ihuomo. 

Dapoi et tertio te apparera uno paimiculo el quale e composto de came 
e nerui. 

Quarto di sotto a questo paimiculo li sono etiam octo musculi di liquaU doi 
sono longitudinal! che protendeno per el longo dal clipeo de la bocha del sto- 
maco insino a lossa del petenechio, e quisti musculi non hano gran corde senon 
ligamentale, Quatro altri sono transuersali dui superiori e dui inferiori: 
Li superiori nascono da le parte di sopra a presso le coste et terminano a certe 
corde circa le ossa del petenechio inquesto modo che la corda [folio 43 recto] 
dritta ua alingioso al musculo che uiene da la parte sinistra, et la corda 
stancha ua gioso al musculo che uiene da la parte dritta : Onde le corde se 
incrociano ne la parte inf eriore. Li altri dui muscuU transuersali sono inf erioii 
per che comentiano da le ossa del petenechio et de le anche e se terminano 
a certe corde in questo medesimo modo che la corda dritta ua al musculo 
sinistro e la sinistra ua al musculo dritto, e le corde se incrociano comp e stato 

Doi altri sono latitudinaH cusi dicti per che U fill di liquaU se componeno 
protendendeno secondo el lato : Et uno di quisti musculi e dal lato dritto 
e laltro del lato stancho, e sono piu manifesti et anche la sua origine apresso 
de la schina uerso la parte superiore : e quisti musculi latitudinali insieme 
cum U longitudinal! se intersecano ne 1! anguli dritti. 

La utilita di quisti musculi sie prima acio che deffendeseno li membri 
interior! da 1! nocument! extrinseci, et anche che 1! riscaldaseno reuerberando 
la loro calidita a le parte dentro La seconda e acio che aiutino ad expellere 
le superfluita dal pecto e le superfluita dele feze et etiam ad expellere la 
creatura fuora, e queste sono utilita comune a quisti octo musculi : Ma piu 
particularmente parlando Li musculi [foho 43 verso] longitudinali sono facti 
primo ad atrahere, secondo ad expellere, onde expelleno contrahendo li suoi 
uUi liquali contratti comprimeno glintestini uerso el diafragma como se 
fosseno tra doe mane che li comprimeseno e per questo modo expelleno fuora 
le feze : Et per che glintestini hano bisogno maxime di queste doe operatione 
cio e de atrahere et expellere impero quisti musculi furno grandi. 

Ma li musculi latitudinali sono solo facti ad expellere : & impero sono 
piu apresso glintestini et fano questa expulsione comprimendo la parte da 
laquale deno expeUere : Et per che la expulsione se fa da suso ingioso impero 
furno locati piu tosto ne le parte superiore che inf eriore. 

Li transuersali furno facti a retinere e questo fano mediante li suoi uili 
transuersali, E questo bisogno fare la natura acio che le superfluita gio 
descese non reascendeseno impero fece li dui transuersali superiori et anche 
hebbe intentione che le fe9e non descendeseno molto ueloce mente anzi se 
retignisseno tanto che el figato le potesse bene esuccarle como e stato dicto 
impero fece altri du imuscuB. transuersali inferiori : liquali sono minori che li 
superiori per che magiore fu intentione de la natura a fare che le feze non 
reascendeseno cha che uelocemente non descendeseno. 

La quinta parte de questo mirach [foUo 44 recto] si e uno panniculo 
suttUissimo e molto duro chiamato siphac et f u facto acio chel prohibisse che 
li musculi dicti non comprimeseno i membri natural! e per questo fu neruoso 
acio che se possa dillatere e constringere quando quUli membri se dillateno 
6 se constringeno E fu sutile acio che quelle non 1! agrauasse. Et fu duro acio 
che facilmente el non se rompesse per che quando se rompe accade quella 
passione che si chiama crepatura. 

E fu facto etiam questo panniculo acio che el lighe glintestini a la schina 
et acio che tut! li paimicul! de 1! altri membri interior! che se contengono 

1892 JI 


in esso habiano origine da quello : Et etiam acio chel prohibisca che glin- 
testini non se rompano quando se infiano de uentosita, e perquesto appare 
la anothomia de tuto el mirach el quale e domicilio de tuti 11 altri membri 
gia dicti. 

Tractatus quintus de anothomia partium extremarum ds ossium 
Capitulum primum de anothomia ossium et neruorum quae sunt 

a collo usque ad caudam. 

Expediti 11 quatro membri principali cum li loro ministri e cum li loro 
domicilii. Vediamo mo la anothomia de le parte extreme cio e braza cum le 
mano, et de le cosse cum li piedi ma prima uederemo de le ossa nerui e nucha 
comentiando dal coUo per infino a la cauda. 

Diciamo adonca che el collo fu facto per el pulmone e per la sua cana ne 
li animali che respirano : et inquesto collo sono septe [foUo 44 verso] ossa 
chiamati spondili, et sono piu suttili de glialtri inferiori per che sono 
sustentati da quilli : Et benche siano suttih pur sono molto duri e firma- 
mente congionti acio che non si dislacaseno, et anche che non receuesseno 
nocumento da le cose extrinsece Et quisti spondih benche siano piu suttili 
de li altri pur hano el bucho magiore per che la nucha e piu grossa nel collo 
che in alcuna pare di li altri spondili e questo fu per che iue ha la sua origine. 

Dapoi quisti septe spondih li sono altri spondili che se chiamano spondili 
de le coste e sono dodece secondo el numero de le coste de lequale septe 
sono uere e cinque mendose. 

Da poi sono li spondili de le rene liquali sono cinque, e sono molto 
grossi e grandi per che sono fondamento e sustentaculo de li altri spondili. 

Da poi sono alcuni altri spondili liquali sono ne plichatura che e da la 
schina a la cauda e sono tri minori di li predicti per che se doueano con- 
giongere cum li spondili de la cauda liquali sono picoh. 

Ultimo sono li spondili de la cauda et quiui sono molte diEEerentie de 
buchi per liquali passano li nerui, e queste tale diuersitade se uedeno meglio 
nel corpo cotto o uero perfectamente esiccato. 

Et in ciascuno spondile e posta la nucha la quale e una medula simile 
ala substantia del cerebro senon che e piu uiscosa e piu salda et ha [folio 45 
recto] origine da esso cerebro, el quale essendo diuise in doe parte cio e ne 
la parte dritta e ne la parte mancha impero ne la superficie di questa nucha 
appare uno filo che la diuide per mezo cio e la parte dritta da la parte stancha : 
E fu facta da la natura acio desse el sentire e el mouere a tuto el corpo dal 
capo ingio onde la nucha e ditta uicaria del cerebro. 

Da la nucha in ciascaduno spondile nasce uno pare de nerui che uanno 
a dare el sentire e el mouere a certi e uarii membri. E per che li spondili 
sono iatuto trenta impero sono trenta para de nerui secondo el numero 
di li spondili : et poi dala cauda ne nasce un altro pare de nerui onde sono 
intuto trentauno pare de nerui oltra quelli sei para ditti disopra che nascono 
dal cerebro. 

Capitulum secundum, de anothomia brachiorum et manuum. 

Le braze e le mano sono composti de cute pinguedine, carne, uene, 
corde, ligamenti, ossa. 

Tu uederai una uena che penetra per sotto la lasina del brazo e procede 
per la parte domestica e uasene ala curuatura del brazo et appare ne la 
parte inferiore de gubito e chiamasi basilica e poi protende piu oltra 


descendendo gioso a la mano ne la parte siluestra e uasene tra doi digit! cio 
e el digito picolo chiamato auriculare et el suo proximo digito [f oHo 45 verso] 
chiamato annulare, e chiamasi questa uena iue sylen e coresponde ala 
basilica como suo ramo. 

Vederai simelmente un altra uena che uiene per la parte domestica 
del brazo ne la parte superiore de gubito e chiamasi cephalica per che e 
uacua del capo et nasce da una uena che ascende al capo e questa uena 
piu oltra procede uerso la mano e uassene ne la siluestra parte tra e il dito 
grosso e lindice e chiamasi saluateUa e corresponde a la cephalica. 

Un altra uena uederai ne la curuatiua del brazo in mezo de le predicte 
como uno ramo continuato cum tute doe e chiamase uena media o uero 
uena comune. 

Da poi le uene tu uederai di molti musculi e molte corde grande e grosse. 
Li musculi furno facti a dare el moto uoluntario al quale deserueno etiam 
esse corde. 

Dapoi tu uederai le ossa et comentiando ala spala tu uederai prima 
uno osso chiamato spatula de simile figura como e una spatula de legno 
el quale e largo disotto acio che i^on impedischa el pecto e le coste, et e 
strecto di sopra acio che cum laltro osso che tu uederai chiamato aiutorio 
meglio se firme : et impero ne la extremita superiore di questa spatula 
gUe una concauita superficiale rotonda acio che in esse sia situata la ex- 
trimita de lo aiutorio rotonda del quale el capo primo e rotondo locato ne 
la extremita de losso de la spatula poi nel mezo se obUqua uerso la domestica 
parte acio che nel plicare et [folio 46 recto] amplexare de le cose sia piu 
habile : Et lo extremo di questo aiutorio ha quasi doe eminentie per che 
se congionge cum dui ossi chiamati fociUi, et in mezo de queUe parte emi- 
nente ha piu disopra una certa concauita ne laquale entra lextremita del 
focille inf eriore laquale e facta a modo de uno instrumento da trare laqua 
acio che sia piu ferma la sua coniunctione et el focille inferiore e piu longo 
che el superiore per che linf eriore sustenta el superiore : Ma tuti dui con- 
uegono in questo che ne li extremi sono piu grossi che nel mezo per che 
da li extremi loro nascono ligamenti e iuncture, et nel mezo glie sono mus- 
culi che supliseno a la loro sutilita : Et el focille superiore non procede 
dritamente como Hnferiore acio che sia cagione de plicare la mano et el 

Dapoi questi do focilli glie la resetta de la mano ne la quale sono octo 
ossi in doe schiere cioe quatro per schiera : Dapoi sono le ossa del pectine 
de la mano perche e facta ala forma de uno pectine e sono quatro corre- 
spondenti a quatro digiti per che al dito grosso non corresponde alcuno osso 
di questo pectine per che non e in schiera cum li altri digiti. 

Dapoi sono le ossa de li cinque digiti, et hano tre ossi per digito che 
sono intuto quindice : Da poi sono le corde che uano ale iuncture et ultimo 
la came laquale e molto piu ne la parte domestica, et da li lati ma pocha 
ne la parte siluestra per che plicandosi [f oUo 46 verso] ne la parte domestica 
non recceuesse lesione per la dureza de li ossi e che non accadesse uacuita 
alcuna dai lati e da poi h sono le onghie a coprire la cornosita che e ne 
lextremita de dicti digiti. 

Capitulum tertium de anothomia cossarum tibiarum et pedum. 

Vediamo mo ultimamente de la anothomia de le cosse, gambe e piedi. 
Diciamo adoncha che scorticando le cosse tu trouerai doe uene grande 
che sono ramificate dal troncho de la uena chilis che descende gioso el 
quale quando e nel fine de li spondili dele rene se diuide in doi rami uno 

M 2 


ua ala gamba dritta e laltro ala stancha et similiter se ramifica el troncho 
de lartharia adorthi che descende : e ciascuno di quisti doi rami in ciascuna 
gamba se diuide in doi altri rami uno descende per el dritto e per la domestica 
parte de la gamba et chiamas Saphena per che flobotomata e uacua dai 
membri naturali e genitali et appare questa uena sopra del genochio e sopra 
la oauichia del piede, e desotto nel calchagno et appare anche nel pectine 
del pede. 

Un altro ramo se obHqua et intra apresso la iunctura de la scia ^ o del 
galbue ^ impero e chiamata siatica : ondo per la obliquatione che fa circa 
queste iuncture flobotomata uale ne le sue passione : Et appare questa 
uena intuti i predicti [folio 47 recto] luochi como e dicto de la saphena. 

Ne la parte siluestra ua escarnando e lieua su li musculi e le corde e 
uederai prima losso del petenechio sopra del quale sono fabricati li spondUi 
de la schina et consequenter tuto el corpo ne la parte inf eriore ha una con- 
cauita ne laquale e locata la extremita rotonda laquale extremita se chiama 
uertebro e nel mezo di quisti doi da la parte dentro lie uno certo ligamento 
e questa iunctura di questi doi ossi se chiama scia : et impero el dolore che 
uiene iui se chiama dolore sciatico. 

Dapoi tu uederai losso grande de la cossa el quale e magiore de tute le 
ossa che sono nel corpo per che sustentaculo de tuto el corpo : Et hebbe 
una grande concauita acio che fusse piu ligiero e che hauesse molta meroUa. 
Et per che potesse meglio sustentare non lo fece dritto la natura ma ne la 
extremita fecelo pighato uerso la domestica parte : e nel mezo sie plicato 
e conuexo. 

Dapoi questo osso nela iunctura del genochio sono dui ossi dicti focilli 
de la gamba ma uerso la parte dinanzi di quella iunctura glie uno osso 
chiamato patella facto in modo de una patella acio che la iunctura fusse 
piu forte : e questa iunctura e facta de ligamenti como fusse ligata per 
uno groppo Et el focille che e ne la parte domestica e magiore e piu grosso 
per che ha piu a sustentar el peso [foho 47 verso] del corpo e quello de la 
parte siluestra e piu sutile e curto facto solo chel sia apogio del magiore. 

Da poi lie losso de la caichia cum el quale se congiongeno li dicti focilli, 
et e losso del calcagno grosso quadrangulato sotto del quale e una cute 
grossa e callosa molto. 

Da poi e uno osso facto in modo de una u nauicula quadrangulare 
alquanto longo. 

Dapoi e la rasetta del pede composto de tri ossi e non de octo como 
fu la resetta de la mano perche el pede douea stare firmo e non mouersi 
a retinire qualche cosa como la mano. 

Da poi li e el pectine composto da cinque ossi per che el dito grosso 
e inschiera cum li altri. 

Da poi sono le ossa dili digiti che sono quatuordice cioe dui al dito 
grosso e tri per ciascaduno de li altri. Da poi sono certi musculi e molte 
corde a mouere contrahendo e dQlatando i digiti et ultimo li sono le onghie 
che copreno la camosita de li cime de li digiti como e stato dicto di digiti 
de le mane. E cussi a laude de dio habiamo compiuto queUo che era nostra 
intentione e quello che dal principio noi prometessimo di narrare. 

I These four words are very indistuict. The last is half erased and scia is 


wrifcten sia. 




By Raymond Ceawfurd 

The origin of this ceremony of blessing rings, by the kings 
and queens of England, for the cure of epilepsy and other spas- 
modic disorders, appears to be well attested by the evidence of 
many contemporary records. All alike refer it back to Edward 
the Confessor, or, to be more exact, to the ring which was one of 
the sacred rehcs in the shrine of the Confessor in his abbey of 
Westminster. Caxton, in the Oolden Legend,^ tells the tale of this 
wonderful ring, as follows : 

' When the blessed King Edward had lived many years, and 
was fallen into great age, it happened he came riding by a church 
in Essex called Havering, which was at that time in hallowing, 
and should be dedicated in the honour of our Lord and S. John 
the EvangeHst ; wherefore the king for great devotion Ughted 
down and tarried, while the church was in haUowing. And in the 
time of procession, a fair old man came to the king and demanded 
of him alms in the worship of God and S. John the EvangeUst. 
Then the king found nothing ready to give, ne his almoner was 
not present, but he took off the ring from his finger and gave it 
to the poor man, whom the poor man thanked and departed. 
And within certain years after, two pilgrims of England went 
into the holy land to visit holy places there, and as they had lost 
their way and were gone from their fellowship, and the night 
approached, and they sorrowed greatly as they that wist not 
wMther to go, and dreaded sore to be perished among wild beasts ; 
at the last they saw a fair company of men arrayed in white 
clothing, with two Hghts borne afore them, and behind them there 
came a fair ancient man with white hair for age. Then these 
pilgrims thought to foUow the light and drew nigh. Then the 
old man asked them what they were, and of what region, and 
they answered that they were pilgrims of England, and had lost 
their fellowship and way also. Then this old man comforted 
them goodly, and brought them into a fair city where was a fair 

1 Life of St. Edward. 


cenacle honestly arrayed with aU manner of dainties, and when 
they had weU refreshed them and rested there aU night, on the 
morn this fair old man went with them, and brought them m the 
right way again. And he was glad to hear them talk of the weliare 
and holmess of their king S. Edward. And when he should 
depart from them, then he told them what he was and said : 
I am John the EvangeKst, and say ye unto Edward your king 
that I greet him right weU, by the token that he gave to me this 
ring with his own hands at the hallowing of my church, which 
ring ye shall dehver to him again. And say ye to him that he 
dispose his goods, for within six months he shaU be in the joy of 
heaven with me, where he shall have his reward for his chastity 
and for his good living. . . . And when he had delivered to them 
the ring he departed from them suddenly. And soon after they 
came home and did their message to the king, and delivered to 
him the ring, and said that S. John the EvangeHst sent it to him. 

Shortly after this Edward departed this life, and was laid in 
his abbey of Westminster, where the usual abundant harvest of 
miraculous cures was enacted at his shrine. In the above story 
we have also the explanation of one synonym of epilepsy, the 
'morbus sancti lohannis'. 

The further history of the ring may be gleaned from several 
sources, but notably from a MS. by one Richard Sporley, a monk 
of the abbey, entitled, ' De fundacione ecclesie Westm ', dated 
A.D. 1450, and now in the British Museum.^ 

St. Edward's ring was deposited with his corpse in the tomb 
in A.D. 1066. He was translated at midnight of October 13, 1163, 
when his body was found to be incorrupt. Abbot Lawrence took 
the robes from the body and made them into three copes, and 
gave the ruig as a sacred rehc to the Abbey : 

' Dompnus Laurentius quondam abbas huius loci . . . sed et 
annulo eiusdem (Sancti Edwardi) quem Sancto lohanni quondam 
tradidit, quem et ipse de paradiso remisit, elapsis annis duobus 
et dimidio, postea in nocte translationis de digito regis tulit, et 
pro miraculo in loco isto custodiri iussit.' 

The story of the ring is also depicted in the miniatures of 
a beautiful Ulumiaated Norman-French MS. Life of St. Edward 
the King, dating from the thirteenth century, and now in the 
University Library at Cambridge.^ The single miniature repro- 
duced here (Plate xxxix) shows seven blind men, restored to 

^ British Museum MS. Cotton. Claud. A. viii, fE. 32, 33, and Archaeol. Journal, 
London, June, 1864. ^ MS. Ee. iii. 59. 






































sight, kneeling at the shrine, while a priest reads the Te Deum. 
At the sides of the shrine are figures on pillars of St. John as the 
palmer (left), and St. Edward with his ring (right). No cure of 
epilepsy, so-called cramp, is depicted among the many miraculous 
cures recorded in the MS. The earliest extant records of the 
use of the ring for this purpose date from the reign of Edward II. 

Anstis ^ cites the following entry from the last chapter of the 
Constitutions of the Household of Edward II : ' Item le Roi doit 
offrer de certein le jour de grant vendredi a crouce. vs. queux 
U est acustumez receivre devers lui a la mene le chapelein afair 
ent anulx a dormer pur medicine az divers gentz ' : the language, 
however, of the entry leaves little room to doubt that the custom 
was already an established one. At his coronation, too, Edward II 
offered a pound of gold wrought into a figure representing St. 
Edward holding a ring, and a mark of gold, or eight ounces, worked 
into the figure of a pilgrim putting forth his hand to receive the 
ring : and the presumption is that this gold was to be converted 
into cramp-rings. 

We have detailed accounts of the manner of this ceremony 
of hallowing cramp-rings dating from early Tudor times, and 
there is sufficient evidence in the brief notices of earlier date to 
show that the ceremonial observed by the Plantagenet kings was 
essentially similar. On Good Friday, when the king went to 
adore the cross, he used to make an offering of uSoney, which 
was redeemed by a sum of equivalent value : the money so 
received was converted into rings, which were subsequently 
hallowed by the king. In Tudor times the hallowing of the rings 
took place on Good Friday, so that the offering of the money 
must have been made at some previous time, or this part of the 
ritual may have actually become obsolete. The change of custom 
was effected some time between 9 Edward IV (1470-1) and 13 
Henry VIII (1521-2), and was probably therefore the work of 
Henry VII, who, as we know, materially altered the kindred 
ceremonial of Touching for the Evil. 

A MS. copy of the Orders of the King of England's Household, 
13 Henry VIII, preserved in the Bibliotheque Nationale at 
Paris,^ contains, ' The Order of the Kynge, on Good Friday, 
touching the cominge to Service, Hallowinge of the Crampe 
Rings, and Offeringe and Creepinge to the Crosse '. It is quoted 
1 History of the Garter, vol. i. ^ MS. 9986. 


in extenso in the Northumberland Household Book,^ and also by 
Mansell in his Monumenta Bitualia.^ It runs as follows : 

' First the king to come to the closett or to the chappeU with 
the lords and noblemen wajrting on him, without any sword to bee 
borne before him on that day, and there to tarry in his travers tiU 
the bishop and deane have brought forth the crucifix out of the 
vestry (the almoner reading the service of the cramp rings) layd 
upon a cushion before the high altar, and then the huishers shall 
lay a carpet before y^^ for ye king to creepe to the crosse upon : and 
yt done, there shall be a fourme set upon the carpet before the 
crucifix, and a cushion layd before it for the king to kneele on ; 
and the Master of the jewell house shal be ther ready with the 
crampe rings in a basin or basins of silver : the king shall kneele 
upon the sayd cushion before the fourme, and then must the clerke 
of the closett bee ready with the booke contejminge ye service of 
the hallowing of the said rings, and the almoner must kneel upon 
the right hand of the king, holding of the sayd booke, and when 
y* is done the king shall rise and go to the high altar, where an 
huisher must be ready with a cushion to lay for his grace to kneele 
upon, and the greatest Lord or Lords being then present shaU take 
the basin or basins with the rings and bear them after the king, and 
then deliver them to the king to offer ; and this done the queen 
shaU come down out of her closett or travers into the chappeU with 
ladies and gentlewomen wayters on her, and creepe to the crosse ; 
and that done she shall returne againe into her closett or travers, 
and then the ladies shall come downe and creepe to the crosse, and 
when they have done, the Lords and noblemen shall in likewise.' 

Creeping to the Cross seems to have been practised in noble 
households as well as in that of the king. The following entry is 
found in the Northumberland Household Book ^ {temp. Henry VIII) : 

' Item my Lord useth and accustometh yerely when his Lord- 
ship is at home to cause to be delyveride for the Ofiermgs of my 
Lordis Sone and Heire the Lord Percy upon the said Good Friday 
When he crepith the Crosse iid. Ande for every of my Yonge 
Maisters my Lords Yonger Sonnes after ]d. to every of them for 
their Offerings when they Crepe the Cross the said Good Friday 

Many of the entries in the accounts of the Plantagenet kings 
show that the homage was paid to the Gneyth Cross. This cross 
was held in great veneration, and, according to tradition, was made 
of wood from the true Cross presented by a pUgrim to Richard 
Coeur de Lion : no satisfactory explanation of its name is f orth- 
1 p. 36. 2 Vol. iii. 3 p. 334 


coming. It seems to have been transferred from place to place. 
Under Edward I we find it in the royal chapel of the Priory of 
Plympton : under Edward II in the royal chapel within the Tower : 
under Edward III in the private chapel of the royal Manor of Clip- 
stone, and later in the same reign in St. George's Chapel at Windsor, 
where it was in the time of Henry VII. The purpose of the cere- 
mony is set forth in a Proclamation of February 26, 30 Henry VIII, 
now in the possession of the Society of Antiquaries : ' On Good 
Friday it shall be declared howe creepyng of the Crosse signifyeth 
an humblynge of ourselfe to Christe before the Crosse, and the 
kyssynge of it a memorie of our redemption made upon the Crosse.' 
When Convocation, in A. d. 1536, abolished some of the old cere- 
monies, on the ground that they were superstitious, this of Creeping 
to the Cross was retained as a laudable and edifying custom. 

The following records, taken from the Household Books and 
Account Rolls of the times, serve to establish the continuity 
of the ceremonial subsequent to its first mention in the time of 
Edward II, 

In the Eleemosyna RoU of 9 Edward III ^ occurs the following 
entry : 

' In oblacione domini Regis ad crucem de Gneythe die para- 
sceues in capeUa sua, infra mannerium suum de Clipstone, in 
precium duorum florencium de Florencia, xiiii die Aprihs, vis. 
viijc?., et in denariis quos posuit pro dictis florenciis reassumptis pro 
annulis medicinaUbus inde faciendis, eodem die, vis. : summa xiis. 
viii(^.' [For the oflfering of the lord King to the Gneythe Cross 
on Good Friday in his chapel, in his manor of Clipstone, to the 
value of two florins, on the 14th day of April, vis. viiid., and for the 
pence bestowed in redemption of the said florins for the making of 
medicinal rings, on the same day, vis. : total xiis. viiitZ.] 

Again, in the Eleemosyna Roll of the following year, 10 Ed- 
ward III : ^ 

' In oblacione domini Regis ad crucem de Gneyth in die para- 
sceues apud Eltham, xxix die Marcii, vs., et pro iisdem denariis 
reassumptis pro annulis inde faciendis per manus lohannis de 
Crokeford eodem die, xs.' 

In this entry the name of the almoner is introduced, and the 
form of the account is abbreviated by omitting repetition of the 
substituted vs. 

1 Gent's. Mag., N.S., vol. i ; British Museum MS. Cotton Nero C. viii, f . 209. 

2 MS. Cotton Nero C. viii, S. 212, 213b, and Gent's. Mag., N.S., vol. i. 


And in 11 Edward III : ^ 

' In oblacione domini regis ad crucem de Gneyth in capeUa sua 
in pcho deWyndesore die paraseeues, vs., et pro totidem denariis 
reassumptis pro annulis inde faciendis vs.' 

Here the sum total is omitted : the three entries, though 
mutually explanatory, show how puzzhng becomes a too strict 
economy of words. 

Entries substantially the same as these may be seen in the 
Wardrobe Accounts of 12-14 Edward III.^ 

One more entry from the Account Books of John de Ypres, 
44 Edward III, is perhaps worth quoting, as it seems to point 
definitely to the rings being made in this instance of both gold and 
sUver : 

' In oblacionibus Regis factis adorando crucem in capeUa sua 
infra castrum suum de Wyndesore die parasceues in pretio trium 
nobUium auri et quinque solidorum sterling xxvs. — In denariis 
solutis pro iisdem oblacionibus reassumptis pro annttlis medicinali- 
bus inde faciendis, eodem die xxv.' 

The offering of both gold and silver money would seem to bear 
out the suggestion as to the material of the rings, as we know that 
in later times both metals were used. It is, of course, arguable 
that the larger sum of money indicates only a greater demand for 
the rings. 

Richard 11' s Account Books* show that he maintained the 
practice of his grandfather. The following is from an account of 
the Controller of the Wardrobe in his reign : 

' in denar solut decano capelle Regis pro eisdem oblacionibus 
reassumpt pro anulis medicinal inde faciendis, xxvs.' 

The substituted money seems to have been actually laid on the 
altar, and removed thence to be made into rings : this wiU explain 
payment being made in this case to the Dean of the Chapel Royal. 

Henry IV could ill afford to dispense with any of the preroga- 
tives of royalty, and we find him offering 25 shillings in the chapel 
of the palace of Eltham for the maldng of medicinal rings.* 

It is no matter for surprise that no mention should be forth- 
coming of cramp-rings in the reign of Henry V, most of which was 

1 loc. cit. 2 Record Office, Exchqr. Tr. of R., Mis. Book 203, pp. 150-3. 

* Record Office, Exchqr. Q. R., Accounts 403/10. 

* British Museum Harleian MS. 319 : Household Accounts of Henry IV 
1405-6. ^ 


spent beyond the shores of England, and in the propagation rather 
than in the reHef of disease. A passage, however, in the hterary 
remains of Sir John Fortescue ^ taken from a tract entitled Defensio 
luris Domus Lancastriae, now to be seen in the Cotton Collection 
at the British Museum, and referable to the year a. d. 1462, seems 
to show that the practice had not been allowed to lapse during his 
memory, which ranged over the reigns of Henry IV, V, and VI. 
The translated passage runs thus : 

' Many duties likewise are incumbent on the Kings of England 
in virtue of the kingly office, which are inconsistent with a woman's 
nature, and Kings of England are endowed with certain powers 
by special grace from heaven, wherewith Queens in the same 
country are not endowed. The Kings of England at their very 
anointing receive such an infusion of grace from heaven, that by 
touch of their anointed hands they cleanse and cure those infected 
with a certain disease, that is commonly called the King's EvU, 
though they be pronounced otherwise incurable. Epileptics too, 
and persons subject to the falling sickness, are cured by means of 
gold and silver devoutly touched and offered by the sacred anointed 
hands of the kings of England upon Good Friday, during divine 
service (according to the ancient custom of the Kings of England) ; 
as has been proved by frequent trial of rings, made of the said gold 
and sUver and placed on the fingers of sick persons in many parts 
of the world. The gift is not bestowed on Queens, as they are not 
anointed on the hands.' 

The passage also brings out the fact that the use of both gold 
and silver rings had long been customary. 

We have abundant evidence of the maintenance of the cere- 
mony under Edward IV in a number of separate entries. Thus in 
an Eleemosyna Roll of 8 Edward IV is the following : ' Pro eleemo- 
syna in die parasceves c. marc, et pro annulis de auro et argento pro 
eleemosyna Regis eodem die.' And in a Liber Niger Domus Regis 
Edwardi IV : ' Item, to the Kynge's offerings to the crosse on Good 
Friday, out from the counting-house for medycinable rings of gold 
and silver, delyvered to the Jewell house xxvs.' And again in 
a Privy Seal Account of 9 Edward IV : ' Item, paid for the King's 
Good Fryday rings of gold and silver xxxiii?. vis. vrnd.' Edward 
IV seems to have aimed at fortifying himself upon the throne by 
a liberal use of the Royal Gift of HeaUng, and I have elsewhere 
expressed my belief, in the absence of any written evidence, that 

1 See R. Crawfurd, King's Eml,[]p.jL5, Oxford, 1911. 


it was in his reign, and not in that of Henry VII, as commonly 
believed, that the dole of the angel to those touched by the King 
for the Evil was instituted. Cramp-rings are mentioned in the 
Comptroller's Accounts of 20 Henry VII, but the Tudors certainly 
devoted their healing powers chiefly to sufferers from the Evil. 

There is a passage in the Historia Anglicana of Polydore VergU,^ 
the Italian, who came to live in England in A. D. 1502, and wrote 
his history during the reigns of Henry VII and VIII, which shows 
the nature of the patients for whom these sacred rings were used. 

'Iste annulus in eodem templo (scil. Westmonasterii), multi 
veneratione perdiu est servatus, quod salutaris esset membris 
stupentibus valeretque adversus comitialem morbum, cum tan- 
geretur ab illis, qui eiusmodi tentarentur morbis. Hinc natum, 
ut reges postea Angliae consueverint in die Parasceues, mult4 
coeremoniEL sacrare annulos, quos qui induunt, hisce in morbis 
omnino nunquam sunt.' 

Besides true epUeptics, they were used for those who had palsied 
limbs : this is interesting as suggesting the inclusion of Jacksonian 
epilepsy, and perhaps hemiplegia, and the resulting contractures 
in these conditions may have contributed to the confusion with 
contractures from other causes, such as chronic rheumatism. We 
have to bridge over in some such way the gap between their con- 
ception of ' cramp ' and ours. 

In the will of John Baret of Bury St. Edmunds,^ dated 1463, 
is a bequest to ' my lady Walgrave ' of a ' rowund ryng of the 
Kynges sUver ' ; and also to ' Thomais Brews, esquiyer, my crampe 
ryng with blak innamel, and a part sUvir and gUt.' And in 1635 
Edmund Lee bequeaths to ' my nece Thwartow my gold ryng w* 
a turkes, and a crampe ryng of gold w* all.' 

There are even earher bequests than this of healing-rings,^ but 
not specifically termed cramp-rings : they are simply spoken of as 
'vertuosi'. Thus Thomas de Hoton, rector of Kyrkebymisper- 
ton, in 1351, bequeathed to his chaplain ' j. zonam de serico, 
j. bonam bursam, j. firmaculum, et j. anulum vertuosum. Item, 
domino Thome de Bouthum j. par de bedes de corall, j, anulum 
vertuosum.' TaUsmanic rings, inscribed with the names of the 
three Magi, Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar, were used as preserva- 
tives from epilepsy in Plantagenet times. 

1 Lib. i, chap. 8. 2 Bury Wills, p. 35, Camden Soc, ed. Tymms. 

^ Archaeol. Journal, London, vol. iv, p. 78. 


The royal cramp-rings enjoyed no monopoly in the cure of 
epilepsy, as is shown by an extract from a medical treatise written 
in the fourteenth century : ^ 

' For the Crampe. Tak and ger gedine on Gude Friday, at 
fyfe parriche kirkes, fife of the first penyes that is offerd at the 
crosse, of ilk a kirk the first penye : than tak them al and ga before 
the crosse and say V. pater nosters in the worschip of fife wondes, 
and here thaim on the V. dais, and say ilk a day als mekyl on the 
same wyse : and then gar mak a ryng thar of with owten alay of 
other metel, and writ with in Jasper, Batasar, Altrapa, and writ 
with outen Ih' c. nazarenus ; and sithen tak it fra the goldsmyth 
upon a Fridai, and say V. pater nosters als thu did before and use 
it alway afterward.' 

The 'fife wondes' are, of course, the five wounds of the crucified 

A silver ring, made of five sixpences contributed by five different 
bachelors, conveyed by a bachelor to the hand of a smith that was 
also a bachelor, was another reputed remedy for epilepsy ; and 
its virtue was enhanced, if none of the bachelors knew for what 
purpose or to whom it was given. ^ 

In Berkshire, rings made from a piece of silver collected at 
the Communion found favour, and they were more efficacious 
if collected on Easter Sunday. Devonshire preferred a ring made 
of three nails or screws that had been used to fasten a coffin, and 
that had been dug out of a churchyard.^ 

Cramp-rings hallowed by the King of England enjoyed repute 
beyond the shores of England.* Lord Berners, the translator of 
Froissart, when ambassador to Charles V, writing to ' my Lorde 
Cardinall's grace from Saragoza, the xxi dale of June, 1510 ', says : 
' If your grace remember me with some crampe rynges ye shall do 
a thynge muche looked for, and I trust to bestow thaym well, with 
Godd's grace, who evermor preserve and encrease your moste 
reverent astate.' Among various charms that Charles V carried 
about with him were ' gold rings from England against cramp '.* 

In A. D. 1518 we find the President of the College of Physicians 
lending his patronage to the royal cramp-rings. In a letter to 
the Parisian scholar, Guillaume Bude,* Thomas Linacre writes 

1 British Museum MS. Arundel, fol. 23b, and Genfs. Mag., N.S., vol. i, p. 49. 

2 Gent's. Mag., 1794. ^ grand, Pop. Antiq., ii. 598. 

4 Gent's. Mag., N.S., vol. i, p. 49. ^ Cloister Life of Charles V, p. 109. 

* Brewer, State Papers ; Bvdaei Epistolae, June 10, 1518, 4223. 


that he ' has sent him some rings consecrated by the King as a 
charm against Spasms ' : and on July 10, 1518, Bude replies to 
him from Paris that he has ' received his letter with the rings on 
July 6', and has distributed among the wives of his relatives 
and friends the eighteen rings of silver and one of gold he received 
from Linacre, telling them that they were amulets against slander 
and calumny. 

Even the hard-headed Scot was not proof against the magnet- 
ism of the royal rings. A letter from Dr. Thomas Magnus, Warden 
of Sibthorpe College, Nottinghamshire, to Cardinal Wolsey,^ 
written in a. d. 1526 says : 

' Pleas it your Grace to write that M. Wiat of his goodnes sent 
unto me for a present certaine cramp ringges, which I distributed 
and gave to sondery myne acquaintaunce at Edinburghe, amonges 
other to M. Adame Otterbourne, who, with oone of thayme, 
releved a mann lying in the falling sekenes, in the sight of myche 
people : sethenne which tyme many requestes have been made 
unto me for cramp ringges, at my departing there, and also 
sethenne my comyng from thennes. May it pleas your Grace 
therefore to show your gracious pleasure to the said M. Wyat, that 
some ringges may be kept and sent into Scottelande ; whiche after 
my poore oppyniyoun shulde be a good dede, remembering the 
power and operacion of thaym is knowne and proved in Edinburgh, 
and that they be gretly required for the same cause both by grete 
personnages and other.' 

When Bishop Gardiner was in Rome in a. d. 1529, Anne Boleyn 
wrote him the following letter : ^ 

Master Stephjms, 

I thank you for my letter, wherein I perceive the wUling and 
faithful mind that you have to do me pleasure, not doubting, but 
as much as is possible for man's wit to imagine, you will do. I pray 
God to send you well to speed in all your matters, so that you would 
put me to the study, how to reward your high service : I do trust in 
God you shall not repent it, and that the end of this journey shall be 
more pleasant to me than your first, for that was but a rejoicing 
hope, which causing the Uke of it, does put me to the more pain, and 
they that are partakers with me, as you do know : and therefore 
I do trust that this hard beginning shall make the better ending. 

Master Stephyns, I send you here cramp-rings for you and 
Master Gregory, and Mr. Peter, praying you to distribute them as 
you thmk best. And have me kindly recommended to them both, 

1 GenVs. Mag., loc. cit., and British Museum MS. Cotton Calig. B. ii, fol. 112. 

- Bumet, Hist, of Reformation, part ii, book ii, record 24. 


as she that you may assure them, will be glad to do them any 
pleasure, which shall be in my power. And thus I make an end, 
praying God send you good health. 

Written at Grenwiche, the 4th day of April, 

By your assured friend, 

Anne Boleyn. 
[To Master Stephyns this be delivered.] 

Burnet ^ refers to this letter, as f oUows : 

' When he [Gardiner] went to Rome, in the year 1529, Anne 
Boleyn writ a very kind letter to him, which I have put in the 
Collection (Records No. 24). By it, the reader will clearly perceive 
that he was then in the secret of the King's designing to marry her 
as soon as the divorce was obtained. There is another particular 
in that letter, which corrects a conjecture which I had set down in 
the beginning of the former book concerning the cramp rings that 
were blessed by King Henry, which I thought might have been done 
by him after he was declared head of the Church.^ That part was 
printed before I saw this letter : but this letter shows they were 
used to be blessed before the separation from Rome : for Anne 
Boleyn sent them as great presents thither. This use of them had 
been (it seems) discontinued in King Edward's time : but now, 
under Queen Mary, it was designed to be revived, and the office for 
it was written out in a fair MS. yet extant, of which I have put a 
copy in the Collection (No. 25). But the silence in the writers of 
that time makes me think it was seldom if ever practised.' 

Queen Mary's Manual, of which we shall have more to say later, 
seems to have been the source from which Burnet transcribed the 
Office. In his time it was in the library of R. Smith, titular Bishop 
of Chalcedon. 

Numerous allusions in the records of the De Lisle famUy bear 
testimony to the popularity of cramp-rings in the reign of 
Henry VIII. ^ Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford and afterwards 
Duke of Somerset, writes to Lady Lisle, in 1537 : 

' Hussey told me you were very desirous to have some cramp- 
rings against the time that you should be brought a bedd. ... I 
send by the present messenger 18 cramp-rings, which you should 
have had long ago.' * 

John Husee writes from London on April 17, 1535, to his mistress. 
Lady Lisle : ' I send you by Mr. Degory GramefiUd 59 cramp rings 

' Hist, of Reformation, part ii, book ii. ^ a.d. 1534. 

3 Lisle Papers and Notes arid Queries, 6th series, vol. ix, p. 514. 
* Lisle Papers, xi. 15. 


of sUver, that Christofer Morys giveth you, and one of gold ' ; ^ and 
again, on May 2, 1538 : ' Cramp-rings I can get none out of the 
jewel-house. Mr. WyU^'s says the King had the most part of gold, 
but has promised me twelve silver.' ^ 

In a letter of May 13, 1536, John Husee combines denunciation 
of Anne Boleyn with a promise of cramp-rings to Lady Lisle : 

' Madam, I think verily that if all the books and cronycles were 
totally revolved and to the uttermost proscuted and tried, which 
against wymen hath been pennyd, contryvyd, and wryten, syns 
Adam and Eve, these same were I think verily nothmg m compari- 
son with that which hath been done and committed by Anne the 
Queen. ... I think not the contrary but she and all they shall 
sufEre. John Williams hath promised me some cramp rings for 
your Ladyship ' ; * 

and again, six days after : 

'Your ladyship shall receive of this berer 9 cramp-rings of 
sUver. John WiUiams says he never had so few of gold as this 
year. The king had the most part himself : but next year he will 
make you amends.' * 

This day. May 19, 1536, was the day of Anne Boleyn's exe- 

Margaret Mylynton, in 1516, bequeaths to ' my dame Croche 
my best gown and a kercheve, and my cramp-ring'.* There 
is nothing, however, to show that it had received the royal 

Andrew Boorde, in his Introduction of Knowledge, says, ' the 
kynges of Englande doth halowe every yere crampe ryuges, ye 
which rynges worne on ones fynger doth help them whych hath 
the crampe ' ; and again, in his Breviarie of Health, published in 
1547, but written during the lifetime of Henry VIII : ' The kynges 
majesty hath a great helpe in this matter, in hallowing crampe 
rynges, and so given without money or petition.' Boorde was 
medical attendant to Thomas, eighth Duke of Norfolk, Lord Presi- 
dent of the Council and uncle of Anne Boleyn, and by him was 
recommended to the notice of Henry "VTII, who employed him 
much in State business, but not, so far as is known, in a medical 
capacity. His testimony therefore is pecuHarly reliable, and shows 

1 Lisle Papers, xi. 111. 2 jf)i(i_^ xii. 43. 

» Ibid., xii. 58. * Ibid., xii. 60. 

* Registry of Wills, Archdeaconry of Norwich. 


that Henry VIII maintained the ceremony throughout his reign, 
as is borne out by the scattered references we have adduced from 
other contemporary sources. 

In 1647, after the death of Henry VIII, Gardiner sent a letter 
to Ridley, which contains the following passage : 

' The late king used to bless cramp rings both of gold and 
silver, which were much esteemed everywhere, and when he was 
abroad they were often desired from him. The gift he hoped the 
young king would not neglect. He believed the invocation of the 
name of God might give such a virtue to holy water as well as to 
the water of baptism,' and further he speaks of the rings as endued 
' by the special gift of curation ministered to the king of this 
realm '.^ 

That Edward VI did not relinquish the practice of blessing 
cramp-rings, as has been supposed, and as Burnet submits, is con- 
clusively proved by an entry in the Household Accoimts of the 
year 1553, before his death. Under the heading ' Oblations ' is 
25 shilKngs for the redemption of rings commonly called medicine 
rings, to be made of gold and silver.^ 

It was little likely that Mary would allow a Catholic ceremonial 
to lapse for want of royal patronage. In the Appendix to Illus- 
trations of the manners and expences of antient times in England, 
in the 15th, 16th, and 17th centuries, deduced from the accompts 
of churchwardens and other authentic documents, London, 1797, 
4to, printed in the same year, is a list of the New Year's gifts 
presented by Queen Mary in 1556, among which we find : 

' Item, dehuerid by the queins commandement — to the said 
Robert Raynes, in broken golde, to make crampe rings, etc. Item, 
more deliuerid the same time, to make cramp ringes, in broke plate 
of silu' theise parceUes,' &c. 

But there is further the evidence of the actual existence of 
Queen Mary's Illuminated MS. Manual, in the Library of the 
Roman Catholic Cathedral of Westminster, giving the Office of the 
Blessing of Cramp-rings in Latin, with rubrics in Enghsh showing it 
to be the form made use of by herself. It also contains a miniature 
painting of Queen Mary performing the service of consecration. 
The whole office is transcribed below, A full description of the 
Manual will be found in the Proceedings of the Society of Anti- 

1 Burnet, Hist, of Reformation, part ii, book i, § 12j 

2 British Museum Additional MS. 35184, Household Account, 1553. 

1B92 N 


qmries,"^ at a meeting of whom it was shown and described by 
Sir Henry EUis. Sparrow Simpson has also described it in the 
Journal of the Archaeological Association, 1871. It is a ' small 
quarto volume, eight and a half inches in height by six and three- 
eighths in width'. Cardinal Wiseman, to whom it formerly 
belonged, has written on the fly-leaf, ' Queen Mary's manual for 
blessing cramp-rings and touching for the Evil. Bound 1850.' 
The cover is spangled with roses and fleurs-de-lis, together with 
the Queen's monogram MR. ' The volume consists of nineteen 
leaves of veUum, each surrounded with a rich border, and filled 
either with miniatures or with the two offices which it comprises. 
Then follow four ruled leaves and fifteen plain leaves without 
manuscript. ... On the recto of leaf 1 the royal arms of Philip 
and Mary are emblazoned, surrounded by a garter and surmounted 
by a crown. A rich border containing the rose, the fleur-de-lis, 
and the pomegranate, together with a shield bearing the cross of 
St. George, completes the decorations of the page.' The red and 
white roses represent Queen Mary's double title to the throne of 
England as the heiress of the houses of Lancaster and York, the 
fleur-de-hs her claim to the throne of France, and the pomegranate 
of Granada her descent from Ferdinand and Isabella. The Cross 
of St. George is derived from the shield of the Order of the Garter. 
' On the verso of this leaf is an illumination (Plate xl) representing 
the interior of a chapel with an altar furnished with curtains, candle- 
sticks, and crucifix. At a prayer-desk before the altar kneels the 
Queen ; before her is an open book, and on either side two golden 
basins containing cramp-rings.' Leaves 2 to 10 contain ' certayn 
prayo's to be vsed by the quenes heighnes in the consecration of 
the crampe ryngs '. A study of the rubrics, which are in English, 
suffices ' to show the essentials for the consecration of the rings : 
the prayers, the royal touch, the holy water. . . , The recto of 
leaf 1 1 is filled with an illumination of the Crucifixion with St. Mary 
and St. John. In the border are the instruments of the Passion — 
the spear, the reed and sponge, the hammer and pincers, three nails, 
two scourges, and (a very unusual addition) a centre-bit of the same 
form as that now in use. On the verso of this leaf is a very interest- 
ing full-page illumination. At a prayer-desk, on which is an open 
book, kneels the Queen, turning to the right (the dexter side of the 
picture), wearing the head-dress familiar to us in all her portraits. 

' Series i, vol. ii, p. 292. 

Library of the Roman Catholic Cathedral 


Before her kneels a sufferer, apparently a young man, whose bare 
and swollen neck the Queen holds between her two hands. Behind 
him, holding open the coUar of the patient's coat, kneels the 
" clarke of the closett " in a cassock and gown, and with a tonsured 
head. On the left of the prayer-desk stands " the chaplen", a bald- 
headed, venerable man in a long cassock, a somewhat short surphce 
with full sleeves, and the " stole abowte his neck " ordered in the 
rubric, reading the appointed office. The Queen wears a brown 
dress cut square at the neck, white sleeves, and a lace ruff and waist- 
bands. The office for the heahng follows, commencing on f oho 12a, 
and ending on folio 19a. 

' The rubrics are in red ink, bright and fresh ; and each page has 
a rich border of scroUs, leaves, flowers, and fruit, with occasional 
figures of children, &c. I enumerate the most important subjects. 
FoHo 16, David with head of Goliath, St. George and the Dragon, 
and a child with a skull ; f oho 2&, arms of the city of London ; 
foho 3a, VERITAS TEMPORis IILIA (the Qxieen's favom-ite motto), 
with a sword and sceptre ; foHos 36 and 4a, large terminal figures 
with grapes ; foho 4a, arms of France and England quarterly ; 
foho 46, DNS MiHi ADIVTOR ; folios 5a and 6, portcullis and rose ; 
fohos 6a and 6, pacientia and prvdbtia, with allegorical figures ; 
fohos 7a and 6, charitas and ivsticia ; folios 8a and 6, fides and 
SPES ; folios 9a and 6, eortitvdo and temperancia.' 

With the death of Mary, the ceremonial seems finally to have 
fallen into disuse. There is, however, a passage in the Historia 
Anglicana Ecclesiastica of Nicholas Harpsfield,^ which was written 
entirely in the reign of Ehzabeth, which seems to throw some doubt 
on the point. The words are as follows : 

' Quin et annulus ille, de quo diximus, magna in Westmona- 
steriensi Londini coenobio postea reverentia reservatus, adversus 
comitialem morbum multis profuit : indeque etiam ortum, ut ad 
sacram parasceuen Reges Anghae certos annulos statis quibusdam 
precibus et caerimoniis consecrare consueverint, adversus eundem 
morbum salutares. Quae consuetudo et ad nostra usque tempora 
perducta est, multique huiusmodi annulorum beneficium, nostra 
etiam aetate, senserunt.' [And further the above-mentioned ring 
was reverently preserved afterwards in the monastery of West- 
minster in London, and relieved many of epilepsy. That too was 
the origin of the custom of the Kings of England on Good Friday 
consecrating certain rings with set prayers and ceremonies, for the 

1 Ed. 1622, p. 219. 

N 2 


cure of the same disease. Which custom has persisted even down 
to our own times, and many even in our own hf etimes have derived 
benefit from rings of this kind.] 

Nicholas Harpsfield, though he did not write till the reign of 
Ehzabeth, was born as early as a.d. 1619, so that his words are 
consistent with discontinuance of the ceremony after the time of 
Queen Mary. 

It remains to consider what diseased states were embraced by 
the term ' cramp '. Epilepsy, convulsions, and rheumatism cer- 
tainly. All these terms have in common the idea of muscular 
contraction or spasm, and their relation in usage to one another 
may be represented graphically as under : 

Convulsion \ 

-n, -1 , Cramp = Rheumatism. 

Epilepsy ^ ^ . 

Confusion of these terms is far more marked in medical than in 
lay writers ; but at the same time there is little doubt that the 
conservative sentiment inspired by the royal ceremonial kept the 
term ' cramp ' alive in a sense that was all but obsolete in the 
common diction. 

Chaucer applies ' crampe ' to muscular spasm : 

But wel he felte about his herte crepe . . . 

The crampe of death, to streyne him by the herte.^ 

Linacre, as we have seen, speaks of cramp-rings, in 1518, as 
a charm against spasms, while about the same year Polydore Vergil 
speaks of the royal cramp-rings as a cure for the morbus comitialis. 
Each of these two writers clearly indicates epilepsy. In 1626 
Magnus speaks definitely of cramp-rings as relieving a man lying in 
the falling-sickness, a term habitually applied to epilepsy. Nicho- 
las Harpsfield too, writing in the middle of the reign of Elizabeth, 
speaks of cramp-rings blessed by the kuigs as remedies for the 
morbus comitialis. In all probability royal cramp-rings were used 
for epilepsy and epilepsy only, but it is quite possible, and I am 
inclined to think probable, that other cramp-rings had a less 
exclusive use. 

Bacon's description of cramp in his Natural and Experimental 
History is fairly explicit and obviously does not embrace epilepsy : 
' The cramp cometh of contraction of sinews, which is manifest, 
in that it comes either by cold or dryness.' 

1 Troilus, book iii, 1069. 


Shakespeare recognizes both epilepsy and rheumatism as 
entities apart from cramp. Epilepsy he seems to associate more 
with falling than with convulsion : thus, of the fit that attacked 
Caesar when the crown was offered to him, he writes : 

Gasca. He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at 
mouth, and was speechless. 

Brutus. 'Tis very like : he hath the falling-sickness.^ 

' Cramp ' is used by Shakespeare for muscular spasms or con- 
tractures, and he links the term on the one side to rheumatism, and 
on the other to convulsions, in the following passages : 

For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps. 
Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up.^ 

ParoUes says : 

' In a retreat he outruns any lackey : marry, in coming on he 
has the cramp.' * 

Prospero says : 

Go, charge my goblins that they grind their joints 
With dry conviilsions ; shorten up their sinews 
With aged cramps.* 

' Leander . . . went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, 
and being taken with the cramp was drowned.' * 

Robert Bayford, in his Enchiridion Medicum published in 1655, 
includes both wry-neck and convulsions under the heading cramp, 
but he treats epilepsy separately on the ground that, as we know 
to be the case, it is not always associated with convulsions. He 
has no word ' rheumatism ' at aU. 

Pepys (1664) carried about with him a hare's foot as a charm 
against colic, i. e. against muscular spasm. Among Indians, 
Norwegians, and Central Africans, the foot of an elk was a charm 
against epilepsy. Pepys also recites a charm against cramp : 

Cramp, be thou faintless 
As our Lady was sinless 
When she bare Jesus. 

In this charm the word cramp seems to refer to the painful muscular 
spasms of labour. Pepys, as we know, suffered from cohc, but not 

1 Julius Caesar, i. ii. " Tempest, i. ii. 

3 AU's Well that Ends Well, iv. iii. * Tempest, iv. i. 

6 As 7ou Like It, iv. i. 


from epilepsy, so in using a hare's foot as a charm against colic he 
was probably employing a charm against epilepsy. In like manner 
the ' rheumatic ring ' of to-day seems to be the lineal descendant 
of the cramp-ring of aforetime, and the confusion of nomenclature 
has doubtless not affected its efficacy. EoLk-medicine serves 
rather to confirm than to elucidate the confusion, for in Suffolk 
moles' feet are carried as a charm against rheumatism, but in 
Sussex against cramp. In Devonshire a dried frog is worn as 
a ciu-e for fits. 

BosweU, in his description of Johnson at the time of their tour 
to the Hebrides, uses the word ' cramp ' in its earlier significance. 
' His head,' he says, ' and sometimes also his body, shook with 
a kind of motion like the effect of a palsy : he appeared to be 
frequently disturbed by cramps, or convulsive contractions, of the 
nature of that distemper called St. Vitus's dance.' 

It may be asked how it came about that rings were used in the 
first instance as a remedy for epilepsy. It has occurred to me that 
their use may have originated in the time-honoured belief that an 
epileptic seizure may be aborted by ligature of a limb or part above 
the situation in which the warning ' aura ' commences. Galen, 
Alexander of Tralles, Rhazes, and Avicenna, among the earlier 
writers on medicine, all recommend the measure. 


Certain prayers to be used by the queen's highness, in the consecration of the 


Deus misereatur nostri et benedicat nos Deus, illuminet vultum suum 
super nos et misereatur nostri. 

Ut cognoscamus in terra viam tuam, in omnibus gentibus salutare 

Confiteantur tibi populi Deus, confiteantur tibi populi omnes. 

Laetentur et exultent gentes, quoniam iudicas populos in aequitate, et 
gentes in terra dirigis. 

Confiteantur tibi populi Deus, confiteantur tibi populi omnes, terra 
dedit fructum suum. 

Benedicat nos Deus, Deus noster, benedicat nos Deus, et metuent eum 
omnes fines terrae. 

Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto. 

Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum, 

Omnipotens sempiterne Deus, qui ad solatium humani generis, varia ac 
multiplicia miseriarum nostrarum levamenta uberrimis gratiae tuae donis 


ab inexhausto benignitatis tuae fonte manantibus incessanter tribuere 
dignatus es, et quos ad regalis sublimitatis fastigium extulisti, insignioribus 
gratiis ornatos, donommque tuorum organa atque canales esse voluisti, ut 
sicut per te regnant aliisque praesunt, ita te authore reliquis prosint, et 
tua in populum beneficia conferant : preces nostras propitius respice, et 
quae tibi vota humillime fundimus, benignus admitte, ut quod a te maiores 
nostri de tua misericordia sperantes obtinuerunt, id nobis etiam pari fiducia 
postulantibus ooncedere digneris. Per Christum Domitium nostrum. Amen. 

The rings lying in one bason, or more, this prayer to be said over them. 

Deus coelestium terrestriumque conditor oreaturarum, atque humani 
generis benignissime reparator, dator spiritualis gratiae, omniumque bene- 
dictionum largitor, iramitte Spiritum Sanctum tuum Paracletum de coelis 
super hos annulos arte fabrili confectos, eosque magna tua potentia ita 
emundare digneris, ut omni nequitia lividi venenosique serpentis procul 
expulsa, metallum a te bono conditore creatum, a cunctis inimici sordibus 
maneat immune. Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen. 

Benedictio annulorum. 

Deus Abraham, Deus Isaac, Deus lacob, exaudi misericors preces 
nostras, parce metuentibus, propitiare supplicibus, et mittere digneris 
sanctum Angelum tuum de coelis qui sanctificet ►!< et benedicat ii» annulos 
istos, ut sint remedium salutare omnibus nomen tuum humiliter implo- 
rantibus, ac semetipsos pro conscientia delictorum suorum accusantibus, 
atque ante conspectum divinae clementiae tuae facinora sua deplorantibus, 
et serenissimam pietatem tuam humiliter obnixeque flagitantibus ; prosint 
denique per invocationem sancti tui nominis omnibus istos gestantibus, ad 
corporis et animae sanitatem. Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen. 


Deus qui in morbis curandis maxima semper potentiae tuae miracula 
declarasti, quique annulos in luda patriarcha fidei arrabonem, in Aarone 
sacerdotale ornamentum, in Dario fidelis custodiae symbolum, et in hoc 
regno variorum morborum remedia esse voluisti, hos annulos propitius ►!< 
benedicere et ►$< sanctificare digneris : ut omnes qui eos gestabunt sint 
immunes ab omnibus Satanae insidiis, sint armati virtute coelestis defen- 
sionis, nee eos infestet vel nervorum contractio, vel comitialis morbi pericula, 
sed sentiant te opitulante in omni morborum genere levamen. In nomine 
Patris ►!< et Filii •!< et Spiritus Sancti <ii . Amen. 

Benedic anima mea Domino : et omnia quae intra me sunt nomini 
sancto eius. Here follows the rest of that Psalm. 

Immensam clementiam tuam misericors Deus humiliter imploramus, ut 
qua animi fiducia et fidei sinceritate, ac certa mentis pietate, ad haec 
impetranda accedimus, pari etiam devotione gratiae tuae symbola fideles 
prosequantur : facessat omnis superstitio, procul absit diabolicae fraudis 
suspicio, et in gloria tui nominis omnia cedant : ut te largitorem bonorum 
omnium fideles tui intelligant, atque a te uno quicquid vel animis vel 
corporibus vere prosit, profectum sentiant et profiteantur. Per Christum 
Dominum nostrum. Amen. 


These prayers being said, the queen's highness rubbeth the rings between her 

hands, saying : 

Sanctifica Domine annulos istos, et rore tuae benedictionis benignus 
asperge, ac manuum nostrarum confricatione, quas, olei sacra infusione 
externa, sanctificare dignatus es pro ministerii nostri modo, consecra, ut 
quod natura metalli praestare non possit, gratiae tuae magnitudine efficiatur. 
Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen. 

Then must holy water be cast on the rings, saying : 

In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen. Domine Fili Dei 
unigenite, Dei et hominum Mediator, lesu Christe, in cuius unius nomine 
salus recte quaeritur, quique in te sperantibus facilem ad Patrem accessum 
conciliasti, quern quicquid in nomine tuo peteretur, id omne daturum, cum 
certissimo veritatis oraculo ab ore tuo sancto, quum inter homines versa- 
baris homo pronunciasti, precibus nostris aures tuae pietatis accommoda, 
ut ad thronum gratiae in tua fiducia accedentes, quod in nomine tuo humiliter 
postulavimus, id a nobis, te mediante, impetratum fuisse, collatis per te 
beneficiis, fideles intelligant. Qui vivis et regnas cum Deo patre in unitate 
Spiritus Sancti Deus, per omnia saecula saeculorum. Amen. 

Vota nostra quaesumus Domine, Spiritus Sanctus qui a te procedit, 
aspirando praeveniat, et prosequatur, ut quod ad salutem fidelium con- 
fidenter petimus, gratiae tuae dono efficaciter consequamur. Per Christum 
Domiuum nostrum. Amen. 

Maiestatem tuam clementissime Deus, Pater, Filius, et Spiritus Sanctus, 
suppliciter exoramus, ut quod ad nominis tui sanctificationem piis hie 
ceremoniis peragitur, ad corporis simul et animae tutelam valeat in terris, 
et ad uberiorem felicitatis fructum proficiat in coelis. 

Qui vivis et regnas Deus, per omnia saecula saeculorum. Amen. 


The psalme ' Deu^ misereatur nostri, etc.\ with the ' Gloria Patri '. 

May God take pity upon us and blesse us : may he send forth the light 
of his face upon us, and take pity on us. 

That we may know thy ways on earth : among all nations thy salvation. 

May people acknowledge thee, God : may all people acknowledge thee. 

Let nations rejoice and be glad, because thou judgest people with equity : 
and doest guide nations on the earth. 

May people acknowledge thee, God, may all people acknowledge 
thee : the earth has sent forth her fruit. 

May God blesse us, that God who is ours : may that God blesse us : and 
may all the bounds of the earth feare him. 

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son : and to the holy Ghost. 

As it was in the beginning, and now, and ever : and for ever and ever. 

Then the king reades this prayer : 

Almighty eternal God, who by the most copious gifts of thy grace 
flowing from the unexhausted fountain of thy bounty, hast been graciously 


pleased for the comfort of mankind, continually to grant us many and 
various means to relieve us in our miseries, and art willing to make those 
the instruments and channels of thy gifts, and to grace those persons with 
more excellent favours, whom thou hast raised to the royal dignity ; to the 
end that as by thee they reign and govern others, so by thee they may 
prove beneficial to them, and bestow thy favours on the people : graciously 
heare our prayers and favourably receive those vows we powre forth with 
humility, that thou mayest grant to us, who beg with the same confidence, 
the favour which our ancestors by their hopes in thy mercy have obtained, 
through Christ our Lord. Amen. 

The rings lying in one bason, or more, this prayer is to be said over them : 

O God, the maker of heavenly and earthly creatures, and the most 
gracious restorer of mankind, the dispenser of spiritual grace, and the 
origin of all blessings : send downe from heaven thy holy Spirit the Com- 
forter upon these rings, artificially fram'd by the worlonan, and by thy 
greate power purify them so, that all the malice of the fowle and venomous 
serpent be driven out ; and so the metal, which by thee was created, may 
remaine pure and free from all the dregs of the enemy, through Christ our 
Lord. Amen. 

The blessing of the rings. 

O God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob, heare mercifully our 
prayers. Spare those who feare thee. Be propitious to thy suppliants, and 
graciously be pleased to send downe from heaven thy holy angel : that he 
may sanctify tj* and blesse ►!< these rings : to the end they may prove 
a healthy remedy to such as implore thy name with humility, and accuse 
themselves of the sins which ly upon their conscience : who deplore their 
crimes in the sight of thy divine clemency, and beseech with earnestnes 
and humility thy most serene pity. May they in fine by the invocation 
of thy holy name become profitable to all such as weare them, for the health 
of their soule and body, through Christ our Lord. Amen. 

A blessing. 

Grod, who has manifested the greatest wonders of thy power by the 
cure of diseases, and who were pleased that rings should be a pledge of 
fidelity in the patriark Judah, a priestly ornament in Aaron, the mark 
of a faithful guardian in Darius, and in this kingdom a remedy for divers 
diseases : graciously be pleased to blesse ti« and sanctify iij< these rings, to 
the end that aU such as weare them may be free from all snares of the 
devil, may be defended by the power of celestial armour, and that no con- 
traction of the nerves or any danger of the falling-sickness may infest 
them, but that in all sort of diseases by thy help they may find relief. In 
the name of the Father, >i> and of the Son, >I» and of the Holy Ghost >I< . 

Blesse, O my soule, the Lord : and let aU things which are within me 
praise his holy name. 

Blesse, O my soule, the Lord : and do not forget all his favours. 

He forgives all thy iniquities : he heales all thy infirmities. 

He redeemes thy life from ruin : he crownes thee with mercy and com- 

He fils thy desires with what is good : thy youth like that of the eagle 
shal be renewed. 


The Lord is he who does mercy : and does justice to those who suffer 
^^°The merciful and pitying Lord : the long sufferer and most mighty 
™^ He^will not continue his anger for ever : neither wil he threaten for 

He has not dealt with us in proportion to our sins : nor has he rendred 
unto us according to our offences. 

Because according to the distance of heaven from earth : so has he 
enforced his mercies upon those who feare him. ,. ., . 

As far distant as the east is from the west : so far has he divided our 

offences from us. i ^.i. 

After the manner that a father takes pity of his sons; so has the 
Lord taken pity of those who feare him : because he knows what we are 

made of . ,., , , .• j 

He remembers that we are but dust : man like hey such are his days : 
like the flower ui the field so wil he fade away. 

Because his breath wil passe away through him, and he wil not be able 
to subsist : and it wil find no longer its owne place. 

But the mercy of the Lord is from all eternity : and will be for ever 
upon those who feare him. 

And his justice comes upon the children of their children : to those who 
keep his wil. 

And are mindful of his commandements : to performe them. 

The Lord in heaven has prepared himselfe a throne : and his kingdom 
shall reign over all. 

Blesse yee the Lord all yee angels of his, yee who are powerful in 
strength : who execute his commands, at the hearing of his voice when he 

Blesse yee the Lord all yee vertues of his : yee ministers who execute 
his wil. 

Blesse yee the Lord all yee works of his throughout all places of his 
dominion : my soule praise thou the Lord. 

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son : and to the holy Ghost. 

As it was in the beginning, and now, and ever : and for ever and ever. 

Wee humbly implore, merciful God, thy infinit clemency : that as 
we come to thee with a confident soule, and sincere faith, and a pious assur- 
ance of mind : with the like devotion thy beleevers may foUow on these 
tokens of thy grace. May all superstition be banished hence, far be all 
suspicion of any diabolical fraud, and to the glory of thy name let all things 
succeede : to the end thy beleevers may understand thee to be the dispenser 
of all good ; and may be sensible and publish, that whatsoever is profitable 
to soul or body, is derived from thee : through Christ our Lord. Amen. 

These prayers being said, the king's highnes rubbeth the rings between his 

hands, saying : 

Sanctify, Lord, these rings, and graciously bedew them with the 
dew of thy benediction, and consecrate them by the rubbing of our hands, 
which thou hast been pleased according to our ministery to sanctify by 
an external effusion of holy oyle upon them ; to the end that what the 
nature of the mettal is not able to performe, may be wrought by the greatnes 
of thy grace : through Christ our Lord. Amen. 


Then must holy water be cast on the rin^s, saying : 
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Ghost. Amen. 

O Lord, the only begotten Son of God, mediatour of God and men, 
Jesus Christ, in whose name alone salvation is sought for, and to such 
as hope in thee givest an easy access to thy Eather ; who when conversing 
among men, thyself a man, didst promise by an assured oracle flowing 
from thy sacred mouth, that thy Father should grant whatever was asked 
in thy name ; lend a gracious eare of pity to these prayers of ours : to the 
end that approaching with confidence to the throne of thy grace, the 
beleevers may find by the benefits conferrd upon them, that by thy media- 
tion we have obteined, what we have most humbly beg'd in thy Name ; 
who livest and reignest with God the Father, in the unity of the holy Ghost, 
one God, for ever and ever. Amen. 

Wee beseech thee, O Lord, that the Spirit, which proceedes from thee, 
may prevent and follow on our desires ; to the end that what we beg with 
cor&dence for the good of the faithful, we may efficaciously obteine by thy 
gracious gift : through Christ our Lord. Amen. 

O most clement God ; Father, Son, and holy Ghost : wee supplicate 
and beseech Thee, that what is here performed by pious ceremonies to the 
sanctifying of thy name, may be prevalent to the defense of our soule and 
body on earth ; and profitable to a more ample felicity in heaven. Who 
livest and reignest God, world without end. Amen. 



The value of every new truth or discovery is relative, and 
depends upon the state of ideas or knowledge prevalent at the 
time. Should it go greatly 



beyond this, it may lose much 
in practical effect, like good 
seed falling on unprepared soil ; 
but the discoverer is no less 
worthy of praise though he be 
so far in advance of his fellows 
that they refuse to accept his 
teaching, and persecute instead 
of honouring him. Posterity, 
however, often ignores former 
conditions, especially in an era 
of rapid progress, for the 
quicker the advance the sooner 
will the early stages be forgot- 
ten, however important and 
diflficult they may have been. 

Among those who were so 
far beyond their age that the 
truths they proclaimed not only 
were rejected by the majority 

but brought them into danger was Dr. John Weyer, the first serious 
opponent of the witch mania. He stood almost alone. His attack on 
the witch-hunters, though it marks the turn of the tide, was followed 
by more than a century of cruelty, injustice, and superstition ; yet 
our ideas on the subject are now so entirely altered that it is hard 
to imagine the value and danger of the service he performed, and 
his name was almost forgotten even by members of his own pro- 
fession, when his biography was published by Dr. K. Binz in 1885.^ 

1 Df. Johann Weyer, der erster Bekampfer des Hexenwahns, Bonn, 1885, 2nd ed., 
Berlin, 1896. Also J. Geffcken, ' Dr. Johann Weyer ' in Monatshefte der Comenius 

Effigies Ioannis wierjanno 



Let us try to get some idea of the nature of tlie witch mania, 
that we may better appreciate the courage and intelligence of this 
ancient physician. 

In the second half of the fifteenth century a new age began in 
Western Europe. The revival of Greek, the invention of priitting, 
and the discovery of America gave fresh ideas and new prospects 
to mankind. But, as the sun's rays were believed to breed ser- 
pents in fermenting matter, so amid this ferment of new life and 
light rose a hideous monster, more terrible than any fabled dragon 
of romance or superstition of the darkest ages, which for genera- 
tions satiated itself on the tears and blood of the innocent and 
helpless. This was the witch mania. For two centuries the 
majority of theologians and jurists in Western Europe were con- 
vinced that vast numbers of their feUow creatures, especially 
women, were in league with the devU,. that they had sexual inter- 
course with him or his imps, and that he bestowed on them in 
exchange for their souls the power of injuring their neighbours in 
person or property. They thought it their duty to search out these 
witches, to force from them, by the most terrible tortures they 
covdd devise, not only confessions of their own guilt, but also 
denunciations of their associates, and finally to put them to death, 
preferably by burning. In consequence, many thousands of 
innocent persons of all ages and ranks, but especially poor women, 
were judicially murdered, after being first compelled by imspeak- 
able torments to commit moral suicide by declaring themselves 
guilty of unmentionable crimes, and to involve their dearest friends 
and relations in a similar fate. There is no sadder scene in the 
whole tragicomedy of human history. 

There had been nothing like it in the darkest of the dark ages, 
there was nothing like it among the far more ignorant and super- 
stitious adherents of the Eastern Church. The witch mania in its 
extreme form has been manifested only by the Catholics and Pro- 
testants of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and by some 
tribes of African savages. 

In early Christian times, witchcraft was recognized as a relic 
of paganism, but it was not feared. Christ had overcome the 
powers of darkness, and His true followers need fear no harm from 
them. A canon of the Church, at least as early as the ninth 

Gesdlschaft 3, 1904 ; J. Janssen and L. Pastor, Geschichte des de-utschen Volkes, 
8 vols., Freiburg im Breisgau, 1898-1903, viii. 600 ff. 


century, declared that women who thought they rode through the 
air with Diana or Herodias were only deluded by the devil, and 
that those who believed human beings could create anything, or 
change themselves or others into animal forms, were infidels and 
worse than heathens ; and confessors were instructed to inquire 
into and injflict penance for the belief that witches could enter closed 
doors, make hail-storms, or kill persons without visible means.^ 

In the enlightened sixteenth century, any one who professed his 
disbelief that witch ss could ride through the air, change themselves 
into cats, or make caterpillars and thunder-storms, would have had 
an excellent chance of being burnt as a heretic or concealed sor- 
cerer. St. Boniface (680-755) classed belief in witches and were- 
wolves among the works of the devil, and St. Agobard of Lyons 
(779-840) declared the idea that witches caused hail and thunder- 
storms to be impious and absurd.^ The laws of Charlemagne made 
it murder to put any one to death on charge of witchcraft, and 
in the eleventh century King Coloman of Hungary asserted briefly, 
' Let no one speak of witches, seeing there are none '.' Few, indeed, 
were quite so sceptical as this ; stUl witchcraft was in the Middle 
Ages looked upon by the educated in a half-contemptuous fashion, 
and even those who openly professed sorcery frequently escaped 
with no worse punishment than penance, banishment, or an 
ecclesiastical scourging. 

This may be well illustrated by a story told in the life of the 
learned Dominican, St. Vincent of Beauvais. An old woman once 
(1190-1264) came to a priest in his church and demanded money 
from him, saying she had done him a great service, for that, when 
she and her companions, who were witches, had entered his bed- 
room the previous night, she had prevented them from injuring 
him. ' But how ', asked the priest, ' could you enter my chamber, 
seeing that the door was locked ? ' ' Oh,' said the witch, ' that 
matters naught to us, for we go through keyholes as easily as 
through open doors.' ' If what you say is true,' replied the holy 
man, ' you shall not lack a reward, but I must first have proof of 
it.' With these words, he locked the church door, and began 

1 Jean Hardoviin (Harduinus), Collectio regia maxima conciliorum graecorum et 
latinorum, 12 vols., Paris, 1715, i. 1506 ; H. C. Lea, History of the Inquisition of the 
Middle Ages, 2nd ed., 3 vols., London, 1906, iii. 494 ; W. G. Soldan and H. Heppe, 
Geschichte der Hexenprocesse, 2 vols., Stuttgart, 1880, i. 132. 

2 Lea, loc. cit., iii. 414. " Soldan and Heppe, loc. cit., i. 128, 139. 


vigorously to beat the old woman with the handle of the crucifix 
he carried, asking her, when she complained, why she did not 
escape through the keyhole.^ 

The great Pope Nicholas I (died 867) strongly condemned the 
use of torture to induce confessions, and Gregory VII (died 1085) 
forbade inquisition to be made for witches and sorcerers on 
occasions of plague or bad weather.^ Later, the inquisitorial 
process, combined with torture to enforce denunciations, became 
the chief agent in spreading and maintaining the witch mania. 

The Eastern Church remained in this mediaeval stage, and 
never developed a witch mania. In the West the change seems 
to have been brought about mainly by two causes, the development 
of heresies and the increasing prominence of the devil. 

There is no doubt that the Albigensian and other heresies of the 
twelfth and thirteenth centuries contained Manichean elements. 
It was taught that there were two divinities — one perfectly good, 
the creator of the invisible spiritual world, the other the creator of 
the material world, the Demiurgus, a being capable of evil passions, 
wrath, jealousy, &c., who was identified with the Jehovah of the 
Old Testament.^ It required very little to confound this Demi- 
urgus with Satan, the Prince of this world ; after which it was easy 
to look upon Satan as a being not entirely evil, as Lucifer, son of 
the morning, the disinherited son or brother of God, a natural 
object of worship for the oppressed and discontented.* 

The serfs, equally tyrannized over by bishop and noble, the relics 
of the persecuted sects Waldenses and Cathari,® sought refuge, like 
Saul of old, in forbidden arts, and thus sects of Luciferans, or devU- 
worshippers, arose (especially in Germany and France) whose num- 
bers were exaggerated by the fear and horror of the orthodox.* 

1 See also Lea, loc. cit., iii. 434, on this mildness of the Church up to the four- 
teenth century. 

2 Soldan and Heppe, loc. cit., i. 136. ^ Le^^ Jq^ ^jJ^.^ j g^^ 

* The Paulicians were accused of teaching that the devil created this world, 
but seem merely to have taken such texts as John xii. 31, xiv. 30 ; 2 Cor. iv. 4 
' in their plain and obvious sense '. F. C. Conybeare, Key of Truth, A Manual of 
the Paulician Church of Armenia, Oxford, 1898, 46. 

* The term ' Cathari ' was said to come ' from their kissing Lucifer under the 
tail in the shape of a cat '. Lea, loc. cit., iii. 495. 

« Lea, loc. cit., i. 105, ii. 334, &c. The main evidence is Conrad of Marburg's 
report to Pope Gregory XI, 1233 : ' A tissue of inventions ', but ' apparently 
doubted by no one '. 


At the same time the devil acquired more importance in other 
ways. That fearful calamity, the Black Death, seemed to display 
his power over both the just and the unjust ; while the Great 
Schism in which each pope excommunicated the other, handing 
him and his adherents over to Satan, put every one not absolutely 
certain of being on the right side in reasonable fear of the powers of 

The belief in the great activity and power of the devil and his 
servants the sorcerers was further supported by the vast authority 
of St. Thomas Aquinas (1225-74), whose ingenuity enabled him 
to explain away those ancient canons which seemed opposed to 
the more extreme views. Thus the synod of Bracara (a. d. 563) 
had declared the doctrine that the devil can produce drought 
or thunder-storms to be heresy ; to which the Doctor Angelicus 
replied that though it is doubtless heresy to believe the devil can 
make natural thunder-storms, it is by no means contrary to the 
Catholic faith to hold that he may, by the permission of God, 
make artificial ones.^ 

For these and other rsasons, the devU assumed greater promi- 
nence during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries than ever 
before. Men believed that he might appear to them from behind 
every hedge or ruin, that his action was to be seen in almost all 
pains and diseases, but that he was to be dreaded most of aU when 
he entered into a league with some man or woman. Thus every- 
thing was ready for the outbreak of witch mania when, in 1484, 
Pope Innocent VIII by his bull Summis desiderantes gave the 
sanction of the Church to the popular beliefs concerning witches, 
such as sexual intercourse with devils, destruction of crops, and 
infliction of sterility and disease on man and beast. 

The charge of sorcery had usually been employed in earlier 
times either to check learned men who seemed to be going too far, 
or tending to heresy in their researches, as in the case of the 
physicians Arnold of ViUanova (1240-1312) and Peter of Abano 
(1250-1320), or to crush individuals and societies who were poli- 
tically dangerous, as with Joan of Arc, the Duchess of Gloucester, 
and the Templars — the Church being called in to aid the civil 
power. Now it was the Church which called upon the civil power 
to assist in a crusade agamst witches and sorcerers as being the 
worst and most dangerous of heretics. 
1 Quodlibet, xi. 10 ; Soldan and Heppe, loc. cit., i. 143 ; Lea, loc. cit., iii. 415. 

1892 O 


In the Middle Ages it was held that a man who called up the 
devil, knowing it to be wrong, was not a heretic but merely a 
sinner. But if he thought it was not wrong, or that the devil 
would tell him the truth, or that the devil could do anything 
without God's permission, he was also a heretic, since these beliefs 
a,re contrary to Church doctrine. In the fifteenth century it was 
taught that all sorcerers are heretics, maleficus being, according to 
the learned authors of the Malleus Maleficarupi, a contraction of 
m,ale defide sentiens or heretic.^ 

Nor was the identification of heresy and witchcraft illogical, 
whatever we may think of the etymology. The Church is the 
kingdom of God, heretics form the kingdom of the devil, and just as 
the Church possesses saints who see visions, work miracles, and 
commune with Christ face to face, so there are specially eminent 
heretics, saints of the devil's church, who work miracles and have 
obscene intercourse with their master. All true Christians are 
potential saints, all heretics potential sorcerers, for all have com- 
mitted treason against the divine Majesty, though only some may 
have entered into a definite compact with the enemy. The former, 
if they repent, may hope for perpetual imprisonment ; the latter 
are to be put to death whether they repent or not. 

This view was also of advantage to the Church, for it increased 
the horror of heresy and facilitated its suppression. The laity had 
never entirely reconciled themselves to the sight of their apparently 
harmless neighbours being tortured and burnt for differences in 
abstract belief, but almost every one was ready to torture and burn 
a sorcerer, and local outbreaks of witch-hunting were frequently 
started by mob violence. In 1555 it was declared by the Peace of 
Augsburg that no one should suffer in life and property for his 
religion ; but to take a Lutheran, call him a sorcerer, confiscate 
his goods, and force him by torture to confess that he was led 
into his errors by the devU himself, seems to have been too great 
a temptation for the prince-bishops who headed the ' counter- 
reformation' in South Germany to resist. That this was partly 
the cause of the great witch-burnings in the bishoprics of 
Wiirzburg, Bamberg, Fulda, and Treves is evidenced by the 
large proportion of maile victims, and by the frequent and signi- 

^ H. Institoris and J. Sprenger, Malleus Maleficarum, editio princeps, Cologne 
1486, and frequently reprinted until the end of the seventeenth century. See 
especially pars 1, quaestio 2. 


ficant appearance of the phrase ' is also Lutheran ' in the official 

As soon as the Reformation was established, Protestants vied 
with Cathohcs as witch-hunters. Eager to show that they were in 
no way inferior to their opponents in zeal for the Lord and enmity 
against Satan and his servants, they had the advantage of being 
able to follow the scriptural injunction, ' Thou shalt not suffer 
a witch to live', without previously explaining away ancient canons 
and decrees of Church sjTiods which seemed to throw doubt on the 
very existence of the more typical forms of witchcraft. Nor did 
they hesitate to attack their rivals with similar weapons. If Pro- 
testants were burnt as sorcerers at Wiirzburg, we find the first 
Danish Lutheran bishop, Peter Palladius, recommending the 
zealous members of his flock to seek out the so-caUed wise women 
of their neighbourhoods on pretence of having some disease. If 
then the latter use paternosters, holy water, or invocations of saints, 
they are probably not only Catholics but witches, and should be 
treated accordingly. ^ 

Almost all the victims of the witch mania were executed on 
their own confession, extorted in the vast majority of instances 
by torture or the fear of torture. In England, where torture was 
theoretically illegal, confessions were comparatively rare, and 
nearly all died protesting their innocence. The few exceptions 
prove the rule ; thus Elinor Shaw and Mary Philips, almost the last 
witches legally executed in England, 1705, confessed because they 
were threatened with death if they refused, and promised release 
if they pleaded guilty,^ while others were induced to admit their 
guilt by being kept awake several nights, and forced to run up 
and down their cells till utterly exhausted, methods almost as 
effectual in producing ' a readiness to confess ' as the rack or 
the thumbscrew.* 

Nearly all the confessions were to a similar effect. From 
Lisbon to Liegnitz, from Calabria to Caithness, the central point 
of the story was the ' sabbat', an assembly of witches and sorcerers 
in some barren spot where they adored a visible devU, indulged in 

1 J. Diefenbach, Der Hexenwahn, Mainz, 1886, p. 299. 

2 The story of Elinor Shaw and Mary Philips, as well as many other accounts of 
witchcraft, may be read in two volumes entitled Bare and Curious Tracts illustra- 
tive of the History of Northamptonshire, Northampton, 1876 and 1881. 

3 F. Hutchinson, Historical Essay, London, 1718, cap. iv. 

o 2 


feasts, dances, and sexual orgies, reported what evil they had done 
and plotted more. 

A few examples will therefore suffice, and they may be best 
taken from the Daemonolatria ^ of Nicholas Remy, Inquisitor of 
Lorraine, who burned nearly 900 witches and sorcerers in fifteen 
years, 1575-90. 

He proves the reality of the witch dances as follows : A boy 
named John of Haimbach confessed that his mother took him to 
a sabbat to play the flute. He was told to climb up into a tree that 
he might be heard the better, and was so amazed by what he saw 
that he exclaimed : ' Good God ! where did this crowd of fools 
and lunatics come from ? ' Thereupon he fell from the tree and 
found himself alone with a dislocated shoulder. Otillia Velvers, 
who was arrested soon after, confirmed the whole story, as did also 
Eysarty Augnel, who was burnt the following year. So too, 
Nicholas Langbernard, while going home in the early morning of 
July 21, 1590, saw in full daylight a number of men and women 
dancing back to back, some of them with cloven hoofs. He cried 
out ' Jesus ' and crossed himself, upon which all vanished except 
a woman called Pelter, whose broomstick dropped, and who was 
then carried off by a whirlwind. The grass was afterwards found 
to be beaten down in a circle with marks of hoof-prints. Pelter 
and two other women were arrested and confessed they were 
present, as also did John Michael, who said he was playing the flute 
in a tree, and fell down when Nicholas crossed himself, but was 
carried off in a whirlwind, his broomstick not being at hand. 

' What further evidence ', asks the inquisitor, ' can any one 
require ? ' The only possible objection, viz. that they were phan- 
toms or spirits of people whose bodies were asleep in their beds, is 
worthless, ' it being the pious and Christian belief that soul and 
body when once parted do not reunite till the day of judgement'. 

The food at these sabbats usually included the flesh of unbap- 
tized children, and was always abominable. A certain Morel said 
he was obliged to spit it out, at which the demon was much en- 
raged. ' Dancing opens a large window to wickedness,' and is 
therefore specially encouraged by the devil, but the dances cause 
great exhaustion, just as his feasts cause loathing, and his money 
changes to dung or potsherds. ' Barberina Rahel, and nearly all 
others, declared they had to lie in bed two days after a witch dance, 
^ Daemonolatriae libri tres, Lj-ons, 1595. 


but even the oldest cannot excuse themselves, and the devil beats 
them if they are lazy.' The music is horrible; every one sings or 
plays what he likes, a favourite method being to drum on horse 
skulls or trees. Sometimes the devil gives a concert of his own, at 
which all are required to applaud and show pleasure ; those who 
do not are beaten so that they are sore for two days, as Joanna 
Gransandeau confessed. 

All are compelled to attend and give an account of their evil 
deeds under heavy penalties. C. G. said 'he was beaten till he 
nearly died for failing to attend a sabbat, and for curing a girl whom 
he had been told to poison. The devil also carried him up into the 
air over the river Moselle, and threatened to drop him unless he 
swore to poison a certain person. ' The witch Belhoria was attacked 
by dropsy because she refused to poison her husband. If they 
failed in their attempts on others, they were compelled to poison 
their own children, or destroy their own property. 

Antonius Welch was asked to lend his garden for a witch dance. 
He refused, and found it full of snails and caterpillars. Men of 
little faith have objected that only God can create, for ' without 
Him nothing is made that was made ' ; but why should not demons 
collect vast numbers of insects in a moment ? Look at the well- 
known rain of frogs, blood, &c. This is doubtless done by devils 
out of mere sport : how much more would they do for love of harm ? 
The making of thunder-storms is harder to believe, but has been 
admitted by more than 200 condemned witches and sorcerers. 
Almost aU confessed that they could creep into locked rooms and 
houses in the form of smaU animals, and resuming their natural 
shape commit aU sorts of crimes, showing, says Remy, what a peril 
they are to mankind. 

A worthy comrade of Remy was Peter Binsfeld, suffragan 
Bishop of Treves and foremost opponent of John Weyer. He is 
said to have burnt no fewer than 6,500 persons and to have so 
desolated his diocese that in many villages round Treves there was 
scarcely a woman left. His Tractatits de confessionibus malefico- 
rvJm ^ begins with the following case, which with those mentioned 
above affords a complete view of the usual witch confessions. 
John Kuno Meisenbein, a youth about eighteen years old, was 
studying ' poetry and the humaner letters ' at the High School in 
Treves, when he confessed to the authorities that his mother, 

1 Treves, 1595. 


brother, sister, and self were all in league with the devil. He said 
that in his ninth year his mother had initiated him as a sorcerer, 
and had carried him up the chimney on a goat to a heath near 
Treves, where he took part in the usual sabbat and had intercourse 
with a female demon named Capribarba. The mother, Anna 
Meisenbein, a woman of good position, had already escaped to 
Cologne, but a son and daughter were arrested, strangled, and 
burned. ' They died with much sorrow and penitence.' The 
eldest son, John Kuno, thereupon urged the judges to use all means 
to captm-e his mothsr, ' that by punishment and momentary death 
in this world she might escape eternal damnation '. 

Moved by this most creditable and merciful petition (honestis- 
sima et plenissima misericordiae petitione excitatus), th3 prior wrote 
to his friends at Cologne, and the unhappy woman was arrested and 
taken back to Treves. At first she protested her innocence, ' but 
when more severe tortures were employed ' she made the usual 
admissions. Having lost a baby, she had, for a moment, doubted 
the goodness of God. Whereupon a man in black raiment ap- 
peared at the side of the bed, and promised if she wotdd renounce 
God and serve him he would give her peace of mind. She did so, 
and he became her lover, and gave her money, which howevsr 
vanished. Ha called himself Fedderhans, and had asses' feet. 
Then follows the usual story of the sabbat. ' This woman ', con- 
cludes the bishop, ' was burnt alive October 20, 1590, and had a 
good end.' They offered to behead John Kuno as a reward for his 
filial piety and repentance, but he said he was unworthy of such 
a favour and was therefore strangled and burnt. ' He had a most 
edifying end,' says the bishop, who proceeds to comment upon 
sexual intercourse between witches, sorcerers, and demons, ' which 
is so certain that it is an impudence to deny it, as St. Augustine 
saith,^ being supported by the confessions of learned and imlearned, 
and by aU the doctors of the Church, though a few medical men, 
advocates of the devil's kingdom [an obvious reference to Weyer, 
whom he abuses in the preface], have dared to deny it'.^ 

It is not our purpose to try and discover what amount of truth 
is contained in the immense farrago of absurdities comprised ia the 

1 Civ. Dei, xv. 23. 

2 Peter Binsfeld, Tractatus de confessionibus maleficorum, Treves, 1595, pp. 37- 
44, 230, &c. Binsfeld often refers to this case as proving the reality of dLputed 
forms of witchcraft and the soul-saving work of the witch-hunters. 


witch confessions. Actual nocturnal meetings of peasants, either 
to celebrate heathen rites or to plot against their oppressors, or 
merely to enjoy rude dances and music, as the negro in the Southern 
States was supposed to play the banjo nightly after his labours on 
the plantation, may or may not have assisted in spreading and 
confirming the beHef in the sabbat, but they were not necessary. 
The whole story of chUd murder, obscene worship of a demon, 
dances and sexual orgies, was ready to hand long before. It had 
been applied in classic times to the worshippers of Isis and Bacchus, 
by the pagans to the early Christians, by the orthodox to the first 
heretics, to the J>3ws, to the Templars, and in our own day we have 
seen very similar charges brought against the Freemasons. All 
these sets of people had known meeting-places — the witches had 
none ; they must therefore meet on some barren moor or mountain 
and be carried there sup ernatur ally. Once started, the belief 
spread rapidly. Indeed we know from contemporary writers that 
it was a common subject of vUlage gossip, and if any wretched 
victim had any doubt as to what she was expected to confess, 
the gaoler and judges were always ready with hints or leading 

One learned German ^ has attributed the whole witch mania to 
the Datura Stramonium, or thorn-apple, a plant introduced into 
Europe about this time. Women dosed themselves with this drug, 
or applied it in ointments, and forthwith had hallucinations of 
broomstick rides and witch dances. Others look upon belladonna 
as the principal agent, and one ardent investigator took dangerous 
doses of it in the hope of exp3rienctng the adventures of a mediaeval 
sorcerer, but without definite effect. A similar experiment has 
recently been made by Kiesewetter. the historian of 'Spiritualism'. 
He used the witch ointments described by Baptista Porta and 
others, but could produce nothing more diabolical than dreams of 
travelling in an express train. ^ Others, again, have supposed that 
the badly baked rye bread of the period must have produced an 
immense amount of nightmare among the poorer classes. The 
power of suggestion, doubtless, had a very real influence both on 
the victims and their judges, and with the aid of narcotics may not 
infrequently have produced vivid dreams of dancing and other 
intercourse with demons. 

1 L. Meyer, Die Periode der Hexenprocesse, Hannover, 1882. 

2 K. Kiesewetter, Die Geheimwissenschaften, Leipzig, 1895, p. 579 f . 


No doubt many persons were quite ready to become witches 
or sorcerers, and some reaUy believed tbey had acquired such 
powers. Cases are recorded in which formal agreements, duly 
signed in blood, and awaiting the devil's acceptance, were dis- 
covered, and resulted in the arrest and burning of the would-be 
wizard. Others took pleasure in the terror the reputed powers 
inspired, and may have sometimes caused or increased it by the 
use of actual poisons. 

But these formed but a small minority of the vast army of 
victims ; and even when some real criminal was arrested or some 
half-insane person voluntarily ' confessed ', she was encouraged or 
compelled to denounce her supposed associates, and thus often 
involved scores of innocent acquaintances in her own awful fate. 

The witch-hiuiters are not to be blamed for believing in witch- 
craft, or even for carrjdng out the scriptural injunction ' Thou shalt 
not suffer a witch to live '. It is the methods they employed, com- 
pared with which the procedure of a Jeffreys or a Caiaphas was 
just and merciful, which cannot be excused by any talk about the 
spirit of the age, which brought agony and death to many thou- 
sands of innocent men, women and little children, and which excited 
the fiery and righteous indignation of Dr. John Weyer. 

According to Pascal, men never do wrong so thoroughly and 
so cheerfully as when they are obeying the promptings of a false 
principle of conscience. To which we may add that men are never 
more cruel and unjust than when they are in a fright. The witch- 
himters, most of them at least, were pious and conscientious men. 
They appeal to God, the Church, and the Bible at every step. 
Nicholas Remy, for instance, after torturing and burning over 800 
of his f eUow creatures, retired from work thinking he had done God 
and man good service. But one thing troubled his conscience. 
He had spared the lives of certain yovuig children, and merely 
ordered them to be scourged naked three times roimd the place 
where their parents were biirning. He is convinced that this was 
wrong, and that they will all grow up into witches and sorcerers. 
Besides, if God sent two she-bears to slay the forty and two children 
who mocked Elisha, of how much greater punishment are those 
worthy who have done despite to God, His Mother, the saints, and 
the Cathohc religion?^ He hopes his sinful clemency will not 
become a precedent — a fear which was quite unnecessary, for scores 

^ Op. cit., ii. 2 (p. 200). 


of children under twelve were burnt for witchcraft ; and the one 
plea which even then respited the most atrocious murderess did 
not always avail a witch, since it was believed that her future child, 
if not the actual offspring of the devil, would infallibly belong to his 

But the witch-hunters were urged on by fear as wsU as by piety, 
for not only did they thmk themselves exposed to personal attacks 
from the devil and his allies, but they believed there was a vast 
and increasing society of men and women in league with the evil 
one, and that the fate of the world depended on its suppression. 

AH the machinery, therefore, which the Roman emperors had 
devised for their protection against treason and the Church for 
the suppression of heresy was brought into action against the 
witches, for witchcraft was the acme of treason and heresy, a crimen 
laesae maiestatis divinae} 

For a description of the methods employed we cannot do 
better than go to the Malleus Maleficarum,^ the guide and hand- 
book of the witch-hunters. 

All proceedings in cases of witchcraft, say the reverend authors, 
must be on the plan recommended by Popes Clement V and 
BoniEace VIII, ' summarie, simpliciter, et de piano, ac sine strepitu 
ac figura iudicii ', a harmless looking phrase which swept away 
at a stroke aU the safeguards which the lawyers of pagan Rome 
and the ruder justice of ancient Gaul and Germany had placed 
around accused persons. There are, says the Malleus,^ two forms 
of criminal procedure : (1) the old legal or accusatorial form 
where the prosecutor offers to prove his charge and to accept 
the consequences of failure, which must be carefully avoided as 
being dangerous and litigious ; and (2) the inquisitorial, where a 
man denounces another either from zeal for the faith, or because 
called upon to do so, but takes no further part nor offers to prove 
his charge, or where a man is suspected by common report and 
the judge makes inquiry, and this method must always be pre- 
ferred. The inquisitors, on entering a new district, should issue 
a proclamation calling on aU persons to give information against 

1 Malleus, pars i, quaestio 1, p. 6, edit. 1596. 

2 By H. Institoris and J. Sprenger. Between 1486 and 1596 several editions 
were printed in specially small form ' that inquisitors might carry it in their 
pockets and read it under the table '. 

» iii. 1 (p. 337 f.). 


suspected witches on pain of excommunication and temporal 
penalties. Any one may be compelled, by torture if necessary, 
to give evidence, and if he refuses must be punished as an obstinate 
heretic. Other sorcerers, or the man's wife and famUy^ are lawful 
witnesses against, but not for, the accused. Criminals and per- 
jured persons, if they show zeal for the faith, may be admitted 
to give evidence. Priests, nobles, graduates of universities, and 
others legally exempt from torture are not exempt in the case of 
witch trials.^ 

' Delation,' the scandal of imperial Rome, was not only 
encouraged but enforced, and in some places, as at Milan, boxes 
were put in the churches, into which any one might drop an 
anonymous denunciation of his neighbour. 

Names of informers are not to be revealed under penalty of 
excommunication ; the advocate, if there is one, need be told 
the charges only. This advocate must not be chosen by the 
accused but by the inquisitor, and he must refuse the case if it 
seems to him unjust or hopeless. He must not use legal quibbles 
or make delays or appeals, and is to be specially warned that if 
he be found a protector of heretics or a hinderer of the inquisi- 
tion, he will incur the usual penalties for those heinous crimes. 
If he reply that he defends the person, not the error, this avails 
not, for he must make no defence which interferes with proceeding 
summarie, simpliciter, et de piano. ^ After this it is not surprising 
to find that those accused of witchcraft were rarely defended by 
an advocate. 

Faith need be kept with heretics and sorcerers ' for a time 
only '.' Therefore an iaquisitor may promise not to condemn 
a person if he confesses, and then pass sentence after a few days, 
or if of very tender conscience by the mouth of another. It is 
also lawful to introduce persons, etiam mulieres honestae, to the 
accused who promise to find means for their escape if they wiU 
teach them some form of witchcraft. This, say the authors, is 
a most successful method for getting convictions.* 

Torture, though it may not be repeated on the same charge, 
may be continued as long as necessary, and any fresh evidence 
justifies a repetition. Finally the accused may be burnt without 
confession if the evidence is strong enough, or he may be kept 

1 Malleus, iii. 4, p. 344. 2 iii. 10. 

3 iii. 14. * iii. 16. 


in prison for months or years, when the squalor carceris may 
induce him to confess his crimes.^ 

Such are the proceedings recommended against persons sus- 
pected of or denounced for witchcraft, and they conclude appro- 
priately with the hideously hypocritical formula with which they 
were deHvered over to be burnt : ' Relinquimus te potestati 
cin-iae secularis, deprecantes tamen illam ut erga te citra sanguinis 
effusionem et mortis periculum suam sententiam moderetiu" \^ 
which means, according to the Malleus, that sorcerers are to be 
burned even though they repent, while repentant heretics may 
be imprisoned for life. 

What was meant by the squalor carceris may be seen from the 
following description by an eye-witness, Pretorius : ^ 

' Some [of the dungeons] are holes like cellars or wells, fifteen 
to thirty fathoms (?) deep with openings above, through which 
they let down the prisoners with ropes and draw them up when 
they wiU. Such prisons I have seen myself. Some sit in great 
cold, so that their feet are frost-bitten or frozen ofi, and after- 
wards, if they escape, they are crippled for life. Some lie in 
continual darkness, so that they never see a ray of sunlight, and 
know not whether it be night or day. All of them have their 
Hmbs confined so that they can hardly move, and are in continual 
unrest, and he in their own refuse, far more filthy and wretched 
than cattle. They are badly fed, cannot sleep in peace, have 
much anxiety, heavy thoughts, bad dreams. And since they 
cannot move hands or feet, they are plagued and bitten by lice, 
rats, and other vermin, besides being daily abused and threatened 
by gaolers and executioners. And since aU this sometimes lasts 
months or years, such persons, though at first they be courageous, 
rational, strong, and patient, at length become weak, timid, 
hopeless, and if not quite, at least half idiotic and desperate.' 

Yet all this was not considered tortme, and if some poor 
wretch, after a year of it, went mad, or preferred a quick death 
to a slow one, her confession was described as being ' entirely 
voluntary and without torture '. 

As to the torture itself, it combined aU that the ferocity of 
savages and the ingenuity of civUized man had till then invented. 
Besides the ordinary rack, thimib-screws, and leg-crushers or 
Spanish boots, there were spiked wheels over which the victims 
were drawn with weights on their feet ; boiling oil was poured on 

1 iii. 14. ^ iii. 29-31, repeated with slight variations. 

* Von Zauberei und Zavherern, p. 211 ; Soldan and Heppe, i. 347. 


their legs, burning sulphur dropped on their bodies, and lighted 
candles held beneath their armpits. At Bamberg they were fed 
on salt fish and allowed no water, and then bathed in scalding 
water and quickhme. At Lindheim they were fixed to a revolv- 
ing table and whirled round till they vomited and became uncon- 
scious, and on recovery remained in so dazed a state that they 
were ready to confess anything.^ At Neisse they were fastened 
naked in a chair ' with 150 finger-long spikes in it ' and kept 
there for hours. And so effective were these tortiires that nine 
out of ten innocent persons preferred to die as confessed sorcerers 
rather than undergo a repetition of them. 

The Jesuit Father Spec, a worthy successor of John Weyer, 
accompanied nearly two hundred victims to the stake at Wiirzburg 
in less than two years. At the end of this time his hair had turned 
grey and he seemed twenty years older, and on being questioned 
as to the cause, declared that he was convinced that all these 
persons were innocent. They had, he said, at first repeated the 
usual confession, but on being tenderly dealt with had one and 
aU protested their innocence, adjuring him at the same time not 
to reveal this, for they would much rather die than be tortured 
again. He added that he had received similar reports from other 
father confessors.^ A few years later, 1631, he plucked up courage 
to pubhsh anonymously his Cautio Criminalis, in which he 
exclaims : 

' Why do we search so dihgently for sorcerers ? I wiU show 
you at once where they are. Take the Capuchins, the Jesuits, all 
the rehgious orders, and torture them — they will confess. If 
some deny, repeat it a few times — they will confess. Should 
a few stni be obstinate, exorcise them, shave them: they use 
sorcery, the devil hardens them, only keep on torturing — ^they 
will give in. If you want more, take the Canons, the Doctors, 
the Bishops of the Chiu:ch — ^they wiU confess. How should the 
poor delicate creatures hold out ? If you want stUl more, I wiU 
torture you and then you me. I will confess the crimes you will 
have confessed, and so we shall all be sorcerers together.' ^ 

* The Lindheim cases are recorded by G. C. Horst, afterwards pastor of the 
place, in his Ddmonomagie, 2 vols., Frankfort, 1818, and Zanberbibliothek, 6 vols., 
Mainz, 1821-6. See also O. Glaubrecht, Die Schreckensjahre von Lindheim, 1886. 

^ Cautio Criminalis, Rinteln, 1631, Dubium xix (p. 128). He calls himself 
' Sacerdos quidam '. 

3 Dubium xx (p. 153). 


In the most notorious of judicial murders, we read that the 
judges had some difficulty owing to a disagreement between the 
witnesses. This rarely troubled the witch-hunters. At Lindheim 
a woman was accused of having dug up and carried bff the body 
of an infant, which, under torture, she admitted, denouncing four 
others as her accompHces. But on the grave being opened, the 
body was found uninjured. The inquisitors at once decided that 
this must be a delusion of the devil, and all five women were 
burned. A man confessed, under torture, that he was a were- 
wolf, and in that form had killed a calf belonging to a neighbour ; 
the latter, however, said he had never lost a calf, though two or 
three years ago two hens had disappeared, he believed through 
witchcraft. The accused was burnt, for what need had they of 
witnesses ? Had they not heard his confession ? ^ 

It was even laid down as a principle that doubtful points 
must be decided ' in favour of the faith ' — in other words, against 
the accused. ' If a sorcerer retracts his denunciations at the 
stake, it is not void, for he may have been corrupted by friends 
of the accused. Also when witnesses vary, as they often do, the 
positive assertion is always to be believed,' says Bishop Covarivias, 
a prominent member of the Council of Trent. In which he is 
supported by the jurist Menochius of Padua, ' ne tam horrendum 
crimen occultum sit'.- 

Anything might start a witch-hunting, and once started it 
increased like an avalanche. If an old woman happened to be 
out of doors in a thunder-storm ; if the winter was prolonged ; 
if there was a more than usual number of flies and caterpillars ; , 
if a woman had a spite against her neighbour, some one might be 
denounced and forced in turn to denounce others. The pro- 
longed winter of 1586 in Savoy, for instance, resulted in the 
burning of 113 women and two men, who confessed, after torture, 
that it was due to their incantations. 

It is thus not difficult to understand how, in the diocese of 
Como, witches were burnt for many years at an average rate of 100 
per annum ; how in that of Strassburg 5,000 were burnt in twenty 
years, 1615-35 ; how in the small diocese of Neisse 1,000 suffered 
between 1640-50, insomuch that they gave up the stake and pile 
as being too costly, and roasted them in a specially prepared oven ; 
and how the Protestant jurist Benedict Carpzov could boast not 
1 Horst, Zauberbibliothek, ii. 374, and Ddmonomagie, ii. 412. 


only of having read the Bible through fifty-three times, but also 
of having passed 20,000 death sentences, chiefly on witches and 

One of Carpzov's victims is specially interesting to medical 
men, the Saxon physician, Dr. Veit Pratzel, who on one occasion 
(1660) produced twenty mice by sleight of hand in a public-house, 
probably for the sake of advertisement. He was denounced as 
a sorcerer, tortured and burnt, while his children were bled to 
death in a warm bath by the executioner, lest they should acquire 
similar diabohcal powers.^ 

A like fate befell the servant of a travelling dentist at Schwer- 
senz in Poland. The dentist, John Plan, left his assistant in the 
town to attract attention by conjixring tricks, while he went to 
sell his infallible toothache tinctures in the neighbouring villages. 
On his retm-n next evening, he was horrified to see the body of 
the unfortunate man hanging on the town gallows, and was told 
on inquiry that he was an evident sorcerer who had made eggs, 
birds, and plants before everybody in the market-place. He had 
therefore been arrested, scourged, put on the rack, and other- 
wise tortured tUl he confessed he was in league with the devil. 
Whereupon the town council, ' out of special grace and to save 
expense', had, instead of burning him, mercifully condemned him 
to be hanged. The dentist fled in terror to Breslau.' 

But it was by no means necessary to be so foolhardy as this 
to fall into the hands of the witch-hunters. A woman at Lind- 
heim was noticed to run into her barn as the inquisitorial officials 
came down the street. She had never been accused or even sus- 
pected of witchcraft, but was nevertheless immediately arrested, 
and brought more dead than alive to the chief inquisitor, Geiss,* 
who declared her flight justified the strongest suspicion. Exposed 
to the most extreme torture, she confessed nothing, but at length, 
at the question whether she had made a compact with the devil, 
one of the inquisitors declared he saw her nod her head. This 
was enough ; she was burnt ; probably a happy fate under the 
circumstances, for she thus escaped being forced by further 
tortures to give details of her imaginary crime and to denounce 
her neighboTors. 

1 Soldan and Heppe, ii. 209. 2 Soldan and Heppe, ii. 130. 

^ J. H. Bohmer, lus ecdesiasticum, 5 vols., Halle, 1738-43, v. 35. 
* Horst, Ddnwnomagie, ii. 377. ■ 


Once in the clutches of the witch-hunters, the unfortunate 
victim was confronted by a series of dilemmas from which few 
escaped. A favourite beginning was to ask whether he believed 
in witchcraft. If he said ' Yes ', he evidently knew more of the 
subject ; if ' No ', he was ipso facto a heretic and slanderer of the 
inquisition ; if in confusion he tried to distinguish, he was varius 
in confessionihus,^ and a fit subject for immediate torture. If he 
confessed under torture, the matter was, of course, settled ; if he 
endured manfully, it was evident that the devU must be aiding 
him. If a mark could be found on his body which was insensible 
and did not bleed when pricked, it was the devil's seal and a sure 
sign of guilt ; but if there was none, his case was no better, for 
it was held that the devil only marked those whose fidelity he 
doubted, so that a suspected person who had no such mark was in 
all probability a specially eminent sorcerer.^ 

Then came the water test, of which there is no better account 
than the report sent by W. A. Scribonius, Professor of Philosophy 
at Marburg, to the town council of Lemgo in 1583 : 

' When I came to you, most prudent and learned consules, 
26th September, there were, two days later on St. Michael's eve, 
three witches burnt alive for divers and horrible crimes. The 
same day three others, denounced by those aforesaid, were arrested, 
and on the following day about 2 p.m. for further proving of the 
truth were thrown into water to see whether they would swim or 
not. Their clothes were removed and they were bound by the 
right thumb to the left big toe and vice versa, so that they could 
not move in the least. They were then cast three times into the 
water in the presence of some thousands of spectators, and floated 
like logs of wood, nor did one of them sink. And it is also remark- 
able that almost at the moment they touched the water a shower 
of rain then falling ceased, and the sun shone, but when they 
were taken out it started raining as before.' 

On request of the burgomaster, he investigated ' the philo- 
sophy' of this, and, though he could find nothing definite, had 
no doubt of its value as a test of witchcraft. ' The physician 
' Weyer rejects it as absurd and fallacious, but he can produce no 
good arguments or examples against it, and may therefore be 
ignored.' Perhaps witches are made lighter because possessed 
by demons who are ' powers of the air ' and often carry them 

1 Malleus, iii. 14 (p. 370). 

2 Father Spec gives a long list of these dilemmas, Cautio Criminalis, Dubium h. 


through the air. All who float have afterwards confessed, there- 
fore though not scriptural nor of itself sufficient to convict, the 
swimming test is not to be despised.^ 

With regard to the number of victims, even sober historians, 
such as Soldan, speak of millions, but if we take three-quarters of 
a million for the two centmries 1500-1700, it wiU give a rate of ten 
executions daily, at least eight of which were judicial murders. 

Even more pathetic than the notice of 800 condemned in one 
body by the senate of Savoy ^ are the long Hsts of yearly execu- 
tions preserved in the fragmentary records of small towns and 
villages. Thus at Meiningen, between 1610-31 and 1656-85, 106 
suffered — in 1610 three, 1611 twenty-two, 1612 four, &c. &c., the 
intervening records being omitted owing to war. Similar notices 
have survived at Waldsee, Thun in Alsace, and many other ham- 
lets, where through a long series of years we read of one to twenty 
persons burnt annually, some of them being previously ' torn with 
red-hot pincers '.' 

At Wiirzburg the Prince-bishop, Philip of Ehrenberg, is said to 
have burnt 900 in five years (1627-31), and we have terrible lists of 
twenty-nine of the burnings, almost all of which include young 
children. Here are two of them : 

' In the thirteenth burning, four persons : the old court smith, 
an old woman, a little girl of nine or ten years, a younger girl her 

' In the twentieth burning, six persons : Babelin Goebel, the 
prettiest girl in Wiirzburg ; a student in the fifth form who knew 
many languages and was an excellent musician, instrumental and 
vocal; two boys from the new minster, twelve years old; Babel 
Stepper's daughter; the caretaker on the bridge.' * 

At Bamberg the Prince-bishop, John George, 1625-30, burnt 
at least 600 persons, and his predecessors had been hardly less 
vigorous witch-hunters. He was ably seconded by his suffragan. 
Bishop Forner, and two doctors of law, Braun and Kotzendorffer, 
who besides the ordinary torture implements, salt fish and quick- 
lime baths, found a so-called prayer stool or bench covered with 

^ De sagarum natura et potestate, deque his recte cognoscendis et puniendis deque 
purgatione earum per aquam frigidam epistola, Lemgo, 1583. Also in Sawx, Thea- 
trum de Veneficiis, 1856. 

^ Lea, iii. 549. ^ Haas, Die Hexenprocesse, Tubingen, 1865. 

* Soldan and Heppe, ii. 46, and elsewhere. 


spikes, on which the victim was forced to kneel, and a cage with 
a sharp ridged floor on which he could not stand, sit, or lie without 
torment, of great value in extorting confessions. The record of 
their deeds has been published by Dr. F. Leitschuh,^ Ubrarian of 
Bamberg, and contains, among other cases, that of the Burgo- 
master, John Junius, which throws more light on the nature of the 
witch trials than do volumes of second-hand history.^ 

John Junius, a man universally respected, had been five times 
Burgomaster of Bamberg, and held that office in June 1628, when 
he was arrested on a charge of sorcery. He protested his innocence 
though six witnesses declared, under torture, that they had seen 
him at the witch dances. On June 30 he endured the torment of 
the thumb-screws and leg-crushers (Spanish boots) without con- 
fession. Then they stuck pins in him and found a ' devil's mark', 
and finally drew him up with his arms twisted backwards, but he 
would admit nothing. Next day, however, when threatened with 
a repetition of the torture, he broke down, made the usual 
confession (including intercourse with a female demon who turned 
into a he-goat), and denounced twenty-seven persons whose names 
and addresses are given.' He was condemned to be beheaded 
and biirnt, but before his death wrote the following letter to his 
daughter : 

' Many hundred thousand good-nights, my dearest daughter 
Veronica ! Guiltless was I taken to prison, guiltless have I been 
tortured, guiltless I must die. For whoever comes here must 
either be a sorcerer, or is tortured until (God pity him) he makes 
up a confession of sorcery out of his head. I'll tell you how I fared. 
When I was questioned the first time, there were present Dr. 
Braun, Dr. Kotzendorffer, and two strangers. Dr. Braun asked me, 
"Friend, how came you hither?" I answered, "Through lies and 
misfortune." "Hear you," said he, "you're a sorcerer. Confess it 
willingly or we'll bring witnesses and the executioner to you." 
I said, "I am no sorcerer. I have a clear conscience on this matter, 
and care not for a thousand witnesses, but am ready to hear them." 
Then the chancellor's son, Dr. Haan, was brought out. I asked, 
" Herr Doctor, what do you know of me ? I never had anything to 
do with you, good or bad." He answered, "Sir, it is a judgement 
matter, excuse me for witnessing against you. I saw you at the 
dances." "Yes, but how ? " He did not know. Then I asked the 
commissioners to put him on oath, and examine him properly. 

1 Beitrdge zur GescMchte des Hexenwesens in Franken, Bamberg, 1883. 

2 48 ff. * Official report, given by Leitschuh in appendix. 

1892 T, 


"The thing is not to be arranged as you want it," said Dr. Braun; 
"it is enough that he saw you." I said, "What sort of witness is 
that ? If things are so managed, you are as Httle safe as I or any 
other honourable person." Next came the chancellor and said the 
same as his son. He had seen me, but had not looked carefully to 
see who I was. Then Elsa Hopffen. She had seen me dancing on 
Haupt's moor. Then came the executioner and put on the thumb- 
screws, my hands being tied together, so that the blood spurted 
from under the nails, and I cannot use my hands these four weeks, 
as you may see by this writing. Then they tied my hands behind 
and drew me up. I thought heaven and earth were disappearing. 
Eight times they drew me up and let me fall so that I suffered 
horrible agony. All which time I was stark naked, for they had 
me stripped. 

'But our Lord God helped me, and I said to them, "God forgive 
you for treating an innocent man like this ; you want not only to 
destroy body and soul, but also to get the goods and chattels." 
[At Bamberg, two-thirds of the property of convicted sorcerers 
went to the bishop, and the rest to the inquisitors.] "You're a 
rascal," said Dr. Braun. I replied, "I am no rascal, but as respect- 
able as any of you ; but if things go on like this, no respectable man 
in Bamberg wiU be safe, you as little as I or another." The doctor 
said he had no dealings with the devil. I said, " Nor have I. Your 
false witnesses are the devils, your horrible tortures. You let no 
one go, even though he has endured aU your torments." 

' It was Friday, 30th June, that, with God's help, I endured these 
tortures. I have ever since been unable to put my clothes on 
or use my hands, besides the other pains I had to suffer innocently. 

' When the executioner took me back to prison, he said to me, 
" Sir, for God's sake confess something, whether true or not. 
Think a little. You can't stand the tortures they'll inflict on you, 
and even if you could you wouldn't escape, though you were a 
count, but they'll go through them again and again and never 
leave you tiU you say you are a sorcerer, as may be seen by all their 
judgements, for aU end alike." Another came and said the bishop 
had determined to make an example of me which would astonish 
people, and begged me for God's sake to make up something, for 
I should not escape even though I were innocent, and so said 
Neudecker and others. 

' Then I asked to see a priest, but could not get one. . . . And 
then this is my confession as follows, but all of it lies, 

' Here follows, dearest child, what I confessed that I might 
escape the great torments and agonies, for I could not have endured 
them any longer. This is my confession, nothing but lies, that 
I had to make on threat of still greater tortures, and for which 
I must die. 


'"I went into my field, and sat down there in great melancholy, 
when a peasant girl came to me and said, ' Sir, what is the matter ? 
Why are you so sorrowful?' I said I did not know, and then she 
sat down close to me, and suddenly changed into a he-goat and 
said, ' Now you know with whom you have to do.' He took me by 
the throat and said, 'You must be mine, or I'll kill you.' Then 
I said, ' God forbid.' Then he vanished and came back with two 
women and three men ; bade me deny God, and I did so, denied 
God and the heavenly host. Then he baptized me and the two 
women were sponsors ; gave me a ducat, which turned into a pot- 

' Now I thought I had got it over, but they brought in the 
executioner, and asked where I went to the witch dances. I did 
not know what to say, but remembered that the chancellor and his 
son andElsaHopffen had mentioned Haupt's moor and other places, 
so I said the same. Then I was asked whom I had seen there. 
Replied I did not recognize any. " You old rascal, I must get the 
executioner to you. Was the chancellor there ? " Said " Yes." 
" Who else ? " "I recognized none." Then he said, " Take street 
by street, beginning from the market." Then I had to name some 
persons. Then Long Street. I knew nobody ; had to name eight 
persons. . . . Did I know any one in the castle ? I must speak 
out boldly whoever it was. So they took me through aU the streets 
till I could and would say no more. Then they gave me to the 
executioner to strip, shave off my hair, and torture me again. 
"The rascal knows a man in the market-place, goes about with him 
daily, and won't name him." They meant Dietmeyer, so I had to 
name him. 

' Next they asked what evil I had done. I rephed, "None." 
The devil bade me to, and beat me when I refused. " Put the 
rascal on the rack." So I said I was told to murder my children 
but kiUed a horse instead. That wasn't enough for them. I had 
also taken a sacramental wafer and bxu-ied it. When I said this 
they left me in peace. 

' There, dearest child, you have all my confession, for which 
I must die, and it is nothing but hes and made-up things, so God 
help me. For I had to say all this for fear of the tortures threat- 
ened me, besides all those I had gone through. For they go on 
torturing till one confesses something ; be he as pious as he wiU, he 
must be a sorcerer. No one escapes, though he were a count. 
And if God does not interfere, aU our friends and relations will be 
burnt, for each has to confess as I had. 

' Dearest child, I know you are pious as I, but you have already 
had some trouble, and if I may advise, you had better take what 
money there is and go on a pUgrimage for six months, or somewhere 
where you can stay for a time outside the diocese till one sees what 



will happen. Many honourable men and women in Bamberg go to 
church and about their business, do no evil, and have clear con- 
sciences as I hitherto, as you know, yet they come to the witch 
prison, and if they have a tongue to confess, confess they must, 
true or not. 

' Neudecker, the chancellor, his son, Candelgiesser, Hofmeister's 
daughter, and Elsa Hopffen all denounced me at once. I had no 
chance. Many are in the same case, and many more will be, unless 
God intervenes. 

' Dear child, keep this letter secret so that nobody sees it, or 
I shall be horribly tortured and the gaoler will lose his head, so 
strict is the rule against it. You may let Cousin Stamer read it 
quickly in private. He will keep it secret. Dear child, give this 
man a thaler. 

' I have taken some days to write this. Both my hands are 
lamed. I am in a sad state altogether. I entreat you by the last 
judgement, keep this letter secret, and pray for me after my death 
as for your martyred father . . . but take care no one hears of 
this letter. Tell Anna Maria to pray for me too. You may take 
oath for me that I am no sorcerer, but a martyr. 

' Good-night, for your father, John Junius, wUl see you never 

24th July, 1628.' 

On the margin is written : 

' Dear child, six denounced me : the chancellor, his son, 
Neudecker, Zaner, Ursula Hoffmaister, and Elsa Hopffen, all 
falsely and on compulsion as they aU confessed. They begged my 
pardon for God's sake before they were executed. They said they 
knew nothing of me but what was good and loving. They were 
obliged to name me, as I should find out myself. I cannot have 
a priest, so take heed of what I have written, and keep this letter 

The letter is still preserved, with its crippled handwriting, in the 
library at Bamberg. This case is beyond comment. It is like the 
trial of Faithful at Vanity Fair, but with rack and thumb-screw in 
place of a jury. Yet it is but a moderate sample of those outrages 
on justice and humanity called witch trials. Men rarely held out 
long, but, did space permit, we might tell stories of many heroic 
women who endured ten, twenty, even fifty repetitions of torture, 
till they died on the rack or in the dungeon rather than falsely 
accuse themselves or their neighbours.^ 

1 Maria Hollin at Nordlingen (1593) withstood fifty-six repetitions of torture, 
and was finally 'dismissed' on the terms mentioned (Janssen, op. cit., viii. 719). 


For when once arrested, the victim had small hope of acquittal, 
and in the most favourable cases, when there was no external 
evidence, and no amount of torture could induce a ' confession ', 
the accused was sent back friendless and crippled to her home, 
which she was forbidden to leave, having first sworn to have no 
more deaUngs with the devil, and to take no proceedings against 
her accusers. To acquit her would imply that an innocent person 
had been tortured, a thing naturally repugnant to the tender con- 
sciences of the inquisitors. 

Nor was the mania confined to any special class. Protestants 
vied with Catholics, and town councils with bishops in cruelty and 
injustice. At Nordlingen they had a special set of torture instru- 
ments which the Protestant town council lent to neighbouring 
district authorities, with the pious observation that ' by these 
means, and more especially by the thumb-screw, God has often 
been graciously pleased to reveal the truth, if not at first, at any 
rate at the last \^ 

It is obvious from the above cases that the main cause of the 
continuance of the witch-burnings, and of the number of the 
victims, was the use of torture to obtain denunciations. The 
instances in which insane persons accused themselves or others 
seem to have been fewer than we might have expected. 

Then, as now, there were melancholies who thought they had 
committed the unpardonable sin, and in those days the unpardon- 
able sin might be represented by an imaginary compact with the 
devil. Then, as now, the ' mania of persecution ' was a prominent 
symptom in some forms of insanity, and the idea of being bewitched 
by some old woman corresponded to the modern dread of detec- 
tives, electric batteries, or telephones. 

Some of the supposed signs of witchcraft resemble those of 
mania and melancholia. Thus maniacs sometimes coUect dirt for 
money, and witches often confessed that the devil's money changed 
to dirt. MelanchoUcs mutter to themselves, look on the ground, 
and avoid society, aU of which were considered signs of witchcraft. 
But then red hair and left-handedness were no less infallible indi- 

Insanity and crime were indeed present at the witch trials, but 
they were at least as obvious in the accusers and judges as in the 

1 The Nordlingen authorities acquired an evil emiaence in this frightfubiess, 
which they termed ' eine heilsame Tortur ' (Soldan, ii. 470). 


victims, and the first man who was bold enough to say so was 
Dr. John Weyer. Though a few feeble protests may have been 
made by others, it was from the medical profession that the first 
determined opposition came. Mystics like Paracelsus and Cardan 
might encourage the superstition ; pious and able members of the 
profession like Ambroise Pare and Sir Thomas Brown might give it 
their sanction, but it was the physician CorneHus Agrippa who first 
successfully defended a witch at the risk of his own life,^ and it 
was his pupil John Weyer who first declared open war against the 
witch-hunters and invoked the vengeance of heaven upon their 

' The feareful abounding at this time in this countrie of those 
detestable slaves of the divell, the witches or enchanters hath 
moved me (beloved reader) to dispatch in post the following 
treatise of mine, not in any wise (as I protest) to serve for a shewe 
of my learning and ingine, but only (moved of conscience to preasse 
thereby) so far as I can, to resolve the doubting hearts of manie 
both that such assaults of Satan are most certainly practised, and 
that the instruments thereof merit most severely to be punished, 
against the damnable opinions of two principally in our age, 
whereof the one called Scot, an Englishman, is not ashamed in 
public print to denie that there can be such a thing as witchcraft 
and so maintains the old error of the Sadduces in denying of spirits, 
the other called Wierus, a German physition sets out a publike 
apologie for all these crafts-folks, whereby procuring for their 
impunity, he plainly bewrayes himself to have been of that pro- 

Thus did our ' British Solomon ', James I, commence his Dae- 
monologia (1698), a work directed against the two men who alone 
up to that time had made a bold and open protest against the witch 
mania and its abominations. Reginald Scot in his Discovery of 
Witchcraft (1584) took the view of a modem common-sense Eng- 
lishman, that the whole thing is absurd, a mixture of roguery and 
false accusations. Weyer, on the other hand, his predecessor by 
twenty years, is a firm believer in the activity of the devil, whose 
object, however, is not to get possession of the souls of crazy old 
women, but by deluding them, to convert pious and learned 
lawyers and theologians into torturers and murderers. 

Born about 1516 at Grave in Brabant, the son of a dealer in 
hops and faggots, Weyer was acquainted with the supernatural 
^ Lea, iii. 545, and references there given. 


from his earliest years, for they had a domestic ' house cobold ' or 
Poltergeist, who was heard tumbUng the hop-sacks about when- 
ever a customer was expected. At seventeen years of age the 
boy was sent to study medicine as apprentice to CorneHus Agrippa, 
an extraordinary man, long held to be a sorcerer, who had recently 
incurred yet stronger suspicion by his heroic and successful defence 
of a woman accused of witchcraft at Metz, and by his fondness for 
a black dog called ' Monsieur ' which scarcely ever left him. The 
young Weyer used to take this animal out on a string, and soon 
became convinced, to use his own words, that it was ' a perfectly 
natural male dog '.^ He next went to Paris and thence to Orleans, 
a university then famous for its medical school, where he took the 
degree of M.D. in 1537. He commenced practice in Brabant, 
became pubhc medical officer at Arnheim in 1545, and in 1550 
physician to Duke WUliam of Cleves. In 1563 he pubHshed his 
great work De praestigiis daemonum et incantationibus ac veneficiis,^ 
the object of which is to show that so-called witchcraft is usually 
due to delusions of demons, who take advantage of the weaknesses 
and diseases of women to bring about impious and absurd super- 
stitions, hatreds, cruelties, and a vast outpouring of innocent blood, 
things in which they naturally delight. 

He proposes to treat the subject under four heads corresponding 
to the four faculties, theology, philosophy, medicine, and law. In 
the first section he attempts to show that the Hebrew word Kasaph 
does not mean 'witch' but 'poisoner', or at any rate that Greek, 
Latin, and Rabbinical interpreters so vary, that no reliance can 
be placed upon them. Moreover the law of Moses was given to the 
Jews ' for the hardness of their hearts ', and is by no means always 
to be used by Christians.^ Magicians and sorcerers do indeed stiU 
exist, as in ancient Egypt, but these are always men, and usually 
rogues and swindlers, such as was Faust, of whom Weyer gives us 
one of the earliest and most authentic notices. Faust, he says, was 
once arrested by Baron Hermann of Batoburg, and given in charge 
of his chaplain, J. Diirsten, who hoping to see some sign or wonder, 
treated him with much kindness, giving him the best of wine. But 
all he got out of him was a magic ointment to enable him to shave 
without a razor, containing arsenic, and so strong that it brought 

1 De praestigiis, tfcc, ii. 5. 

2 The privilege for publication is dated November 4, 1562 ; three editions 
appeared before the end of 1564, and a sixth in 1583. * Op. cit., ii. 1. 


not only the hair but the skin from the reverend gentleman's cheeks. 
' The which he has told me more than once with much indigna- 
tion.' 1 

Weyer, however, firmly believes that the devil may assist sor- 
cerers, such as Faust, in some of their feats, though he does this 
chiefly by deluding the eyes of the spectators. He may also delude 
women into the belief that they have been at witch dances and 
caused thunder-storms, &g., but his greatest deception is to make 
men believe in the reahty of witchcraft and so torture and murder 
the innocent.^ Women are more liable to his deceptions owing to 
their greater instability both of mind and body, and the delusion 
may be favoured by the use of drugs and ointments, especially 
those containing belladonna, lohum, henbane, opium, and even more 
by herbs recently introduced from east and west, such as Indian 
hemp, datura, ' and the plant called by the Indians " tabacco ", 
by the Portuguese " peto ", and by the French " nicotiana " '.^ 

As for the supposed compact with the devil, it is an absurdity 
only surpassed by the belief in sexual intercourse with demons. 
This delusion, Weyer points out, may be explained medically by the 
phenomena of nightmare and the effects of certain drugs, and is 
not sanctioned by Scripture. For, though holy men such as 
Lactantius, Justin Martyr, and Tertullian have maintained that 
the ' sons of God ' mentioned in Genesis vi. 2 were spirits, this 
interpretation is opposed by still more eminent theologians, such 
as Saints Jerome, Gregory Nazianzen, and Chrysostom, though he 
is obUged to admit that St. Augustine believed in incubi and 
succuhae,* and that distinguished living theologians hold that 
Luther's father was literally the devil. This, however, says 
Weyer, is an unfair and prejudiced way of attacking the Lutheran 
heresy. * 

People who fancy themselves bewitched are reaUy possessed or 
assaulted by the devil, as were Job and the demoniacs of the New 
Testament. If these demoniacs had lived in our days, he remarks, 
they would probably have each cost the lives of numerous old 
women.* The strange objects vomited by such persons are either 
deceptions or put into the person's mouth by the devil, as is shown 
by there being no admixture of food, and the absence of pain or 
injury in spite of the size of the objects.' 

1 Op. cit., ii. 4. 2 iii, 6. 3 Mi. 18. 4 jy 21. 

s iii. 23. « iv. 1. ' j^. 2. 


A girl near Cleves fell into convulsions with clenched hands and 
teeth which, accordmg to her father, could only be opened by 
making the sign of the cross. She also complained of pains for 
which it was necessary to buy a bottle of holy water from a priest 
at Amersfort, on drinking which she proceeded to vomit pins, 
needles, scraps of iron, and pieces of cloth. She spoke in an altered 
boyish voice, intended for that of a demon, and declared the whole 
was caused by an ' in my opinion honest matron ', who was im- 
prisoned with her mother and two other women. 

Weyer under'jook the case, ' whereupon she said in her boy's 
voice she would have nothing to do with me, and that I was a cun- 
ning feUow. " Look what sharp eyes he has." ' Weyer opened her 
hands and mouth, without making the sign of the cross, ' not that 
I would in any way speak irreverently thereof '. He also showed 
that the objects produced, even soon after eating, were free from 
admixture of food, and had therefore never been farther than the 
mouth ; and he thus obtained the release of the four women after 
a month's imprisonment.^ 

As for the stories of men changed into animals, they are partly 
poetic and moral allegories, as the sailors of Ulysses, and partly 
a form of insanity long recognized by physicians, and termed 

Many think they are possessed when they are only melancholic, 
and others pretend to be so to excite interest and obtain money. 
Those who fancy themselves attacked by devils should, instead 
of accusing their neighbours, take to themselves the armour of 
God as described by St. Paul. Unfortunately, spiritual pastors, 
in their ignorance and greed, teach that not only diabolical posses- 
sion, but even ordinary diseases are to be cured by charms, incan- 
tations, palm branches, consecrated candles, and an execrable 
abuse of scriptural words. Cures are, indeed, sometimes so pro- 
duced, but are reaUy due to the imagination. 

Persons supposed to be possessed should first be taken to an 
intelligent physician, who should investigate and treat any bodily 
disorder. Should spiritual disorders be also present he may then 
send the patient to a pious minister of the Church, but this wiU 
often be unnecessary. The devil is especially fond of attacking 
nuns, who should be separated from the rest, and, if possible, sent 
home to their relations.^ 

1 iv. 3. 2 iy, 23. 3 iv. 10. 


Here Weyer inserts several instances in his own experience. 

Philip WfesseUch, a monk of Knechtenstein near Cologne, an 
honest, simple-minded man, was miserably afflicted by a spirit 
about the year 1550. Sometimes he was carried up to the roof, 
at others thrust in among the beams of the belfry, often carried 
unexpectedly through the wall (plerumque per murum transfere- 
batur inopinato) and knocked about generally. At length the 
spirit declared he was Matthew Duren, a former abbot, condemned 
to penance for having paid an artist insufficiently for a painting of 
the Blessed Virgin, so that the poor man went bankrupt and com- 
mitted suicide, 'which was true'. He could only be released if 
the monk went to Treves and Aix and recited three masses in the 
respective cathedrals. The theological faculty of Cologne advised 
that he should do so, but the abbot Gerard, a man of firmness and 
inteUigence, told the possessed man that he was a victim of dia- 
bolical deceptions, and that unless he put his trust in God, and 
puUed himself together, he should be publicly whipped. Where- 
upon the monk did so, and the devil left him and went elsewhere.^ 

A similar case was that of a young woman known to Weyer, who 
had convulsions in church whenever the ' Gloria in excelsis ' was 
sung in German, and said she was possessed. It was observed, 
however, that she looked about for a soft place to fall on. She 
was therefore sent for by Weyer' s friend the Countess Anna of 
Virmont, who said she was about to sing the chant, and that if the 
demon attacked her she would soon drive him out. The young 
woman feU in the usual fit, on which the countess, prudens et 
cordata matrona, with the aid of her daughter pulled up her dress 
and gave her a good whipping. ' She confessed to me afterwards 
that it completely cured her.' Extreme diseases, adds Weyer, 
require, according to Hippocrates, extreme remedies, but care 
should be taken to distinguish suitable cases.^ 

The last and most important section of the book treats of the 
punishment of witches, who are to be carefully distinguished from 
poisoners and magicians, such as Faust, who are often wealthy men 
and spend much money in travel, books, &c., to learn diabolic arts ; 
or deceivers, such as the mason who buried wolves' dung in a cattle 
stall, and when the animals showed great excitement, said they 
were bewitched, and offered to cure them for a consideration. Such 
men, when proved to have done serious harm, are to be severely 
1 Op. cit., V. 34. a v. 35. 


punished. The less guilty should be admonished, and among them 
are those who spread superstitious practices and persuade sick 
people that they are bewitched by some old woman. 

This is all that the laws of Church or State require, and is a very 
different thing from seizing poor women possessed by diabolic 
delusions, or on the malicious accusations or foolish suspicions of 
the ignorant vulgar, and casting them into horrible dungeons, 
whence they are dragged to be torn and crushed by every imagin- 
able instrument of torture, till, however guiltless they are, they 
confess to sorcery, since it is better to give their souls to God in 
innocence, even through flame, than longer endure the hideous 
torments of bloodthirsty tyrants. And should they die under 
torture or in prison, the accusers and judges cry out triumphantly 
that they have committed suicide, or that the devU has broken 
their necks. 

Here foUows a burst of indignant eloquence which would have 
cost Weyer dear had he fallen into the clutches of the witch-hunters, 
and which may be given in the terse vigour of the original : 

' Sed ubi tandem is apparuerit quem nihil latet. Scrutator 
cordium et renum, ipsius abstrusissimae etiam veritatis Cognitor 
et Index, vestri actus palam fient, O vos praefracti tyranni, O 
iudices sanguinarii, hominem exuti et caecitate ab omni miseri- 
cordia procul remoti. Ad ipsius extremi iudicii tribunal iustissi- 
mum vos provoco, qui inter vos et me decernet ubi sepulta et 
culcata Veritas resurget vobisque in faciem resistet latrociniorum 
ultionem exactura.' ^ 

Their credulity almost equals their cruelty, as shown by the 
belief that a certain old woman caused the excessive cold of the 
preceding winter, and by the absurd swimming test. What effect 
can denial of faith, evil intentions, or a corrupt fantasy have upon 
a person's specific gravity, on which floating depends ? Moreover, 
women usually float, since their specific gravity is less than that of 
men, as Hippocrates pointed out.^ But nothing is too absurd for 
a witch inquisitor. Some fishermen at Rotterdam drew up their 
nets full of stones but Ashless. This was clearly witchcraft, so they 
seized an unfortunate woman who confessed in her terror that she 
had flown out of the window through a hole the size of a finger-end, 
dived under the sea in a mussel-shell,^ and there terrified the fishes 

1 vi. 4. 2 vi. 9. 

* ' Mossel-scolp nostratibus dicitur.' 


and put stones in the nets. The woman, says Weyer, was evi- 
dently mad or deluded by the devil, but they burnt her all the same. 
Treachery and cruelty go together. A priest, having failed to 
make a witch confess, promised that if she would admit some small 
act of sorcery, he would see that she was released after some slight 
penance. Thereupon she confessed and was burnt alive. ^ 

In contrast to this, Weyer describes the method of dealing with 
witchcraft in the duchy of Cleves. In 1563 a farmer, finding his 
cows gave less milk than usual, consulted a witch-finder, who told 
him that one of his own daughters had bewitched them. The girl, 
deluded by the devil, admitted this and accused sixteen other 
women of being her accomplices. The magistrate wrote to the 
duke proposing to imprison them aU, but the latter, probably at 
Weyer's instigation, rephed that the witch-finder was to be im- 
prisoned, the girl to be instructed by a priest and warned against 
the delusions of demons, and the sixteen women in no way to be 

An old woman of eighty was arrested at Mons on charge of 
witchcraft, the chief evidence being that her mother had long ago 
been tortured to death on a similar charge. To make her confess 
they poured boiling oil over her legs, which produced blisters and 
ulcers, and her son hearing of it sent her a roU of Unt to put round 
them. This was supposed to make magic bandages by the aid of 
which the woman might escape, and the son was promptly arrested. 
The mother was to be burnt in a few days, and her son would pro- 
bably have followed, when Weyer, by permission of the Duke of 
Cleves, visited Count WiUiam of Mons and explained his views on 
witchcraft. He also examined the old woman, who was so broken 
down that she fainted several times, and finally obtained the release 
of both.» 

Theologians (says Weyer in conclusion) may object that he is 
only a physician and bid him keep to his last. He can only reply 
that St. Luke was a physician, and that he is one of those who hope 
by the mercy of God and grace of Christ to attain that royal priest- 
hood of which St. Paul and St. John speak. Finally he is ready to 
submit all he has said to the judgement of the Church, and to recant 
any errors of which he may be convicted. 

The Church answered by putting his name on the Index 
as an auctor 'primae classis, that is, one whose opinions are so 
1 Op. cit., vi. 15. 2 vi. 16. » vi. 16. 


dangerous that none of his works may be read by the faithful 
without special permission, while his book was solemnly burnt 
by the Protestant University of Marburg.^ The Duke of Alva, 
then engaged in his notorious work in the Netherlands, used his 
influence to get Weyer removed from his position at the court 
of Cleves. In this he was aided by the duke's increasing melan- 
choHa and ill health, which were considered by many a judgement 
upon him for his protection of Weyer and neglect of witch-burn- 
ing. In 1578 Weyer resigned his post to his son Galen, and in 
1581 witch-hunting commenced in the duchy of Cleves. Weyer, 
however, as befitted the chivabous defender of outraged woman- 
hood, enjoyed the friendship and protection of Countess Anna of 
Techlenburg, at whose residence he died, 1588, aged seventy-two. 
The work on The Deceptions of Demons has been aptly compared 
to a torch thrown out into the darkness, which for a moment 
brightly illumes a small space and then disappears. It made 
a temporary sensation, and was welcomed by a few of the more 
enlightened spirits of the time; it saved the lives of some un- 
fortunate women (being successfully quoted the very year after 
pubhcation in defence of a young woman at Frankfort, who con- 
fessed she had flown through the air and had intercourse with 
the devil), and it marks the beginning of an open and persistent 
opposition to the witch mania. Spec also has a curious story 
showing the influence of Weyer' s book : 

' A great prince invited two priests to his table, both men of 
learning and piety. He asked one of them whether he thought 
it right to arrest and torture persons on the evidence of 10 or 
12 witches. Might not the devil have deceived them in order 
to make rulers shed innocent blood, as certain learned men had 
lately argued, "thereby causing us pangs of conscience" ? The 
priest stoutly maintained that these pangs were needless, for God 
would never allow the devil to bring innocent men to a shameful 
and horrible death in this way ; and so he (the prince) might 
continue the witch trials as usual. He persisted in this, till the 
prince said, " I am sorry, my father, you have condemned your- 
self and cannot complain were I to order your immediate arrest, 
for no less than 15 persons have sworn you were with them at 
the witch dances ", and he produced the records of then* trials in 
proof. Then the good man stood like butter in the sun in the 
dog-days, and had nothing more to say for himself.' ^ 

1 Diefenbach/p. 241. ^ Gautio Criminalis, Dubium xlviiu 


But it had little effect on the superstition itself, which reached 
its height during the following half -century ; and the author is 
compelled by his religious behefs to admit so much that his position 
is hardly tenable. Indeed, his premisses had already been granted 
by the witch-hunters themselves. The jurist Molitor, for instance, 
admits that much witchcraft is imaginary and due to the decep- 
tions of demons, but while the physician argues that these 
deceptions are rendered possible by disease, and are themselves 
largely of the nature of disease, so that the victims deserve pity 
and medical treatment rather than burning, the lawyer asserts 
that a person can only be so deceived by his free will, and there- 
fore a woman who believes she has made a compact or had inter- 
course with the devil is as deserving of punishment as if she had 
actually done so.^ 

Just over a century after the appearance of Weyer's book 

' Sir Thomas Brown of Norwich, the famous physician of his 
time, was desired by my Lord Chief Baron [Hale] to give his 
judgement [in a case of witchcraft]. And he declared that he was 
clearly of opinion That the Pits were natural, but heightened by 
the devil co-operating with the malice of the witches at whose 
instance he did the villanies. And he added, That in Denmark 
there had been lately a great Discovery of Witches, who used the 
very same way of afflicting persons by convejdng pins into them.' 

The jury ' having Sir Thomas Brown's Declaration about 
Denmark for their encouragement, in half an hour brought them 
in guilty. . . . They were hanged maintaining their innocence.' ^ 

Had Brown been better acquainted with The Deceptions of 
Demons he might have hesitated to make that ' Declaration about 
Denmark ', but Weyer's early opponent. Bishop Binsfeld, has no 
difficulties. Quoting Origen (in Matt. xvii. 15) he exclaims, 
' Physicians may say what they like, we who believe the Gospel 
hold that devils cause lunacy ' and many other diseases.' But 
for a demon to cause disease or do other harm, two things are 
requisite, the permission of God and the free will of some malicious 
person, witch, or sorcerer. The physician, Weyer, has denied the 
possibiHty of a compact with the devil, but is easily refuted by 

^ U. Molitor, Tractatus de lamiis, 1561, p. 27. 

2 Hutchinson, Historical Essay concerning Witchcraft, London, 1718, pp. 40, 
118, 120. 3 Op. cit., Preludium, i. 


Scripture and Church authority. Did not the devil try to make 
a compact with Christ Himself ? ^ Similarly he has no difficulty 
in showing that the Hebrew word for witch means much more 
than ' poisoner ', and, given the almost universal behefs of the 
age, it must be admitted that Brown and the bishop have the best 
of the argument. 

In the opening chapter of his weU-known work on rationalism, 
Lecky says that the decline of the beUef in Avitchcraft ' presents 
a spectacle not of argument and conflict, but of sUent evanescence 
and decay ' ; it was ' unargumentative and insensible '. Scot's 
work ' exercised no appreciable influence ', and, so far as the 
result was concerned, he, Weyer, and their like might as well 
have kept quiet and waited for the change to be effected by 
' what is called the spirit of the age ', that is, ' a gradual insen- 
sible yet profound modification of the habits of thought ' due to 
' the progress of civiHzation '. This theory has been ably criticized 
elsewhere.^ The truth it contains seems to be that argument 
would not have sufficed to change public opinion about witchcraft, 
without the aid of changes in other matters, and especially the 
development and success of scientific investigation. Such dis- 
coveries as the motion of the earth and circulation of the blood, 
when generally accepted (which was not tUl late in the seventeenth 
century), showed that the learned as weU as the vulgar might be 
utterly mistaken in important beliefs supported by apparently 
good evidence, and that scientific methods of attaining truth 
differed widely from those of the witch-hunters. 

The progress of civilization by practically abolishing the use 
of torture would alone have immensely diminished the number 
of victims, and of those ' confessions ' on which the belief was 
fed. To use military language, the witch mania was an ugly and 
formidable redoubt connected with other forts and entrenchments. 
It suffered somewhat from the bombardment by Weyer and 
Scot, but could only be finally demoKshed by a general advance 
of the forces of science and civilization. But if every one had 
trusted to ' the spirit of the age ' rather than disturb his neigh- 
bours' beliefs, we might still be burning our grandmothers. 

Though born in what is now Holland and educated in France, 
German writers claim Weyer as their countryman and compare 

1 Preludium, vi. 

2 J. M. Robertson, Letters on Reasoning, London, 1905, cap. vi. 


him with Martin Luther. The monk of Wittenberg is indeed a fine 
figure with his ' Here stand I ; I cannot otherwise, God help me ! ' 
But he had half Germany behind him ; both princes and populace 
were ready to protect him. Weyer stood practically alone, and if 
he escaped being burnt by jurists and theologians, had a fan- 
chance of being lynched by an enraged mob as a sorcerer and 
protector of witches. There was little to save him from torture 
and death but the strength of mind of Duke William of Cleves, 
who came of an insane family and already showed signs of 

Weyer was happily spared such a trial of his fortitude, but 
none the less does he deserve our admiration as the chivalrous 
champion of womanhood, who first, with vizor up and lance in 
rest, greeted, alas ! not, like the knights of legend, by prayers and 
blessings but by threats and imprecations, went forth to do open 
battle with the hideous monster which had so long tortured and 
slain the innocent and helpless. 

4 • 

. .'^-s^^ji^Tcsr'-TrT-r 






MS. MARSH 379 fo. 73 



By Rettben Levy 

Among modern authorities on Arabian medicine, the opinion 
has been widely held that the position of Maimonides as a 
medical writer must depend mainly upon an unpublished work 
from his hand, known as the Tractatus de Causis et Indiciis 
Morhorum.^ It is here sought to demonstrate that the Bodleian 
MS. (Marsh 379), hitherto regarded as containing this work, 
is in reality by another author, whUe the Paris MS. (BibHo- 
theque Rationale, Ancien Fonds 411),^ the only other alleged 
copy of the Tractatus de Causis et Indiciis Morhorum, contains 
in fact no such work. Moreover, evidence will be adduced showing 
that it is not probable that Maimonides composed a treatise of 
this scope. 

For their information concerning the Tractatus, the modern 
bibliographers evidently rely entirely on entries in the catalogues 
of the respective libraries. The 1739 Catalogue of Arabic and 
Hebrew MSS. in the Bibliotheque Nationale contains the follow- 
ing entry : ^ ' Codex bombycinus, Aleppo in bibliothecam Col- 
bertinam anno 1673 iUatus, quo continetur R. Mosis Maemonidae 
de morborum causis et Ulorum curatione tractatus, Arabice, 
charactere Hebraico.' Careful examination of the manuscript 
disclosed the fact that it contained no fewer than four works of 

1 See (a) H. Haeser, GeschicMe der Medizin, Jena, 1875-82, vol. i,. p. 596 ; 
(6) A. Hirsch, Biographisches Lexko nder hervorragenden Aerete, Leipzig, 1884, 
art. 'Maimonides', vol. i, p. 178 f. ; (c) K. Brockelmann, Geschkhte der ardbischen 
Litteratur, Weimar, 1897-1902, vol. i, p. 490. 

2 _. jjo. 1211 in Zotenberg's Catalogue, Paris, 1866. 
8 VoL i, p. 40, Cod. 411. 

1892 Q 


Maimonides, viz. on Poisons/ on Asthma,^ the Tractatus de Regi- 
mine Sanitatis,^ and the Tractatus de Morbo Regis Aegt/pti,^ all 
bound together in confusion.* AU these are known to be by 
Maimonides, and there is nothing besides them in the volume. 

There has always been a good deal of confusion about the 
works de Regimine Sanitatis and de Morbo Regis Aegypti. The 
former is variously known as de Regimine Sanitatis, de Cibo et 
Alimento, de Dietetica, ' the letter to the Sultan ', or as ' the Con- 
sultation concerning (the Sultan) Al Afdal '.* The latter also has 
a number of titles, such as de Causis Accidentium,'' de Morborum 
Gausis et Curatione, and Responsum ad Regem Raqqa, in addition 
to its title of de Morbo Regis Aegypti. In 1514, in Venice the two 
treatises were printed together in Latin as one work.^ 

Leclerc ® has made confusion worse confounded by saying that 
' ce que Ton a designe sous les titres, De Morbo Regis Aegypti, 
De Causis Accidentium, De Causis et Indiciis Morborum, De Cibo 
et Alimento, ne sont autre chose que tout ou partie du meme 
ouvrage '.^*' No doubt he was led into making this statement 

^ |.^,-J1 (j. Translated into Latin by Armengaud de Blaise of Montpellier ; 
into French by J. M. Eabbinowicz, TraiU des Poisons de Maimonide, Paris, 1865, 
and into German by M. Steinschneider, Grifte und Hire HeUimg, eine Abhandltmg des 
Moses Maimonides. Virchow's Archiv, LVII, vol. i, pp. 92-109. 

^ y}^ {j- Unprinted. We hope shortly to issue this work. 

^ is.jr^jj ^ otherwise ilLiiiH i)Ly. 'Letter to [the Sultan] al Afdal.' 
Printed in Latin "at Florence, n. d. ; Venice, 1514, 1521, &c. ; Leyden, 1535; in 
the Hebrew translation of Moses ibn Tibbon edited by Jacob Saphir ben Levi, 
Jerusalem, 1885; and in German by Wintemitz, Diatetisches Sendsehreiben des 
Maimonides, &c., Vienna, 1843. 

* Printed in the Latin edition [Venice, 1514] of the de Begimine Sanitatis as 
Tractatus V of that work. 

^ See L. Leclerc, Histoire de la midecine arabe, Paris, 1876, vol. ii, p. 60, and 
M. Steinschneider, Die hebraischen Ueberseteungen des MitteMters und die Juden dls 
Bolmetscher, Berlm, 1893, pp. 767, 772, 778. « ipuUill ilL^. 

' i>J/^^' V W ^J and also ^ji\je.'i\ jjU J = on the diagnosis of accidents. 

8 See note 4. " "9 Op. cit., vol. ii, p. 61. 

^ See Steinschneider, Hebraische Uebersetzungen, p. 770, and his Ckitalogus 
Librorum Hebraeorum in Bibl. Bodl, Berlin (1852-60), p. 1921. In the Zeitschrift 
der Morgenldndischen Gesellsch., voL xxx, p. 145, he makes the bare statement that 
the Tractatus de Causis et Indiciis Morborum— the Hauptwerk of Maimonides, as it is 
called by Haeser— rests upon an error. In his catalogue of Bodleian books (p. 1926) 
he puts the book down as a bookseller's fraud after what is obviously only a cursory 
glance. He says ' fraude bibliopolae ex variis opp. imperfectis confictus est, in 
quibus an Nostri sit aliquid non facile eruendiun est \ 


partly by the fact that Wiistenf eld ^ gives the title of de Causis 
et Indiciis Morborum both to the Bibliotheque Nationale MS. 
(which Leclerc knew as de Causis Accidentium) and to the 
Bodley MS. 

The entry concerning the latter in Uri's Bodleian Catalogue 
of 1787 ^ reads as foUows : 

' Codex bombycinus, anno Hegirae 765, Christi 1363 exaratus, 
folia 116 implens. Comprehendit succinctum de omnium corporis 
humani morborum causis, signis et remediis tractatum ab Ibn 
Hobaish Hierosolymitano ex Hebraica hngua in Arabicam con- 
versum, cui sectiones sex supra centum sunt. Initium fit a morbis 
capitis ; finis in elephantiasi. Composuit Musa Ben Maimun 
Alcortubi, Israelita. [Marsh 379.] ' 

The MS. bears upon one of its pages the title 

' This is the book of the causes and symptoms, by the Doctor 
Musa ibn Maimun the Cordovan, the Israelite.' (Plate xli.) 

Aa a matter of fact it is no such thing. This title, together 
with an extra title-page and colophon in the sarae hand, is a much 
later addition to the MS., which also has a fragment of some 
other medical work — at present unidentified — bound up with it. 
The folios of the MS. which deal with the Tractatus have been 
bound together in extreme disorder, but examination of them 
has shown that they reaUy form a fragment of the second book 
of J>iaJi (^ji^Usm, the Delectus de Medicina, hjy>\ e>Jtc>Jl oj-^^ 

t_5olt>J43l cM^^ cy-? (^ ChAiu^l, Muhaddib ed Din Abu'l Hasan 
Ali Ibn Ahmad of Bagdad.* 

Ibn Abi 'Usaibia (1203-1269)* gives a life of this writer and 
a list of his works, which includes the Delectus de Medicina. Accord- 

1 H. F. WUstenfeld, GeschicMe d. ardbischen Aerzte, Gettingen, 1840, § 198, No. 7. 

2 BMiothecae Bodleianae codicum manuscriptorum Orientalium . . . catalogus 
a Joanne Uri confectus, Oxford, 1787, vol. i, p. 140, No. 594. 

3 Also known aa J^^ill (of Akhlat) or ti^jyJl (of Tibriz) and as J-a ,^.1 
(Ibn Hubal). 

* Ibn Abi 'Usaibia wrote an invaluable dictionary of the lives of the most 
noted physicians, entitled 'Ll.^1 eylaJ> j 'Uii^ ojiP- m^(= The book of the sources 
of information concerning the various' classes of physicians). It is especially full 
on the lives of Arab physicians. See the edition of A. MuUer, Konigsberg, 1884, 
vol. i, pp. 304-6. 



ing to him, Muhaddib ed Din was bqrn at Bagdad in a. h. 515 
(= A. D. 1121), and' after studying medicine and philosophy settled 
at Mosul. Later he became the physician of the Shah Arman, 
chieftain of Khalat on Lake Van in Armenia, in whose service 
he amassed great wealth. He completed the Delectus at Mosul 
in the year a. h. 560 (= a. d. 1164), and died there in a. h. 610 
(=A. D. 1213), with the reputation of being first physician of his 

Another fragment of the same work of Muhaddib ed Din, 
which includes most of the contents of the Bodleian MS., besides 
a good deal of material which has been lost from the latter, exists 
in the British Museum.^ The Leyden Library contains a unique 
copy of the work in three books. This is claimed to be complete by 
the Catalogue of the library,^ although Bar Hebraeus [1226-1286] 
— Catholicus of the Jacobite (Monophysite) Church ^ — says that 
the work ran into four parts.* The three books of the Leyden MS. 
treat (i) of generalities (i. e. Anatomy, Physiology, and the general 
causes of disease), (ii) of medicaments, and (iii) of particular 
diseases and their treatment. 

The Bodleian and British Museum MSS. contain part of the 
third book, which was probably in general use by itself as a dic- 
tionary of medicine. The British Museum copy has only lost the 
earher chapters of this third part, but the Bodleian MS., although 
possessing a few more chapters at the beginning, is far less complete 
in the other portions.* 

Wiistenfeld and the bibliographers that followed him have 

1 C. Eieu, Sujfplement to the Arabic MSS. in the Brit. Mus., London, 1894, 
No. 796, II. 

2 Vol. iii, p. 242 of the Catalogue of Arabic MSS. compiled by P. de Jong and 
M. J. de Goeje, Leyden, 1865-6. 

* Abu'l Faraj Gregory, Bar Hebraeus (WUstenfeld, op. cit.. No. 240). 

* In his work entitled J^jJl J j-:^ ^.p, 'Compendious History of the 
Dynasties ' (edited and translated by E. Pocock, Oxford, 1663), p. 457 f. of the 
Arabic and p. 300 of the Latin. Beyrout edition, 1890, p. 420. 

^ Two MSS. of the work are mentioned in the Catalogue of the Khedive's 
library, ij^.ii- uli'Lii e*-^, vol. vi, p. 38. For further references concerning 
Muhaddib ed Din and his works, see (a) WOstenfeld, op. cit., § 202 ; (6) Brockel- 
mann, op. cit, voL i, p. 490 ; (c) P. de Koning, Traite sur le calcul, Leyden, 
pp. 186-228. The more important Arab authors other than Ibn Abi "Usaibia are : 
(d) Bar Hebraeus, Pocock's edition, p. 457 of theArabic part and p. 300 of the Latin 
part, Beyrout edition, p. 420; (e) Haji Khalfa, G. Fluegel's edition, Leipzig and 
London, 1885-58, vol. v, p. 436, No. 11584. 


evidently derived their information concerning these MSS. from 
the catalogues of the Bodleian Library and of the Bibliotheque 
Nationale. No mediaeval bibliographer has up to the present been 
found who mentions this book of Maimonides.^ Wiistenfeld's 
usual authority for his statements is the great thirteenth-century 
medical biographer, Ibn Abi 'Usaibia. But, though the latter 
gives a life of the Hebrew physician and a list of his writiags,^ he 
makes no mention of the Tractatus de Gausis et Indiciis Morborum. 
Moreover, this Tractatus has no place in Haji KhaUa's admirable 
bibliography of Arabic works, which contains notices of four 
books bearing the title De Gausis et Indiciis Morborum, not one 
of which is by Maimonides. Lastly, neither the historian Al 
Qifty in his Glasses philosophorum et astronomorum et medicorum,^ 
nor Bar Hebraeus, who is said to have plagiarized him,* notice 
the work ia their sketches of the physician's life. 

The Bodleian MS. alleged to contain the Tractatus is one of 
a collection of over seven hundred volumes bequeathed to the 
library on his death, November 2, 1713, by Narcissus Marsh, 
Archbishop successively of Cashel, Dublin, and Armagh. Most of 
his Oriental MSS. had been procured for him either in the East 
by Robert Huntiagton, Bishop of Raphoe and chaplain to the 
English merchants at Aleppo, or at the sale of Golius's Hbrary 
at Leyden in October 1696.* Golius was a Dutch orientaHst, 
bom at Leyden in 1596. He studied medicine and. Oriental 
languages at the University of Leyden, and after leaving it he 
accompanied a French embassy to Morocco in 1622. He remained 
in Morocco for two years, and while there collected various 
MSS. On his retiim in 1624 he was appointed to the Chair of 
Arabic at Leyden, but was allowed a period of leave for travel 
in the East before taking up his appointment. He took with him 
a grant of money for the purchase of MSS., and these to the 
number of over two hundred are now deposited in the University 

^ See J. Pagel, ' Maimuni als medizinisclier Schriftsteller ', in the volume of 
studies on ' Moses ben Maimon ' edited by W. Bacber and others, Leipzig, 1908, 
voL i, p. 232. 

2 Op. cit., vol. ii, p. 117. 

2 'UjIII) fV?^^ v)Ui-o)j 'U5QJ eyloJj in MS. at British Museum (see Catalogue 
of Oriental MSS. at the British Museum, London, 1846, part II, No. 1503, p. 684), 
Leyden, Berlin, Escurial, and elsewhere. See Brockelmann, op. cit., vol. i, p. 325. 

* See Leclerc, op. cit., vol. i, p. 5. 

* See W. D. Macray, Annals of the Bodleian, Oxford, 1890, p. 270. 


Library at Leyden. On several occasions during his travels in 
Arabia attempts were made by Arab chiefs to detain him for 
his medical knowledge, but he returned safely and later wrote 
a number of works mainly concerned with Arabic, He died 
in 1667. 

Among the MSS. which Golius himself procured for the Leyden 
Library was that of the Delectus. It is at least unlikely therefore 
that such a profound Arabist, who was also a medical man, would 
have bought the Bodley fragment for a genuine work of Mai- 
monides ; the primary responsibiUty for the error thus probably 
rests with Huntington. However that may be, it was Uri, in his 
catalogue of the Bodleian MSS., who first published the error, 
and from him it was passed on to the modern bibliographers. 

John Uri was a Hungarian who had studied Oriental literature 
under Schultens at Leyden, and was recommended to Archbishop 
Seeker for the purpose of cataloguing the Bodleian Oriental MSS., 
by Sir Joseph Yorke, then ambassador in the Netherlands.-*^ Many 
years were occupied in the preparation of the work, which appears 
to have commenced in 1766 and was not completed till 1787. In 
spite of the length of time which Uri occupied in his task, his 
successor, Pusey, found sufficient errors in it to fill sixty closely 
printed pages. In his preface to the second volume of the 
Catalogue, issued in 1835,^ Pusey complains ' Urius vero MSS. 
haud raro negligenter exscripsit ', and says that on re-examina- 
tion of Uri's work he discovered, ' besides the errors which Uri 
himself would have admitted, that nearly aU the purchasers of 
these books, Pocock alone excepted, had had spurious works 
foisted on them by wily Orientals. He therefore looked through 
all the books which Uri had enumerated, excepting the more 
common ones, to see if they corresponded to their titles or not. 
By doing this he discovered various irregularities. In some cases 
the titles had been covered over with paper or obliterated with 
ink, or practically erased with a knife. In others, by slight changes 
in the authors' names, more famous people were indicated as 
responsible for the works. Lastly, by changing the pagination 
in some of the volumes fragments were represented as complete 

1 See Macray's Annals of the Bodleian, p. 271, and the Diet, of National 

2 BibliotJiecae Bodleianae codicum numuscriptortim . . . catahgtts, vol. ii, ed. 
A. Nicoll and E. B. Pusey, Oxford, 1835, p. iv. 


works, and a few pages of one work were even occasionally sewn 
on at the beginning of another.' ^ 

Uri's errors will be the more readily condoned when it is 
remembered that he did not speciahze on the Arabic MSS. alone, 
and that his work seeks to catalogue, for the first time, a two 
hundred years' accumulation of Oriental MSS., including Hebrew, 
Aramaic, Syriac, Aethiopic, Arabic, Persian, Turkish, and Coptic 
writings. Nevertheless, Uri's entry with reference to the present 
MS. deserves some of Pusey's criticism. The MS. has three 
parts, each written in a different hand, the first and most important 
part being the supposed Tractatus de Causis et Indiciis Morborum, 
which covers folios 2-87. The second part is a fragment of some 
as yet unidentified medical work (folios 88-115); and the third, 
consisting of the first and last fohos, gives us an introduction and 
an end piece to the first part. 

The alleged author and translator are named on the first page: 

' This is the book of Musa ibn Maimun which he put together 
as a compilation for general use. Al Tamimi, the sheikh Sulai- 
man the Abyssinian, known as Ibn Hubaish,^ translated it in the 
noble city of Jerusalem. Finis.' 

' 'Praeter errores enim quos ipse admiserit Urius, deprehendi omnibus fere 
horum librorum emptoribus, uno Pocockio excepto, libros supposititios pro veris 
subinde venditasse vafros Orientales. Codices ergo fere universes Arabicos, quos 
recensuit Urius (vulgatioribus quibusdam exceptis) oculis perlustravi, quo certius 
scirem titulisne responderent an non. Quo facto varias errorum formas deprehendi, 
titulis nunc charta coopertis, nunc atramento oblitis, nunc cultro paene abrasis ; 
auctorum porro nomioibus paullulum immutatis quo notiora quaedam referrent, 
numeris etiam quibus singula volumina signata sunt permutatis, quo quia opus 
imperfectum pro integro habeat, paginis denique pauculis operi alieno a fronte assutis.' 

2 Steinschneider (Gat. LU>r. Hebr. in Bibl. JBodl., p. 1926) says this title is 
invented and no doubt suggested by the name of Al Tamimi al Muqaddasi (the 
Jerusalemite), a doctor of the tenth century (Wtistenfeld, § 112) often praised by 
Maimonides in the Aphorisms, e. g. at the end of chap. 20. Pusey's only note on 
Uri's entry in the MS. is concerned vrfth this title (vol. ii, p. 588) : ' Translator in 
Cod. appellatur Alsheikh Soleiman Alhabashi, notus in terra Hierosolymitana 
nomine Ibn Hubaish. Opus autem a. d, 1363 ex Hebraico transtulit.' 

On tlie next page there is an introduction to the book which 

commences: „ , tt nt 

^As^yi ^^UA-yl 5JJ1 (^*u3 

' In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate.^ 
' So says Musa ibn Maimun, the Cordovan, the Israehte,' &c. 

The whole of the passage is an extract from chapter vi of the 
Aphorisms of Maimonides, adapted as a kind of introduction, and 
runs as follows : 
iyi\j 9^\y^\ •iyi\j s^A^uoUJ! »y ^J \<:>A ^y ^ cy^ oi 

i^\ (Jkjcci jws.^Uo «\ «fcAs\3^ H^.^^^- <->^*«»^ (_s^ ^' t_>/*!^ (_^ 
(;/l,>v^^ tf^cAl ijjiiiy tJv<y^ c_r**^ C5^ <J^. -^y-^ ^--^ jU^JaJl 

Trans. ' I teach in this discourse of mine concerning the 
animal power, the vital power, and the natural power, but we will 
here caU aU man's bodUy fimctions by one name. There is a 
saying that the noblest of the functions is breathing, next the 
pulse, and lastly the senses. Of the senses, the noblest is sight, 
which is followed by hearing. Following on the senses is the 
appetite for food and drink, after it being speech and then the 
mind; I mean that which contains the reason and the intellect. 
Next comes the [?] allocation of [the various powers to] the other 
parts of the body according to the customary manner. This 
arrangement in order of nobility is only according to the require- 
ments of life or [?] health. 

'You will recognize that "natiure" is an equivocal term 
which can be used in many meanings. [One of these meanings,] 
for example, is "the motive power of animals". So, too, is 

[??...]' and that which is nobler. And you will retain the 
noblest of the noble [functions]. And these causes which we have 


noticed we have set down in their order ; and the beginning is 
concerning catarrhal discharges from the head,' 

Compare with this the real text of Maimonides : ^ 

DxytsbN ninB' dndhnSx nyni yibD^N on ♦nsn'^K dnimSx c)ia'N"i 
"* '"'?sS?''^ '^"'^'' NmNnyx: *Sy xifyxSN n'XD hb^in iSxn npi ^ssSni 
^by "^Np* ^^wb DDK ny^riD^N |n nSyn'ps hbipbha mn nyni 

'i'N ^■^ nipSx mni ny^nta 'k^x nhji^d' n^dn'^n nhjns 

t)-iB'N'?N£! f\i^hii^ n^Di^n) e)-)B'N Nin n;53 rhi^ i^hi |y nnbj jnu 

' Thou knowest the opinion of the physicians [concerning] 
animal power, vital power, and natural power. But it is my 
intention here to call all the functions of man's body by the one 
name of " bodily functions ". [The noblest of the functions is 
breathing, next the piilse,^] and lastly the senses. Of the senses, 
the noblest is sight, which is followed by hearing. Following on 
the senses is the appetite for food and drink, after it being speech 
and then the mind, by which I mean the thoughts and the 
intellect. Next comes the motion of the other parts of the body 
according to their customary manner. This arrangement in order 
of nobiHty is only according to the requirements of Hfe or the 
health of its faculties. 

' From this preface you will recognize that " nature " is an 
eqiiivocal term which can be used in many meanings. One of 
these meanings [for example] is " the motive power in the bodies 
of animals " which the physicians caU " nature " too. . . . And if 
you discover this, you will exchange that which is nobler and 
retain that which is noblest. By means of this process of arrange- 
ment, a disease can be recognized,' &c. 

' From the text of the Aphorisms as given in the Bodleian MS. Pocoek 319. 
* Omitted from the MS. obviously by accident, 
■s No doubt for nam. 


This introduction was added when the folios stood in a state 
of disorder different from their present one. The catchword at 
the bottom of the page []d^j = and this] points forward to the 
title aheady mentioned,^ which appears on folio thirty-nine of the 
present arrangement. The text below this title is part of the chapter 
on discharges and catarrh, so that the foHo once followed imme- 
diately on the introduction, being then, too, out of its proper place. 

The last page, written in the same hand as the introduction, 
bears a piece of some unidentified work and a colophon which reads : 

t_5t%r*^' ^y-(y^ cy^' (.j^y '^^^'^ lMj^^ olxDI lt>A ,^ o^^ 
sJyaJ Otyj^ '4,\.A} oIa53| !c>* ^j^J '^^ ^ 'JJl JU^s^j ^^^.l^,^^! 
2^:1*^.1 (_^ !Uij U-o Vi^cv^l o-^ly' (s*") (^6*^^ cJy^^ e>A»^ jwl^ 

' This noble book is finished ; the composition of Musa ibn 
Maimun the Cordovan, the Israelite, to whom God be gracious. 
This blessed book is part of that which he composed and tested. 
The number of its chapters is 106, dealing with all the diseases 
of the body, which he arranged in their proper order. 

' The book was completed in the year 765.' ^ 

The number 106, which according to the colophon is the 
number of chapters in the book, is really the number of titles 
in the MS. written in large hand. Fragments of many chapters 
whose titles are lost still remain in it however, while many of the 
chapters that have preserved their titles are no longer complete. 

Again it may be pointed out that all the known medical 
works of Maimonides were written in Arabic and therefore did 
not need to be translated into that language as the Bodleian MS. 
claims to have been. The spurious title-page thus further betrays 
itself by saying that this work was translated from Hebrew. 

Finally, the identification of the real contents of the Paris MS. 
disposes of the last foundation of the idea that Maimonides wrote 
any compendium of medicine known as i^Ui^jJjJL c->Ljuj|s5\ lJoS 
{Tractatus de Gausis et Indiciis Morhorum), and clears up the 
confusion caused by the faulty entries in the Paris and Bodleian 

1 See p. 227. 

^ = A. D. 1363. The numerals which accompany the written figures are 
equivalent to 6,527 and are meaningless. 


By F. C. S. Schiller 

§ 1. Among the obstacles to scientific progress a high place 
must certainly be assigned to the analysis of scientific procedure 
which Logic has provided. This analysis has not only been 
inadequate in itself, but has set itself a mistaken aim. It has not 
tried to describe the methods by which the sciences have actually 
advanced, and to extract from their experience the logical rules 
which might be used to regulate scientific progress, but has treated 
scientific discoveries almost entirely as illustrations of a precon- 
ceived ideal of proof, and so has freely rearranged the actual 
procedure in accordance with its prejudices. For the order of 
discovery there has been substituted an order of ' proof ', and this 
substitution has been justified by the assumption that if discovery 
had taken the ideally best course, it would have coincided with 
the process of proof. It followed, of course, that the same logic 
would do for both, and that this logic was already in existence. 

The damage thus inflicted upon Science was twofold. Not only 
were the logicians given a plausible excuse for persisting in their 
profound misapprehension of scientific inquiry and rendered in- 
capable of giving any help or guidance in the solution of actual 
problems, but, what was much worse, the scientists themselves 
were misled about the nature of their operations. 

The precise value of the service which a correct logical analysis 
of its procedure might have rendered to Science is perhaps open 
to dispute, though it must surely be beneficial to operate con- 
sciously, and with a full understanding of their nature, the methods 
which have been hit upon empirically ; but even if logicians have 
commonly been too unfamiliar with the details of scientific problems 
to offer much practical advice, it would be difficult to overrate the 
mischiefs which must have resulted from referring scientists to an 
incorrect analysis of their actual procedures. For the attempt to 
justify by such a false ideal what they had actually done was 
bound to divert their attention from the methods that were 
actually effective and fruitful to others which were impracticable 


and sterile, to waste energy upon false aims and impossible ideals, 
and so to hamper scientists fatally in the exercise of their scientific 
rights and powers. 

Hence it is not too much to say that the more deference men 
of science have paid to Logic, the worse it has been for the scientific 
value of their reasoning, while the less they have troubled to know 
about the theory of Science, the better it has been for their practice. 

Fortunately for the world, however, the great men of science 
have usually been kept in salutary ignorance of the logical tradition 
and left to their own devices, by the accident that the historical 
organization of academic studies nearly everywhere confined 'logic' 
to the literary curriculum. Nevertheless, the moral of this situation 
is not that it is right for science to neglect logic and for logic to 
despise science, but that science should appeal from logic as it is 
. to logic as it ought to be, and should insist on being provided with 
a reformed logic. For surely if a scientific education is to be more 
than a narrow and technical specialty, and is to exert a ' liberaliz- 
ing ' and broadening effect on the mind, it oiiglit to include a study 
of scientific method in its generality and a certain understanding 
of the intellectual instruments by which all others are operated 
and constructed. 

The whole evidence for these contentions it will not, of course, 
be possible to marshal within the limits of this essay, but the 
systematic criticism to which the whole traditional logic has been 
subjected in my Formal Logic ^ may perhaps absolve me from the 
duty of substantiating them exhaustively. It may suffice to 
indicate the extent of the scientific grievance against ' logic ' by 
drawing up a list of problems in the logic of science which the 
traditional logic has misconceived, and then to select for fuller 
treatment a palmary example of the radical discrepancy between 
the two. 

The traditional logic may be convicted of having gravely mis- 
represented, (1) the value of classification and the formation of 
classes, scientific processes of which the real logic was only revealed 
by the Darwinian theory, (2) the function of definition, (3) the 
importance of analogy, (4) of hypothesis and (5) of fictions, (6) the 
incomplete dependence of scientific results on the ' principles ' by 
which they are (apparently) obtained, (7) the formation of scientific 
' law ' and its relation to its ' cases ', (8) the nature of causal 
1 Published by Macmillans, 1912. 


analysis. Other important features of scientific procedure cannot 
be said to have been recognized at all, e. g. (9) the problem of 
determining what is relevant to an inquiry and what practically 
must be, and safely may be, excluded, (10) the methods and 
justification of selection, (11) the essentially experimental nature 
of all thought and consequent inevitableness of risk, (12) the 
necessity of so conceiving ' truth ' and ' error ' that it is possible 
to discriminate between them, and (13) the need for an inquiry 
into meaning and into the conditions of its communication. 

§ 2. The most instructive, however, of the discrepancies be- 
tween ' logic ' and scientific procedure will appear if we compare 
the logical notion of proof with the scientific process of discovery, 
and examine how far it can afford any means of regulating, stimu- 
lating, or even apprehending the latter. We shall find that the 
logical theory of ' proof ' has no bearing on the scientific process 
of discovery, is not related to what the sciences call proof, and 
can only have a paralysing influence on any scientific activities 
which try to model themselves upon it. On the other hand, the 
study of the process of discovery will point to an important 
correction in the notion of logic. 

§ 3. The scientific uselessness of the traditional logic should 
not, however, excite surprise. For what reason was there to expect 
that the theory of proof should turn out to be adequate, or even 
relevant, to scientific procedure ? It had sprung from a totally 
different interest, proceeded on different assumptions, and aimed 
at different ends. It did not spring from interest in the exploration 
of nature, and did not aim at its prediction and control. Nor did 
it presuppose an incomplete system of knowledge which it was 
desired to extend and improve. It originated in a very special 
context, from the social need of regulating the practice of dia- 
lectical debate in the Greek schools, assembhes, and law-coxirts. 
It was necessary to draw up rules for determining which side had 
won, and which of the points that had been scored were good. 

These were the aims Greek logic set itself, and successfully 
achieved. But the impress of this origin remains stamped all 
over it, and the accounts given of logical proof ever sLace have 
retained essential features of Greek dialectics. 


Thus it was assumed that science could start from principles, 
as indisputable as are the current meanings of words in a dialectical 
debate, and the end of the whole theory of proof was always con- 
ceived as being to secure the conviction {e\eyxo<s) of one party to 
a dispute, who was to be definitely crushed by the triumphant 
cogency of a syllogistic demonstration, while the more real and 
fruitful analogy between scientific inquiry and debate, viz. that 
there is always another side, to which also it is well to listen, was 
unfortunately obscured by Aristotle's discovery of the syllogistic 
form and its show of conclusiveness. But for the purpose of 
apprehending scientific procedure the syllogism is a snare : by 
putting scientific reasoning into syllogisms, the difference between 
the true and the false views is made to appear quahtative and 
absolute, instead of being a quantitative question of more or less 
of scientific value. Thus dogmatism is fostered at the expense of 
progressiveness, and the mistake is committed of approaching the 
discovery of truth in a party spirit. Hence its dialectical origin 
has become fons et origo malorum for logic. 

§ 4. It is true that this mistake is very old, and has grown 
deeply into the fabric of logic. For Aristotle had no sooner worked 
out the classic formulation of the rules of dialectical proof than 
he proceeded to extend their scope by applying them to the theory 
of science, in the Posterior Analytics. His instinct in so doing was 
sound enough ; for there is no better verification of a theory than 
its capacity to bear extension to analogous cases. And of course 
if this extension had been successful, it would have supported the 
behef that the theory of discovery could profitably be amalgamated 
with that of proof. 

Unfortunately, however, the verification only seemed to be 
successful. Aristotle chose to exemplify his theory of scientific 
proof from the mathematical sciences. His choice was natural 
enough, because they were the only sciences which had reached 
any considerable development in his day, and they had, moreover, 
an apparent necessity and universality and a fascinating appear- 
ance of exactness. But he had unwittingly chosen the most difficult 
and deceptive exempHfication of scientific procedure. Because 
the mathematical sciences were in a relatively advanced condition 
they seemed to lend themselves to his design. He could there 
find terms whose meaning, and principles whose truth, was no 
longer in dispute. They could in consequence be argued from 


with as mucli assurance as debaters could assume the recognized 
meanings of words. And the fact that results seemed to follow 
from mathematical definitions and premisses which were not merely 
verbal, shed a delusive glory on the forms of dialectical proof by 
which they had been reached. Hence it easily escaped notice that 
the logical superiority of mathematics was an achievement, not 
a datum. Just because the mathematical sciences were very 
ancient, their origins had been forgotten, and with them the 
tentative gropings which had first selected, and subsequently con- 
firmed, their principles. They had become immediately certain 
and ' self-evident ', and no one was disposed to dispute them. On 
this psychological fact the whole theory of logical proof was 

Again, it was natural to suppose that the true nature of 
scientific knowing must be revealed in its most perfect specimens : 
no one stopped to reflect that even so the real difficulties of making 
a science are more keenly felt and more easily seen in the nascent 
stage than in one which has victoriously overcome them, and has 
rewritten its history in the assurance of its prosperous issue. 

Lastly, the subtle ambiguity which pervades all mathematical 
reasoning, according as its terms are taken as pure or as applied, 
was overlooked entirely — ^with the disastrous result that the uni- 
versality, certainty, and exactness pertaining (hypothetically) to 
the ideal creations of ' pure ' mathematics were erroneously trans- 
ferred to their ' appUed ' counterparts. To this day logicians are 
found to argue that real space is homogeneous because it is con- 
venient in EucUdean geometry to abstract from the multitu- 
dinous deformations to which bodies moving through it are 
subjected, and to leave them to be treated by physics;^ nor are 
they aware of any lack of 'exactness' and discrimination when they 
identify the ideal triangle with the figures they draw on the black- 

§ 5. After its apparent success in analysing mathematical pro- 
cedure there was no more disputing the supremacy of the theory of 
' proof. The facts that its field of application was soon foimd to be 
much narrower than that of science, and that it failed egregiously 
to apply to the procedures of the (openly) empirical sciences, and 
a fortiori could not justify them, if they were noticed at aU, were 
held merely to show that these sciences stood on a low level of 
1 Of. Mr. H. W. B. Joseph's Logic \ p. 648. 


thought, which from the loftier standpoint of logic could be con- 
templated only with contempt ; if they required help and got 
none, so much the worse for them. Accordingly the whole theory 
of science was so interpreted, and the whole of logic was so con- 
structed, as to lead up to the ideal of demonstrative science, 
which in its turn rested on a false analogy which assimilated it 
to the dialectics of 'proof. Does not this mistake go far to 
account for the neglect of experience and the unprogressiveness 
of science for nearly 2,000 years after Aristotle ? 

§ 6. Yet the deplorable consequences of this error should not 
render us unjust. The influence of AristoteHan logic on the theory 
of science was natural, and in a sense deserved. For Aristotelian 
logic is perhaps the mightiest discovery any man has achieved 
single-handed. Its might is sufficiently attested by the length of 
its reign. Euclidean geometry alone is comparable with it, and 
Euchd owed far more to his predecessors than Aristotle. More- 
over, the AristoteHan logic may be said to have achieved its 
purpose. It was able to regulate dialectical discussion. The 
syllogism did determine whether a disputant had proved his case, 
and for any one who had accepted its assumptions its decision 
was final, while even its severest critics had to admit that it 
was an indisputable fact, the interpretation of which was a real 

Unfortunately, there is not yet any agreement among logicians 
about the solution of this problem. Aristotle's own analysis did 
not go back far enough : he stopped short at the Dictum de Omni 
and the reduction of syllogisms in the second and third figures to 
the first. He did not penetrate to the ultimate assumptions which 
were implied in the dialectical purpose and social function of the 
syllogism. But the truth is that syllogistic reasoning presupposes 
qviite a number of conventions which Aristotle did not state, and 
which can hardly be said to have been adequately recognized 

§ 7. (1) The first of these may be called the Fixity of Terms. 
Syllogistic reasoning manifestly depends on the assumption that 
the terms occurring in it have meanings sufficiently stable to stand 
transplantation from one context to another ; for only so can they 
establish connexions between one context and another. Thus 
a syllogism in Barbara argues that because all M is P and all S 
is M, all S must be P. But it can do this ' validly ' only if M, its 


middle term, remains immutably itself, and is the same in both 
premisses. Doubt, dispute, or confute this assumption, and the 
cogency of the syllogism as a form of ' proof ' is overthrown at 
once. If the sense in which M is P is not the same as that in which 
S is M, the syllogism breaks in two, and its conclusion becomes 
precarious. Raise the question of how far reality conforms to 
this assumption, and you get at once a subtle problem of the 
applicability of the syllogistic form to the case in hand, which is 
precisely analogous to the question whether a theorem of pure 
mathematics is applicable to the behaviour of a real thing. In 
either case the cogency of the ' proof ' which establishes the con- 
clusion is impaired and ceases to be unconditional. The conclusion 
of a ' valid ' syllogism will only follow */ the middle term can be 
known to be unambiguous, and if the objects designated by the 
terms do not change rapidly enough to defeat the inference. And 
that this is the case can usually be ascertained only by actual 
experience. The conclusion, therefore, cannot be simply deduced ; 
it has actually to come true, before we can be sure that the reasoning 
was sound. Absolutely a priori proof thus becomes impossible, 
if the assumption of the fixity of terms is contested : all proof 
becomes, in a sense, empirical. 

Nevertheless, experience shows that the fixity of terms, though 
not a ' fact ', is a valid '^ fiction ' : in ordinary discussion the terms 
may usually be taken as fixed enough to render valid syllogisms 
common. An ordinary debate proceeds upon the assumption that 
the meaning of the terms involved is fixed, and cannot be varied 
arbitrarily. To science, however, this assumption does not apply 
without restriction. In a progressive science the meaning of terms 
often develops so rapidly that such verbal reasoning does not 
suffice. Hence the mere occurrence of verbal contradictions in 
a scientific reasoning is no proof that the argument is unsound. 
It may show merely that its terms are growing. 

It should be observed further that this same assumption is 
implied in the fundamental ' laws of thought ' on which the 
traditional logic rests. Indeed, the notorious ' Law of Identity ' 
seems to be merely another statement of it. It is usually formu- 
lated a,s '' A is A\ but in its actual logical use it is really the 
assumption that ' everything is what it is called '. It is, of course, 
anything but self-evident that 'J.' is A, but unless the S, M, 
and P of the syllogism are rightly so called, the syllogism will not 

1892 p. 


hold. Similarly, the Law of Contradiction collapses at once if the 
terms to which it is applied are allowed to change. The inability 
of ' ^ ' both to be B and not to be B vanishes if ' ^ ' is not fixed 
and may change its habits. And of course the real things known 
to science all change, and are fixed only by a fiction. Hence every 
application of the logical convention to real things may be chal- 
lenged : it involves a fiction and takes a risk, and both of these 
may be bad. But the traditional logic ignores both the risk and 
the fiction and the lack of cogency in its attitude. 

§ 8. (2) It is a further presupposition of the syllogism that the 
meaning of its terms is known. When a discussion is begun the 
parties to it are supposed to understand each other, and not to 
have first to find out and form the meaning of the terms they use. 
This assumption also is roughly true in ordinary debate, and its 
convenience is manifest. If things are rightly named, and if this 
feat has been accompUshed once for all — presumably by Adam 
and Eve before they were turned out of Paradise for trying to. 
know too much — we shall escape many of the most trying diffi- 
culties of scientific inquiry. We need no longer trouble whether 
the best names have been given, and whether a name good for 
one purpose is equally good for another, nor need we inquire 
whether our names may not unite what is alien on account of 
a superficial likeness, or separate what is akin on account of a 
superficial difference. 

In science, on the other hand, the assumption that we know what 
meanings our terms can convey is not made as a matter of course. 
We may begin with roughly labelling objects of interest, and then 
inquiries may be conducted into, e.g., 'electricity', 'elements', 
' life ', ' species ', &c., in the hope of settling what these terms shall 
mean, and of finding out more about their meaning, and without 
making the assumption that whatever new facts are discovered 
about them must conform to our preconceptions and confirm our 
nomenclature. Thus to a man of science it will not be cogent to 
argue that because an ' element ' is (by definition) an ultimate 
form of matter which cannot be broken up, and ' radium ' breaks 
up, ' radium ' is not an ' element ', or that because ' species ' are 
eternal forms, and the Darwinian theory claims that they are not 
immutable, it can be dismissed as involving the ' contradiction ' 
that a ' species ' is not a species. Thus the best syllogisms lose 
their cogency so soon as a question is raised whether the verbal 


identity of their terms is an adequate guarantee of the real identity 
of the things they are applied to. 

§ 9. (3) It is a further presupposition of the logician's con- 
ception of ' proof ' that absolute truths exist, and that in the 
ideal demonstration they form the premisses from which the con- 
clusion follows. This presupposition is not stated, and is not 
implied in the form of the syllogism. For a syllogism is no less 
' valid ' if its premisses are true only hypothetically, and not 
absolutely. Indeed, it is not thought to impair the ' validity ' of 
a syllogism that its premisses should be utterly false. At any 
rate we can reason quite as well with hypotheses and probabilities 
as with absolute truths, and this is in fact what we usually do, 
whether or not we are aware that our premisses are conditional 
and hypothetical. This ordinary practice, however, is resented by 
the traditional logic. For if our premisses are only hypothetically 
true, how can they lead to conclusions which can be declared 
absolutely true ? And if our conclusions are not absolutely true, 
how can they be certain ? Are they not bound to remain infected 
with the doubts which beset their premisses ? ^ As we value the 
certainty of our conclusions, therefore, absolutely true and certain 
premisses must be procured. If they cannot be procured, even 
the best formal proofs will remain hypothetical, and all truth will 
become dependent on experience. For if nothing is true abso- 
lutely, and every truth has originated humbly in a guess that has 
grown into a successful hypothesis, it can always be suggested 
that after all it may benefit by a little more verification. It may 
be true enough psychologically and for practical purposes, but it 
does not realize the ideal of 'logical certainty'. 

§ 10. This ideal Logic has formulated from the first. Aristotle 
already was not content with merely analysing the form of reason- 
ing ; he aspired to formulate the norm of scientific demonstration. 
The ' demonstrative syllogism ', which he held to be the form of 
truly scientific reasoning, differs from the formal syllogism in two 
essential respects. Its premisses are absolutely true, and its middle 
term states the real 'cause', which connects its terms and is not 
merely a ratio cognoscendi. The reasoning proceeds, therefore, 
from premisses which are unambiguous, true, and certain, i. e. 
necessarily true and absolutely certain. Nor does the conclusion 
lose any of this excellence. Logic puts on a fine air of modesty, 

1 Cf. §§ 10, 28. 



and merely claims that the syllogistic form is a guarantee that 
no truth can be lost on the way from the premisses to the con- 
clusion in a 'valid' argument. If, therefore, our thought is 
properly arranged, our conclusion will be as true and certain as 
were its premisses, and no man will be able to gainsay it. It is 
the great beauty and merit of the syllogistic form that it is an 
arrangement which gives us this guarantee. 

It was natural, therefore, that throughout the history of logic 
enormous importance should be attached to the acquisition of 
unquestionable starting-points. For the possession of ' valid 
forms' was not enough. It only insured against loss of truth, 
it did not provide for its acquisition. It seemed, however, to 
imply that truth could only be generated out of truth, and handed 
down from the premisses to the conclusion. Hence the insistent 
demand for assured starting-points, self-evident ' principles ', 
which the infallible method of syllogistic deduction might con- 
duct to equally certain conclusions. 

In reality, however, this demand for certainty was extra- 
logical : it is not required for the purpose of analysing reasoning. 
For it is just as easy to reason from doubtful and probable pre- 
misses as from certainties, nor need the doubt in the reasoner's 
mind afEect the form of the reasoning. If, however, there is an 
imperative desire for certainty, it must be somehow gratified by 
logic. And there seemed to be no way of doing so except by 
ascribing absolute truth and certainty to the initial principles of 

Of course it was covertly assumed that certainty could only 
be reached by starting from certainty, and that no possibility of 
a growth of assurance in the progress of the reasoning could be 
entertained. In a sense this assumption was correct (cf. §§ 27, 28), 
because it is true that the gradual verification of scientific truths 
does not render them absolute ; but it led to neglect of all methods 
which appeared to start with premisses initially doubtful and 
hardening into certainties by gradual confirmation. No doubt it 
was not strictly impossible to reason from premisses not known 
to be true, but such reasoning was despised as 'dialectical', and 
no inquiry was made into the frequency of its occurrence in actual 
science. Why, then, waste time upon so unworthy a procedure, 
instead of fixing one's whole attention upon the truly logical 
ideal, the absolute proof of absolute truth ? Let us maintain. 


rather, the old Aristotelian ^ conviction that the truly scientific 
syllogism proceeds from premisses that are true and underivative 
(because ' self-evident ') and inerrant, and demonstrates its con- 
clusion with ineluctable necessity ! Thus the attainment of abso- 
lute truth was unobtrusively smuggled in as the aim of reasoning, 
and became an integral feature of the ideal of 'demonstration '. 

§ II. From the standpoint of the scientific inquirer, however, 
this whole theory of proof is open to the gravest objections. He 
finds first that it is impracticable, being composed throughout of 
counsels of perfection with which he cannot comply, and then 
that, even if he could, they would be perfectly useless, and 
destructive of his aims. 

(1) It strikes him at once that the Fixity of Terms is an obvious 
fiction. He will of course be aware, from his scientific experience, 
that fictions have their uses and are often indispensable ; but he 
will know also that not all fictions are useful, and that the adoption 
of a fiction has in each case to be justified by its usefulness. More- 
over, it is not so much its immediate and prospective use which 
justifies it, though this yields the usual motive for its adoption, 
as the ulterior uses ascertained ex 'post facto by experience. 

He will ask, therefore, for evidence that an absolute fixity of 
terms is the vital necessity for logic it is declared to be. He will 
admit, of course, the familiar arguments for a certain stability of 
meanings which have come down from the days of Plato, but he 
will suggest that a relative fixity of terms is quite sufficient to 
content them. He will point out that in a progressive science 
any absolute fixity in its terms is precluded by the very progress 
of the science. For the terms in use must somehow manage to 
convey the growing knowledge they are employed to ' fix '. The 
term ' gas ', for example, must not be tied down to the meaning 
Van Helmont desired to convey when he invented it ; it must 
incorporate aU that physics has discovered about ' gases ' ever 
since. Similarly, when Darwinism transforms the notion of 
' species ', and the discovery of radio-activity that of ' atom ', 
these developments of meaning must be recognized as perfectly 
proper. To object to these conceptions as modern science uses 
them, on the ground that, because to Plato and Aristotle species 
were eternal and immutable, a ' species ' that changes cannot be 
truly a species, or that because an ' atom ' is etymologically 

1 Post. Anal. i. 2. 71 b 20. 


' indivisible ', it becomes an impossible self-contradiction when it 
is made up out of 'electrons', will seem to him to reveal only 
the fatuous pedantry of an utterly unscientific mind. 

§ 12. (2) If he is acquainted with psychology, he will perceive 
also that the fiction of the fixity of terms is subject to a further 
restriction. It is not only in science as such — for all sciences 
must be conceived as progressive — that the fixity of terms cannot 
be made absolute : a real fixity is strictly inconceivable for and 
in every human mind. For every term that is actually used to 
convey a meaning must be held to form part of a new truth, ^ 
i. e. of a truth that was not previously in being. It is not a question 
of principle whether the truth is supposed to be new only to the 
person to whom it is addressed, or claims to be new to all, i.e. to 
science. For no judgement would be made unless it had some- 
thing new to say.^ Hence every real judgement, as opposed to the 
verbal formulas which are called judgements in the logic-books, 
more or less modifies the meaning of its terms. If it succeeds in 
being a real judgement and a new truth, it establishes a new and 
previously unknown relation between its subject and its predicate. 
' ^ ' is henceforth an ;S-which-can-have-P-predicated-of-it, and 
' P ' a P-which-can-be-predicated-of-/S'. Thus both the psycho- 
logical associations and the logical associates of S and P are 
changed. That logicians should not have noticed so obvious a 
fact can be attributed only to their inveterate habit of not using 
in their illustrations real judgements intended to cope with actual 
problems, but operating with their verbal skeletons, which are 
not being used by any one to convey his meaning, and so do not 
have any actual meaning. 

Clearly, then, no science can interpret the fixity of terms quite 
literally. Or rather, it can only interpret it literally — as a matter 
of the literal integrity of the words that muy convey a meaning. 
But in a scientific inquiry the convention of formal logic must be 
reversed ; the fixity of terms must be understood not to be abso- 
lute, but to be merely ad hoc and sufficient to convey a definite 
meaning, which it is desired to develop. Accordingly it must 
always be assumed that the results of an inquiry are to modify 
its terms, and that it is permissible, and indeed inevitable, to 
develop their meaning, so long as they remain capable of ex- 
pressing and conveying the new truth. We must come, to every 
1 i. e. truth-claim. a Cf. Formal Logic, p. 173. 


inquiry with a willingness to learn and to expand our terms. The 
Fixity of Terms, as it is tacitly presupposed in the traditional logic, 
is a scientific blunder of the gravest Idnd. 

§ 13. (3) To renounce it, however, entails further consequences. 
It appears to undermine the whole notion of formal validity. For 
if we admit in principle that the meaning of terms depends vitally 
on that of the judgement in which they occur, how can we con- 
tinue to rely absolutely on the mere verbal identity of its terms 
to hold together a syllogism ? In any syllogism the middle term, 
M, may have one shade of meaning in relation to P, another in 
relation to 8. It may be quite right to call M Pin one connexion, 
and to call S M in another ; and yet, when the two assertions are 
put together, they may lead to a conclusion which is an error or 
an absurdity. The man who (in his laboratory) would rightly 
declare that ' all salt is soluble in water ' and (at his dinner table) 
as properly hold that ' all Cerebos is salt ', could not combine these 
assertions to draw the conclusion that ' all Cerebos is soluble in 
water ', without finding that the facts confuted his anticipation. 

No doubt, when this had happened, he might explain it, ex 
post facto (if he knew logic), by alleging a hidden 'ambiguity of 
the middle term '. We need not here discuss whether it is fair to 
treat as an inherent ambiguity what is really a juxtaposition of 
shades of meaning which were relative to different purposes and 
right in their original contexts, thus manufacturing a fallacy by 
selecting the premisses : the important thing is that the logician 
should be driven to admit that any middle term may become 
ambiguous in this way when a syllogism is constructed, and that 
this completely stultifies his assumption that the verbal identity 
of the middle guarantees the real identity of the objects to which 
it refers.^ If we call two things, which are and must be different 
if they are to be two, both ' ilf' , we necessarily take the risk that 
the differences are irrelevant for the purpose of our argument. 
We may legitimately assume this, but if we do, our hypothesis 

1 Mr. Alfred Sidgwick has been pointing out for the past twenty years how 
fatal this difficulty is to the traditional notion of formal validity ; nor has any 
logician confuted his argument, or even shown that he apprehended its meaning 
and scope. It would seem, therefore, that the condition of formal logic is so 
precarious that its only chance of survival lies in hushing up aU the vital objec- 
tions to its stereotyped doctrines. But is not the policy of ignoring unanswerable 
objections the sure mark- of a pseudo-science ? 


has to be confirmed in fact ; it is naive to think that the verbal 
identity of the terms is quite enough. If, then, actual identity 
cannot be absolutely guaranteed, if there is always a possibility 
that the same term when put into a syllogism and used in reason- 
ing may develop an ambiguity and become effectively two, it 
is evident that no amount of formal validity will safeguard the 
truth of a conclusion, even when the premisses are in themselves 
severally true. The syllogistic form is convicted of losing truth 
which it started from, and this is the very thing it boasted it could 
never do. Moreover, its coercive ' cogency ' is exploded : whoever 
wishes to deny a ' valid ' conclusion after admitting its premisses, 
has merely to suggest that by putting the premisses together 
a fatal ambiguity has been generated in the middle term. 

§ 14. (4) The assumption that everything has been named 
rightly, and is what it is called, will scarcely commend itself to 
the scientific researcher. He will know from much painful ex- 
perience that language only embodies the knowledge which has 
been acquired up to date, and too often is only a compendium of 
popular errors. Hence in any research which really breaks new 
ground the existing terminology wUl always prove inadequate, 
and new technical terms have usually to be devised in order to 
embody the new knowledge. The reason is obvious. Ex hypothesi 
we are inquiring farther into the subject, because our knowledge 
is felt to be insufficient. Accordingly the probable defects of the 
terminology we are initially forced to use must be borne in mind : 
we may expect it to omit what is unknown, to misdescribe and 
to classify wrongly what is partially known, putting together what 
does not belong together and separating what does, emphasizing 
the unimportant and slurring over the important, and generally 
failing to provide the mind with words that give it a real appre- 
hension of the objects under inquiry. Hence the tacit assumption 
of Aristotehan logic that the terms reasoned with are fully known, 
that adequate notions are already extant, that truth has merely 
to be disentangled by a verbal criticism of existing opinions, and 
has not to be discovered outright, is false ; nor can any argument 
from a verbal identity be taken as final. 

§ 15. (5) But of all the assumptions liirking in the theory of 
proof, the beUef that reasoning can and should start from certainty 
will seem the falsest and most pernicious to the man of science. 
For it means that we are committed to a search for absolutely 


certain premisses as a preliminary to every inquiry, and proscribes 
consciously hypothetical, i. e. truly experimental, reasoning alto- 
gether, or at least condemns it as incapable of leading to certainty. 
This search, however, wiU either be perfunctory and uncritical, 
if it accepts false claims to certainty ; or else vain, if it is con- 
scientious. For every attempt to prove a conclusion absolutely 
demands two absolutely true premisses ; hence the more we try 
to prove, the more we have to prove, and our search grows the 
more endless and futile, the longer it is continued. An immutable 
basis of absolutely certain truths, therefore, for reasoning to start 
from, is nowhere to be found. In no science is it possible to 
start with truths that are absolutely certain. In every science 
the initial ' facts ' are doubtful ; they are alleged, but not yet 
approved. They embody only unsystematic observation and 
prescientific experience of the subject, and so are probably the 
products of inaccurate observation, bad interpretation, false pre- 
conceptions, and popular superstitions. To acquire any consider- 
able scientific value, such material has to be thoroughly revised 
and refined. 

The validity of methods and the certainty of ' principles ' are 
no more assured than the ' facts ', initially. Every science has to 
work out its own appropriate methods experimentally ; even if it 
borrows methods from another, it has to find out how and how 
far they apply to a new subject. Neither does a science acquire 
its principles by divine revelation ; even if they fell from heaven 
ready-made, it would insist on testing the authenticity of the 
revelation. But philosophers have been extremely reluctant to 
admit that the certainty of principles is a gradual growth : for 
over 2,000 years they have been endeavouring to discover some 
way of securing an infallibility to principles which would render 
them independent of the working of the sciences which use them. 
But if their labours have proved anything, it is that no such way 
can be found. 

(a) They have recognized many principles as ' self-evident ', and 
equipped the mind with a variety of ' faculties ', expressly invented 
to enable it to apprehend the ' self-evident ' inerrantly. But they 
have not been able to agree upon a list of self-evident principles,^ 
nor even to find any truth whose claims to self -evidence have not 

' The latest I have noticed occurs in Abercrombie's Inquiries concerning the 
Intellectual Powers (1830) ; it reads very strangely now. 


been denied by competent critics. Nor have they been able to 
define their notion of 'self -evidence' itself; they cannot discriminate 
between the sound ' logical ' self -evidence, which they conceived 
to guarantee truth, audits merely 'psychological' 'mimic', which 
is certainly much commoner, and becomes more intense and 
extensive the more unsound is the mind that ' apprehends ' it.^ 
Hence an unprejudiced observer has no reason to put the ' in- 
tuitions ' of philosophers and the ' faculties ' which apprehend 
them on a higher cognitive level than those of women or even 
lunatics. They all impose themselves psychologically ; but this 
proves nothing as to their logical value, and science has to test 
them just the same. 

(6) The principles which are said to be necessary or logical 
' presuppositions ' all turn out to be hypothetical when they are 
examined. They are needed, no doubt, to solve the problem in 
hand, if the particular way it is formulated is taken for granted. 
But if either the order or the formulation of problems is altered, 
they cease to be either ' necessary ' or ' presuppositions '. For 
example, the 'axiom of parallels', alias 'Euclid's postulate', is 
a necessary presupposition of geometry, if the existence of parallels 
is assumed. But if we prefer it, we can just as well (with Aristotle) 
make it our axiomatic ' presupposition ' that the interior angles 
of a triangle are equal to two right angles, and can then deduce 
the existence of parallels. I. e. Euclid might have deduced what 
he assumed, and assumed what he deduced. If, moreover, we do 
not desire to construct a Euclidean geometry at all, we can deny 
both presuppositions, and proceed from alternative postulates, 
which lead to the various metageometries. The only things, in 
short, which all scientific principles presuppose are the desire to 
construct a science, and the desire to construct it in a particular 
way, which is simplest, or easiest, or most systematic, or most in 
accordance with the reigning prejudices. But these desires are 
the very things which the logician's account of principles always 
omits to mention. 

Agata, the whole of Kant's scheme of a priori presuppositions 
in the theory of knowledge rests upon an arbitrary assumption, 
viz, that mental data are to be conceived as originally discrete 
and are therefore in need of ' synthesis '. But it is just as possible 

1 Controversially the criticism of ' self -evidence ' has been met in the same 
way as that of the ' validity ' of the- syllogism, i. e. by total silence. 


to conceive an analysis of knowledge which starts from the ' pre- 
supposition ' of a continuum or flux, and proceeds to trace out 
the principles by means of which this continuum is broken up into 
a world of apparently distinct things and processes. Nor is it 
possible to say in advance of experience which of such ' presup- 
positions ' is going to be more convenient and more conducive to 
scientific progress. 

(c) It demands a high and rare degree of philosophic insight 
to perceive that very ^many principles are neither certain, necessary, 
nor probable, but simply methodological. Whether we think them 
true or not, we adopt them because of their eminent convenience. 
If they turn out to be false, candour compels us to call them 
methodological fictions ; but they continue in use. Our belief in 
the trustworthiness of memory is a good example. For though 
we often find that our memory has played us tricks, we continue 
to accept as true what we ' distinctly remember '. If no limita- 
tions to the truth-claim of such assumptions are discovered, 
enthusiasts will probably insist on promoting them to the rank 
of indisputable 'axioms', and hail them as absolute truths. But 
their scientific value is not thereby enhanced, and the cautious 
will eschew such exaggerations. For there is no real reason why 
the scientific rank of principles should not rest openly and entirely 
on their actual services, and why a ' methodological assumption ' 
should not rank higher than a ' self-evident truth '. For the latter 
is at most a fact of our mental organization which nothing has so 
far turned up in nature to set at naught, and as such a fact it 
is itself a thing to marvel at rather than an explanation of other 
things. The scientific spirit will always hesitate to acquiesce 
in the limits which are set to inquiry by sheer brute facts, 
and if the absolute truth of certain principles were merely an 
ultimate fact which could neither be impugned nor explained, 
this would go far to make these principles appear unintelligible 
and would be a constant challenge to dispense with them, or 
somehow to evade them. A principle, then, should always be pre- 
pared to state the reasons a science had for adopting it : only 
the reasons will appear from the actual working of the science. 
They will involve a reference forward to the facts it copes with, 
not hack to higher principles or to any claim that proves itself by 
its self-assertion. 

{d) Indisputable principles, then, are not consonant with the 


spirit of inquiry : it will gladly let them go, if it can attain truth 
and advance knowledge in other ways. It will not shrink even 
from repudiating the ideal of absolutely true and demonstrated 
truth, if it can be realized only by sacrificing the progressiveness 
of science ; nor will it be dismayed to find that this ideal is un- 
realizable. For when the inquirer reflects upon his own procedure, 
he finds that it points to a radically different ideal, and that the 
existence of absolute truths would only be a hindrance and a 
restriction upon his endeavour (cf. § 28 (4)). 


§ 16. Before, however, we attempt to delineate the logical ideal 
of the discoverer, it wiU be necessary to encounter a serious 
objection which protests on principle against such an under- 
taking, and urges that discovery by its very nature must elude 
logical treatment. It is contended, in the supposed interests of 
logic, that discovery is a process so inherently and incurably 
psychological that no logical account can ever be given of it. 
Discoveries are windfalls, and come as ' happy thoughts ' to the 
gifted geniuses that make them, in a manner neither they nor any 
one else can account for or describe : they are therefore logically 
fortuitous, and to set forth the ideal of proof by which the truth 
of discoveries is tested is aU that need, or can, be the concern of 

Certainly the great majority of deductive logicians have taken 
up some such attitude towards the process of discovery. Aristotle 
contents himself with a bare mention of 'sagacity' (dy^ii/ota), 
which is defined as the instantaneous apprehension of the suitable 
middle term for constructing a demonstrative syllogism.^ When 
one recoUects the weary centuries of painful effort and continual 
failure which elapsed while the elite of the human race were seek- 
ing for clues to, e.g., the mysteries of disease and of physical 
happenings, before they hit upon the notions of microbes and the 
mechanical theory, this naive underestimate of the most difficult 
and essential of scientific procedures sounds like a mockery. Yet 
the whole Aristotelian school pass over the problem as lightly. 
They aU seem to believe that while it is merely low cunning to 
make a discovery, it is a real proof of mental capacity to arrange 

1 Anal. Post. i. 34. 


it ' in logical order ' after it has been made, and to show how far 
short it falls of the logical ideal. Even the inductive logicians 
may be said to have participated in this attitude. For they were 
not more anxious to propound methods of discovery than to con- 
tend that their conclusions were just as rigidly proved and just 
as formally valid as those of syllogisms. They did not see that 
they were thereby accepting the demonstrative ideal of proof and 
giving away their own ; what they should have shown was that 
this ideal was utterly nugatory, and that their own methods 
could never conduct to 'proof, but only to something vastly 

§ 17. In spite, however, of this wonderful consensus of logicians 
the above argument depends essentially on a confusion. It has 
confused two things which are perfectly distinct, the actual pro- 
cedure of the individual discoverer, and the generalized description 
of the attitude of mind and procedures of discoverers, as they 
appear to subsequent logical reflection. Both present problems 
to the logician, but the problems are not the same. To anticipate 
the process of actual discovery may well be left to the prophets ; 
it wiU transcend the powers of logic and indeed of any science, 
unless it be individual psychology, if it exists, or history, if it be 
a science.-^ It may readily be admitted that anecdotes about the 
bath which fomented in the mind of Archimedes the idea of 
specific gravity, and the streets of Syracuse through which he ran 
and cried " Heureha!\ or about the apple-tree which shed its fruit 
upon Newton's receptive head, and stimulated his brain to frame 
the law of universal gravitation, are beneath the dignity of science. 
Their narration belongs to history, which can go as deeply into 
their details as the scale of the history and the purpose of the 
historian demand ; but the particular circumstances of a particu- 
lar discovery may well be treated as ' accidental ', and be smoothed 
out of the scientific record. But why does it follow that no common 
features can be traced in these histories of discovery, and that 
there cannot be compiled out of a sufficient number of them a 
generalized account of what appears to be the 'essential', i.e. 

1 It may be suggested that there is a similar confusion on this question : 
when history is called a science, it is often forgotten that its data are essentially 
such that they can only occur once, while the material of the other sciences is 
such that cases of ' the same ' may always be found in it. But neither need it 
be denied on this account that history can, and should, be written in a scientific 


really relevant, procedure of discoverers, which may serve as a 
guide and model to subsequent discoverers ? Why should this 
be more difficult than to describe the method of lion-hunting 
from the records of lion hunts, or the treatment of a disease from 
the history of a number of cases ? Indeed, it would seem that 
the thing has been done. Any discoverer may reflect upon his 
own discoveries, and, like Poincare,^ formulate the method he has 
found successful. And if discoverers are not all perfectly unique in 
their methods, important uniformities will probably be found by 
comparing the methods of a number of discoverers. 

Why again should it be assumed that the general account thus 
extracted from a retrospective study of discoveries must at once 
coincide with the logical ' ideal of proof ' ? Why should it even 
point to this, or be related to it otherwise than by contrast ? 
Surely the possibility should be discussed that there are two pro- 
cedures for logic to consider, of which the one describes how 
human knowers, starting from what they believe themselves to 
know, set about it to fortify and extend their knowledge, while 
the other moves on a superhuman plane and describes, with 
Platonic fervour, how ideal demonstration, descending from abso- 
lutely certain principles, moulds into a closed and inexpugnable 
system all the truths which are deducible from these and alone 
intelligible. The two accounts must be distinct, for they have 
different starting-points and work upon different material. Nor 
need they ever have any point of contact. For it may well be that 
human knowing never attains to an absolute certainty and a 
completed system, while deductive proof never condescends to 
notice mundane fact. 

This was certainly so in the first rapturous vision of a priori 
' proof ' which solaced Plato amid .the elusiveness and opacity 
of the flow of happenings. The deduction of the intelligible order 
of the ideal ' Forms ' from their supreme ground and (sole !) 
premiss in the ' Idea of the Good ' stopped short of facts and 
events at the laws of minimum generality,^ and recognized in 
all the happenings of the sensible world an ineradicable taint of 
'not-being' which rendered their stability impossible and. their 
prediction vain. Aristotle similarly distinguished between the 
procedure which started from^the notiora nobis, the apparent facts 

1 Science et Methode, ch. iii, L'lnvention mathematique. 

2 Republic, 511 c. 


of perception, and that which began with the notiora naturae, 
the self-evident principles which could form the ultimate pre- 
misses of demonstrations. But that these two methods must 
somehow coincide was assumed rather than proved, in a way that 
should have discredited the doctrine. For Aristotle also was not 
able to explain how 'science', being of ' universals ', could apply 
to particulars, which nevertheless he would not with Plato stig- 
matize as ' unreal ', while the ascent from the seasible fact to the 
'universal', which was called the 'induction' of the 'principle', 
is hardly validated by the naive allegation of a mental faculty of 
' intuitive reason ' (i/oCs) endowed with the special function of 
apprehending principles in their particular exemplifications. It is 
high time, therefore, that this whole assumption that a necessary 
congruity exists between the logic of discovery and of proof 
should be subjected to a thorough examination. 


§ 18. Such an examination will speedily establish that the 
mental attitude of the discoverer is, and must be, quite different 
from that of the prover. 

In the first place, the discoverer is not in possession of the 
knowledge he covets. It is for him a desire, an aspiration, an aim 
to be attained. Proof, on the other hand, presupposes knowledge. 
Not only must the demonstrator know the assured truths he uses 
as premisses, not only must he have a supply of absolutely certain 
truths if his proof is not to remain hypothetical (§ 9), but he must 
already know the conclusion he exhibits. He cannot be ignorant, 
like the discoverer, of the result he is to arrive at. He is not 
engaged in discovering new truth, he is only showing how it follows 
from old truths. His retrospective contemplation has merely to 
retrace the history of its attainment, or rather to rearrange it in 
the more pleasing order which he calls ' logical '. This order is 
not that in which it was discovered, nor even that in which it 
could he discovered. For there are such things as necessary errors, 
indispensable artifices, and indefensible fictions, and the way to 
a truth often lies through them. Thus from time immemorial 
mathematicians have represented the continuous by the discrete, 
quantities by numbers, knowing full well what fictions their prac- 
tice involved. Again, mathematical calculation of shapes, areas. 


and motions necessarily presupposes the fictions that bodies have 
the ideal and regular forms to which they ' approximate ', and 
that their ' mass ' is concentrated at their (ideal) ' centre of 
gravity'. It is more than doubtful whether the notion of an 
' evolution ' of species could ever have been reached, except by 
starting from the false notion of the fixity of species, or whether 
the true nature of the mobility and development of meanings 
could have been understood except by correcting the Platonic 
theory of immutable and eternal 'universals'. To 'proof all 
these incidents and accidents of the history of discovery are 
irrelevant ; all that has to be done is to show that the new truth 
can be deduced from the old, and that a ' logical connexion ' 
exists between them. 

§ 19. Not only is this much easier to do than to make the 
discovery, but it is very much easier to follow. Any one can see 
the connexion once the data have been arranged in logical order. 
Hence the assumption that this order somehow represents the 
actual process in a perfected form is natural enough. But it leads 
to contempt for the procedure of discovery. The discovery is 
made to look so easy that it becomes impossible to appreciate its 
difficulty and its merit, and it seems astonishing that no one made 
it long before. For did not the ' facts ' all but force it upon the 
dullest mind ? Who could have failed to see that fossils must be 
(at least) as old as the rocks in which they are embedded, that 
obviously worked flints, similarly, attest the antiquity of man, 
that northern Europe is scratched all over with the marks of a 
gigantic glaciation ? It is forgotten that these ' facts ' were not 
there until there came a mind prepared to notice them. Hence 
none of these discoveries were in fact easy to make, and they 
were preceded by a long struggle of the human mind with false pre- 
conceptions and the illusory ' facts ' which they had engendered. 

Nor are discoveries easy to get recognized when they have been 
made. The persecutions to which discoverers of new truth are 
subjected always and everywhere (more or less) form as discredit- 
able a chapter of human history as the persecution of moral 
reformers. Those may count themselves fortunate who are simply 
ignored. Hence everything has to be ' discovered ' over and over 
again. Nothing new ever enters the world, just as nothing old 
ever passes away, without infinite pains and after a protracted 
struggle. One curious result of this inertia which deserves to 


rank among the great fundamental ' laws ' of nature, is that when 
a discovery has finally won tardy recognition, it is usually found 
to have been anticipated, often with cogent reasons and in great 
detail. Darwinism, e.g., may be traced back through the ages 
to Heraclitus and Anaximander. Thus it is true that there is 
' nothing new under the sun ' ; but only because when a new truth 
first appears it does n6t prevail : when after a hundred repetitions 
it is at length recognized, it is no longer strictly new. Accord- 
ingly, the ' discovery ' of a truth is only the beginning of its career, 
the first step by wbich it makes its way in the world, and still 
very distant from the crowning ' proof ' with which logic com- 
placently adorns it ex post facto, when it has ' arrived '. The 
slowness and difficulty, then, with which the human race makes 
discoveries, and its blindness to the most obvious facts, if it 
happens to be unprepared or unwilling to see them, should sufl&ce 
to show that there is something gravely wrong about the logician's 
account of discovery. 

§ 20. Quite apart from the difficulties which the psychological 
constitution and social organization of man put in the way of 
innovators, the making of a new truth which formulates a new 
' fact ' is also intrinsically anxious work. It is not merely that 
its maker can have no assurance that his enterprise will succeed, 
that he cannot start with a feeling of certainty from established 
truths, and be wafted by an irresistible wave of logical necessity 
to the safe haven of a predestined conclusion. He must start with 
a consciousness of ignorance and an all-pervading feeling of doubt 
about every step of his inquiry. This doubt he should not, more- 
over, endeavour to disregard or to suppress ; for it is the best 
guarantee that no way to the truth will be passed by in his ex- 
plorations. Doubt, therefore, should be recognized on principle, 
and equipped with a technique of testing and experimentation : 
the inquirer should be proud that he has to feel his way in fear 
and trembling to the very end. 

Yet his condition will not contravene Aristotle's dictum that 
aU inquiry and research proceed from knowledge previously ac- 
quired.^ In a sense he will still start from what he knows, or 
thinks he knows. For it is psychologically impossible to do any- 
thing else. The knowledge he beUeves himself to have cannot 
but affect all his ideas, and he cannot get away from it. His 

1 Anal. Post. i. 1. 

1892 s 


boldest speculations, his most hazardous hypotheses, will have 
some relation, however subtle and recondite, to the knowledge at 
his disposal. It will influence all his thoughts and guide his 
guesses. As he cannot divest himself of his knowledge and the 
ideas it has rendered familiar to him, he has to accept its limita- 
tions. His only problem is to use it as effectively as possible. 

But it is clear that he cannot regard his knowledge with the 
same sort and amount of confidence as the believer in demon- 
strative proof. He must conceive himself as an explorer, and his 
attitude must be tentative throughout. Knowing that his pre- 
misses are questionable and only doubtfully true, he will recognize 
that his inferences are only probable, and stand in need of con- 
firmation. As a rule he can, no doubt, find accepted truths to 
argue from ; but these being relative to the existing state of 
knowledge are known to be subject to correction. Even where 
he has started with premisses of the most superior kind, which 
are generally deemed absolutely self-evident and certain in them- 
selves, he will still be conscious of a doubt whether they will prove 
to be the right premisses for his purpose. If they are not, their 
truth is irrelevant and will lead him astray. In no case, therefore, 
can he escape the responsibility of choosing the right ones from his 
limited stock of known truths and familiar ideas, as he contem- 
plates the infinite expanse of possible discovery. In whatever 
direction he moves, the unknown lies before him ; he may come 
upon surprises or be stopped by unsuspected obstacles. In short, 
there is nothing of the irresistible about his progress ; it has not 
the faintest resemblance to the majestic march from inevitable 
premisses to a predestined conclusion which so fascinates us in the 
theory of proof. 

§ 2L But, it may be said, all this is not enough. The differ- 
ences in the attitudes assumed by the reasoner in discovery and 
in proof may be only psychological. They do not prove any real 
logical difference between them ; the logician's account may still 
be what the discoverer would acknowledge to have been his best 
course, if he could have seen it. It has, therefore, to be shown 
that the differences in question arise out of, and develop into, 
differences which are indisputably logical. 

Thus, the ignorance which the inquirer feels is doubtless a 
psychological fact, but the lack of knowledge which engenders it 
is surely a logical fact of some importance. In general, the feelings 


of doubt, expectancy, and perplexity which beset the mind of the 
inquirer, and contrast so distinctly with the feelings of confidence, 
knowledge, certainty, and necessity which accompany a ' proof ', 
originate in a logical fact. Every inquiry starts from a problem, 
of which the solution is not yet known. An inquiry is, as the 
name implies, a question, put, not to nature at large and at random, 
but to some part of it, which is taken to be relevant and to contain 
a possible answer to the inquirer's question. Now this dependence 
of inquiry upon problems springs no doubt from the psychological 
fact that until there is something put before it the mind cannot 
get to work upon it ; but it is surely a fact of the utmost logical 
significance, and it is astounding that the logical tradition should 
have slurred it over so completely. 

Especially as in the very beginnings of logic some of the Greeks 
distinctly caught a glimpse of it. For, having started their re- 
flection upon reasoning from a desire to regulate debate and to 
argue a case at law, they naturally noticed that there are two sides 
(at least) to every question. Accordingly, Protagoras appears to 
have taught systematically that there were always two reasonings 
{\6yoi) to be considered,^ Socrates treated scientific inquiry as an 
extension of the art of cross-examination, and Plato conceived 
the search for ideal truth as a ' dialectical ' process, as a sort of 
dialogue of the soul with itself. Now this whole doctrine is equally 
good as logic and as psychology. It is profoundly true of the 
inquirer's mind ; he must be keenly alive, not only to the evidence 
for, but also to that against his working theory. But it is also 
true of the logical nature of inquiry that it is a process of deter- 
mining which of the alleged ' facts ' and of the theories to interpret 
them are real and true. Inquiry logically ' presupposes ' a conflict 
between the data, and a dispute about them. 

Unfortunately, however, the conception of scientific research 
as an inquiry lapses from the logical consciousness in consequence 
of Aristotle's work. His discovery of the forms and formtdas of 
demonstration overshadowed it, and restored the reign of dogma 
which is so congenial to the authorities everywhere.^ The true 
conception of inquiry does not revive again until our days, when 
Mr. Alfred Sidgwick and Professor John Dewey have endeavoured, 
not with the success they deserved, to reopen the eyes of logicians 
to the facts of the scientific situation. 

1 Diogenes Laertius, ix. 51. ^ Qf . g 3 



§ 22. To conceive an inquiry as a question then is, we see, 
implicitly to conceive it as having a plurality of answers, all of 
which have to be examined. All these answers are initially hypo- 
theses, and a choice has to be made between them. This renders 
the recognition of alternatives a paramount necessity for a logic 
of discovery, which can no longer dismiss them with a jejune 
chapter on ' disjunctive propositions '. Their existence is no 
longer to be treated as an annojdng complication which delays 
the progress of science, but must be taken to inhere in the logical 
nature of problems, and to be essential to their proper elucidation. 

Logic, therefore, should regard it as its duty to inquire (1) how 
the inquirer is furnished with an adequate supply of theories for 
analysing and testing the apparent facts of his subject, (2) what 
methods are used to sift hypotheses and to select the more valuable, 
and (3) if it can, to add some hints as to how theories and methods 
oiight to be handled. 

(1) To the first question there is no exhaustive answer. No 
logic can guarantee that all the possible theories which concern 
the facts under inquiry will be available. They may not yet have 
occurred to any human mind, and may never do so. This alone 
ought to be considered a fatal objection to all methods which pre- 
suppose exhaustiveness, and are pressed by the logician upon the 
man of science. It ought to dispose of methods which demand 
that all the facts should be assembled before theorizing is begun, 
or that all the alternatives should be stated and the true one 
extracted by the successive elimination of the false ones, or that 
define a ' cause ' as reciprocating with its ' effect ', and assume 
that the true cause has been discovered when no other has been 
thought of, or that if a theory works we may take it that it alone 
will do so and is (absolutely) true. All these notions demand an 
impossible exhaustion of the alternatives, and try to convert 
a (psychological) failure to think of any more into a logical proof 
that there are no more. And they all regard the plurality of 
alternatives as a hindrance to be got rid of, and not as a safeguard 
and a help to proper inquiry. 

Hence the real difficulty was not perceived, viz. that there is 
no formal guarantee that the supply of hypotheses for use upon 
the facts in any inquiry will be adequate. It may well be that 
for lack of a good working theory to go upon, all the theorizing on 
a subject proves vain and sterile. In the beginnings of all the 


sciences this sort of condition always exists and often lasts for 
centuries, and it is a main reason why some sciences make little 
progress even now. 

Nevertheless, the difficulty is not in practice as fatal as it looks 
on paper. It is probable that the inquirer will in fact usually have 
a supply of alternatives to start from. For (a) he will naturally 
select a subject in which there are disputed points. And (&), what 
is even more important, human minds are naturally various : 
they put, therefore, different interpretations on the same facts and 
value them differently. Some are attracted by novelty, others 
by orthodoxy ; some incline to one type of theory and method of 
inquiry, others to another. Hence in any inquiry upon which a 
number of minds are actively engaged, there will always be differ- 
ences of opinion, and these will be most marked in the rapidly 
growing regions of every progressive science, which, like the 
growing cells in the trunk of a tree, are always on the outskirts. 
There will always be a conservative and a liberal party, even in 
science, and the clash between their views will always provide 
alternative solutions of problems, the comparative merits of which 
the inquirer can examine. But the sciences owe their progress 
largely to the man who raises new questions, and should provide 
for him in their organization. 

§ 23. It should be noted further that if this feature in discovery 
were properly recognized and emphasized, it would have important 
educational and ethical effects. At present the study of logic can 
hardly be said to liberalize and broaden the mind or to improve 
the temper. So long as its chief interest is in a theory of absolute 
proof and complete certainty, it will tend to breed pedants and 
bigots. The effect would be very different if an adequate logic of 
discovery had imbued the mind with an ever-present thought that 
every subject may and must be considered from several points of 
view, and that an inquirer should beware of letting his predilec- 
tions and preconceptions blind him to possible alternatives. The 
logical attitude of inquiry, when fuUy understood, demands a 
tolerant and open mind, and excludes the narrow-mindedness and 
dogmatism which the theory of proof has fostered by its pretence 
of showing that there was but one truth and one inevitable way 
of reaching it. Moreover, the necessity of continually choosing 
between a number of alternatives should cultivate a judicial 
temper, conducing to fair-mindedness and consideration towards 


the views of others. For a mind which is in the habit of choosing 
between alternatives must be impressed by the facts that there is 
something to be said for the views it does not accept, that the view 
accepted is often not so very much superior to those rejected, and 
that new facts and new knowledge may always revive views which 
were supposed to be defunct. 

Of course our natural dogmatism will take alarm at the flabby 
toleration of ideas which this attitude seems to imply. It wiU be 
objected that no one who can see the good and truth in beliefs he 
does not accept, can really be strenuous in upholding those he 
does. The full answer to this bigots' argument can only be 
appreciated when the attitude of progressive science is fully under- 
stood (cf. § 33), but in general it may be pointed out that a power 
of first weighing alternatives, choosing the best and acting upon 
it strenuously, is precisely what life demands of us at every step. 
It should not, therefore, be impossible to compass it in science. 

§ 24, (2) To the second question of § 22, viz. what are the 
methods used by the inquirer in sifting the alternative hypotheses 
in the field, and picking out the most valuable, the answer is 
comparatively easy. It is substantially the answer given by the 
pragmatist analysis of knowledge. That theory is preferred, and 
tends to be accepted as true, which for the time being works best. 
The formula looks simple, but needs more thinking out than its 
critics usually bestow upon it. 

(a) It implies, of course, that all the alternatives (before the 
mind) ' work ' more or less. They must be (or appear) scientifi- 
cally plausible, and profEer a more or less satisfactory explanation 
of some or all of the admitted ' facts '. This is why agencies like 
the Devil, who could once be extensively alleged to explain 
anything unusual, have dropped out of the purview of science. 

(6) ' Working ' must be conceived somewhat widely. Its 
primary appeal is to the accepted principles and recognized 
interests of the science ; practically to ' work ' means to conduce 
to the development of the science on the recognized lines, and the 
proper judges of what ' working ' counts are the experts who culti- 
vate each science. 

(c) But there will often be complications due to certain dis- 
putable workings, of which the relevance is not yet estabhshed, 
and about these there wiU legitimately be difierences of opinion. 
These should not be suppressed, but candidly argued out. 


(d) Moreover, every new departure will be pro tanto disputable, 
because it will conflict more or less with the vested interests of the 
esta,blished doctrines. One great factor in the ' working ' of a new 
truth is the extent to which it upsets, or is thought to upset, the 
old, and demands a reconstruction of beliefs, a correction of au- 
thorities, a revision of text-books, a renewal of plant, &c. Hence 
what works best in the abstract may not do so under the actual 
conditions. It may ' pay ' a professor better to be ' orthodox ' 
than to be an innovator, and he is usually quite alive to this, 
though it does not render him a good investment scientifically 
for the institution that appoints him. If then we looked at this 
side of the matter alone, the verdict would always go against the 
novelty. For very few new truths are fortunate enough to find 
the field free and unoccupied. Usually they have to spring up 
in a soil densely overgrown with a rank growth of prejudices, 
dogmas, and superstitions, to which the world is accustomed and 
even devoted. So they have to fight for an opening in which they 
can take root and grow up. 

(e) The ' working ', however, need not amount to a claim to 
represent ' the ' truth. A discoverer may know that by reason of 
his deliberate use of fictions, his results have forfeited their claims 
to be strictly true ; yet they may ' work ' better than anything 
else in sight. The typical example here is, of course, mathematics. 
When physical objects are treated mathematically, they are identi- 
fied by a fiction with the objects of pure mathematics, and it is 
only on this assumption that their behaviour can be calculated, 
They are, of course, vastly more than mathematical objects, but 
their surplus meaning becomes irrelevant wherever objects admit 
of mathematical treatment. And apart from the restriction of the 
claim to truth necessitated by the use of fictions, it should, of 
course, be recognized also that there are sound logical reasons for 
denying that truths which rest on their ' workings ' can ever be 
'absolute' (§26 «./.). Their truth is pragmatic, and is optimi 
iuris only if pragmatism establishes that no other and no better 
truth exists. 

(/) More specifically a very important form of working is the 
prediction of events. Knowledge of the future is an almost uni- 
versal object of huinan desire, which men have sought to compass 
by fair means and foul, and the calculation of the future is the 
avowed aim of many scientific inquiries. Hence there is nothing 


more potent to dispose the mind to accept a theory than the 
success of the predictions it has led to. Yet here again this form 
of ' working ' differs generically from ' proof '. It is clear that 
prediction is not strictly proof. For predictions may be made 
with considerable accuracy by the aid of hypotheses which turn 
out to be false or impossible. Thus eclipses and other celestial 
events were predicted for centuries by means of the Ptolemaic 
astronomy, and they cannot be predicted even now with absolute 
accuracy. Indeed, physically speaking, absolute accuracy is un- 
thinkable. No instrument and no organ of observation can be 
conceived to measure to more than a finite degree of accuracy, 
and the best value for any physical ' fact ' will always be the 
mean of a number of good observations after all the accessible 
sources of error have been allowed for. 

At no point, then, does the test of ' working ' conduct to the 
notion that absolute truth is discoverable. But the right inference 
may be, not that the test is worthless, but that absolute truth is 
a chimera. 

§ 25. (3) It cannot then be seriously disputed either that 
alternative hypotheses are always (more or less consciously) pre- 
sent to the mind of the inquirer, or that the working of a theory 
is in fact used, in all the sciences, to test its claim to be true. But 
does it follow that logic should bow to scientific fact and recognize 
these practices ? Should it set itself to devise a technique for 
regulating the formation of hypotheses and the establishment of 
their truth by their working ? It is here that the traditional logic 
demurs, and disputes begin. Nevertheless, strong reasons may be 
advanced for answering both questions in the affirmative. 

(a) An abundance of hypotheses is a guarantee of great logical 
value that all the important facts will be properly observed. For 
it is evident that every theory will produce a certain bias in the 
observer. It will direct his attention upon those facts and those 
features which are relevant to his theory, and, more particularly, 
which support it. This is usually an advantage, because it helps 
him to select what is relevant to his inquiry from the chaos of 
events ; but it will pari passu blind him to whatever does not 
seem to be related to, and to fit into, his theory. He will, therefore, 
fail to observe and to appreciate what will seem to him to have 
little or no scientific interest. And in so thinking he may be quite 


The old theory of ' induction ' thought to get over this diffi- 
culty by saying, ' Well, of course, all the facts must be observed '. 
It did not observe the fact that in practice this is impossible, and 
is never done. Nothing is observed but what the knowledge and 
preconceptions of the time make visible to the scientific eye. Of 
what is visible at any time only a small part seems worthy of the 
scientific microscope. Complete observation, therefore, of literally 
all the facts is scientifically impracticable. 

As a logical ideal also this notion of all-inclusiveness is absurd. 
If no inquiry could ever begin until all the facts had been assem- 
bled, how could anything be discovered until omniscience had been 
achieved, i. e. when there was nothing left to discover ? For how 
are we to know that our assembly of ' facts ' reaUy is complete ? 
And if literally all the facts have to be used as data in any inquiry, 
shall we not speedily find that every fact ramifies into infinity, 
and drags in the totality of reality, and a knowledge of all things 
present, past, and future ? This ' logical ideal ', therefore, renders 
inquiry impossible. 

In point of fact the data of any inquiry are always a selection. 
They are such of the recognized facts as are thought to be relevant, 
i. e. to be truly ' facts ' for the purpose in hand. But being a 
selection they involve us in the risk that we may have selected 
wrongly, and omitted what is important while admitting what 
is not. From this risk there is no escape. For we cannot effect 
a compromise by including merely so much of the facts as we can 
lay hold of. Not only does this yield no guarantee that every- 
thing that is needed has been included, but it may be a positive 
hindrance to try to include too much. For if our data grow into 
an unwieldy mass, they will not seem susceptible of any order or 
principle, and even the most penetrating inquirer will lose his way. 

It is better, therefore, to give up altogether the idea of securing 
formal validity by postulating an all-inclusive exhaustiveness. 
The obvious alternative is to operate simultaneously with a 
plurality of theories, each of which means a certain ordering of the 
' facts ' relatively to what seems a relevant and promising point 
of view. Each will involve a selection and induce a bias ; but 
with any luck they will neutralize each other's bias, and so will 
increase the probability that no really relevant fact has escaped 
notice. This wUl not satisfy the logical ' ideal ', but in practice it 
means a good deal, and is enough for scientific progress. Of course 


it must be understood that the hypotheses employed are in a 
general way relevant to the problems and the condition of the 
sciences, and not random guesses. This proviso will cut down 
their exuberance even more than the limitations of the human 
imagination, which seems to be psychologically incapable of really 
departing very far from the suggestions of experience. 

§ 26. When logic has recognized the use and value of 'working' 
as the test of truth, it must, however, make it clear to itself and 
to others both what precisely this test is, and what it can, and 
cannot, accomplish. 

In the first place, it must be made clear that it is not a logical 
implication of the test that ' whatever works is true ', and the 
reasons for disputing this dictum must be set forth. The fact is 
that we all have a strong psychological tendency to believe in the 
truth of what is found to work, without much criticism of the 
sort and extent of the ' working '. But the logician should care- 
fully investigate the various sorts of working that occur, and take 
special note of those which either do not themselves lay claim to 
full truth, or do not (ordinarily) have their claim conceded. 

For example, ' fictions ' are not supposed to be strictly true ; 
but they may ' work ' and be ' as good as true ', or ' pragmatically 
true', or 'sufficiently true for the purpose in hand'. They work, 
in fact, within limits ; but these limits are known, and so they are 
not confused with full-fledged truths, to the applicability of which 
there are no known limits. 

The case of ' methodological assumptions ' is more difficult and 
instructive, and is usually misconceived. In their case the existence 
of hmits to their ' working ' is either not known or not relevant, 
because they owe their adoption to their use and convenience in 
analysing and organizing a subject of inquiry. Thus the principle 
of Causation, the assumption that every event has a cause which 
determines it fully, is properly to be regarded as methodological. 
It declares merely that if we desire to calculate the course of 
events, it is scientifically convenient to treat events as if they had 
' causes', from which their occurrence could be predicted, whether 
or not they have them in fact. This assumption may be purely 
methodological ; it need not, and should not, be turned into a 
dogmatic, metaphysical denial that there may be indeterminate 
happenings. There may even be good reasons to suspect their 
occurrence, and indeterminism may be ultimately true, and yet 


scientific method may rightly ignore this possibility, because it 
would render the calculation of events impossible.^ Even an 
indeterminist then is fully entitled to reason as if events were 
determined, and to search for ' causes', for the purely methodo- 
logical reason that this enables him to calculate events, and 
that after aU they may be calculable. So long as they work 
for scientific purposes it is not, in the case of methodological 
principles, necessary to raise the question of their metaphysical 

The ' lie ' again is a curious case of ' working '. A lie works, as 
a rule, only so long as it passes for truth, and is believed to have 
the meaning and value its author claims for it ; when it is ' found 
out ', it ceases to work. Hence it can both work and fail to work 
at the same time, according as it is, or is not, known to be a ' lie ', 
Clearly nothing can be made of the lie logically, until this double 
aspect inherent in its nature is recognized ; if the logician refuses 
to distinguish between the persons concerned in its making, 
acceptance, and rejection, it remains (like ' error ' to Plato) an 
insoluble ' contradiction '. It is, however, a mere prejudice to 
refuse to make these distinctions. 

The ' working ' of hjrpotheses is by no means simple and un- 
ambiguous. It admits of infinite gradations in amount and kind, 
and the 'truth' which is implicated in 'working' is nothing 
essentially but an index of its logical value, and may vary in 
quantity between values which cannot be 'psychologically dis- 
criminated from zero and from 100 % or 1 ( = ' absolute ' cer- 
tainty). It is crude, therefore, to confront a scientific hypothesis 
with the rigid alternative 'either (absolutely) true, or (utterly) 
false ' ; its ' truth ' really rests on its greater value, as compared 
with its competitors. Its value, then, is a question of more or 
less. The more extensively, conveniently, and economically a 
hypothesis works, the more value has it, i.e. the more likely 
is it to be called ' true ', and to be supposed true absolutely : the 
more continuously and successfully the test of working has been 
applied to a doctrine, the greater the confidence and affection 
with which it is regarded, and the greater the presumption that 
it will continue to approve itself as true. 

But, as we anticipated in § 24 [s.f-), it is vain to expect to 
establish any absolute truth by this method. It provides truth 
1 Or more diflScult, if the indetermination is conceived as limited. 


with ever-growing probability, but never with absolute certainty. 
For, however well a theory works, the thought that one may here- 
after be found to work better can never logically be excluded. 
Even if every one alive were perfectly satisfied, and no one could 
imagine any improvement in an accepted truth — and these con- 
ditions are by no means often reaUzed — such psychological con- 
siderations would not disprove the logical possibility that the 
best known was not the best absolutely, and logic would continue 
to distinguish between a truth that was absolute, and one liable 
to one biUionth chance of error. The latter chance could be 
disregarded for all practical and scientific purposes, and would 
not have the slightest psychological effect on the confidence with 
which the truth was regarded ; but logically it would still be 
there. Science, therefore, has to resign itself to the conclusion 
that its method cannot conceivably attain to absolute truth, and 
to make the best of it. 

§ 27. Curiously enough this conclusion is fully confirmed by 
Formal Logic. It prides itself on pointing out that there is a formal 
fallacy involved in establishing truth by ' working'. The essence 
of this method is to argue that if a theory is found to work (after 
the proper precautions have been taken), it is true. If e. g. the 
events anticipated by a theory occur, and nothing occurs that 
could not be anticipated, it grows more and more probable until 
it convinces every one. But ought it logically to have done this ? 
The logician declares emphatically, it ought not. For the argument 
suffers from an incurable flaw, which has been recorded as a 
' fallacy ' for over 2,000 years. It is a flagrant ' affirmation of 
the consequent ' ; symbolically, it argues that if A is, B is, hut 
B is, .-. A is. Now this is not 'cogent' or 'valid'. That A is 
can be proved only from the premiss ' only if A is, B is ', i. e. if 
A is the only theory which will account for the observed conse- 
quences. But this the fallacious method did not assert, and 
indeed could not assert. For that the best known is the best 
absolutely never can be proved (cf. § 26) ; and even if they hap- 
pened to be identical, and we had somehow stumbled upon an 
absolute truth, we should never know that this was so. 

§ 28. To the logician this fact only seems to prove the supe- 
riority of his conception of ' proof '. He infers, consistently enough, 
that no inductive reasonmg from 'facts', no verification of hypo- 
theses by events, can possibly amount to proof. What he seeks 


to impress upon his pupils is that verification is not proof and can 
never lead to it. 

He considers himself entitled to look down upon science 
accordingly, its evidence, its methods, and its reasonings, and to 
contrast them with the absoluteness of his own ideal of demon- 
stration. He upholds its validity in spite of all the failures of the 
sciences to realize it. As a rule he seems willing to grant that 
some mathematical proofs amount to logical demonstration ; ^ 
but if pressed he would confess that scientific truth was only 
probable, whereas certain metaphysical truths, such as the law of 
contradiction, alone were absolutely certain. 

The scientist, of course, is not in a position to deny that the 
nature of his truth is such as has been stated : but he should not 
attempt to do so. He should content himself with scientific truth, 
and contend that at its best it is good enough for any one. And 
he can carry the war into Africa by a vigorous counter-attack. 

(1) He can deny — for the reasons stated in § 13 — that the 
logician's formal 'proof is as cogent and formally valid as the 
latter supposes, and show that after a conclusion has been ' proved ' 
true, it has stUl to come true before it can be trusted to be ' true '. 

(2) He can point out that there is a serious lacuna in the 
logician's plea for his notion of ' proof ', The logician has assumed 
that the only alternative to his belief in absolutely certain pre- 
misses is complete scepticism, arguing that it must be possible to 
start from certainty, because otherwise no knowledge would be 
possible at aU. He then urged ' but there clearly is knowledge — 
the sciences attest it ', and consistently inferred that absolutely 
certain premisses must be obtainable. The more or less obvious 
failure of his attempts to explain their genesis by ' self -evidence ', 
'intuition', 'necessities of thought', &c. (§15), could not deter 
him from clinging to his belief, because the principles themselves 
seemed to him to be inevitable and to admit of no alternative. 

In fact, however, there is a via media between scepticism and 
absolutism, and science safely pursues it, though logic has over- 

1 This we saw (§ 4) is really a mistake : mathematical proofs are really hypo- 
thetical, and deduced from the initial postulates and definitions. They hold of 
the ideal objects of mathematics, but that they can be advantageously applied 
to reaUty is merely an empirical fact, and it is not inconceivable that the world 
should grow more recalcitrant to mathematical treatment, though actually it 
has grown less so. 


looked it. It is not necessary to start with absolutely certain 
premisses, because it is possible to adopt premisses hypothetically, 
to take them as true for the argument's sake and for the purposes 
of the inquiry, to experiment with them, and to revise them in 
the light of the results of such experiments. Thus their value 
may be judged and established, after their adoption, by the ex- 
perimental results, and they may come to depend logically upon 
these, and not upon the processes (analogies, suggestions, guesses, 
fancies, &c.) which led to their adoption. If they show themselves 
capable of advancing the science and solving its problems, con- 
fidence in their 'truth' increases progressively, and their initial 
assumption is justified. They cease to be ' hypotheses ' and 
become ' facts ', and even ' principles' beyond dispute. If they 
fail to 'work', they may be discarded in favour of others which 
are tried in their turn and similarly tested. Hence it is not true 
that what is uncertain to begin with must always remain so, nor 
is it hard to understand that hypothesis, willingness to believe, 
and belief may be the psychological forerunners of logical proof, 
which, nevertheless, rests not upon them, but upon the solid value 
of the results subsequently reached by their means. The certainty 
of scientific premisses then admits of indefinite growth, which at 
some point or other will overpower even the most obstinately 
sceptical temper. This point naturally lies at a greater distance 
from the starting-point for some minds than for others, but when 
it is reached, and when the last doubts and scruples have been 
overcome, the triumphant truth will feel absolutely certain, and 
to all intents and purposes will function as such. But the ' practical 
certainty' thus achieved will still be distinguishable in thought 
from the absolute certainty which logical theory mistakenly de- 
manded. And logicians, from Plato downwards,^ will be convicted 
of having failed to allow for the possibility that the certainty of 
premisses and principles may be a fruit of continuous experience 
and experiment, and to perceive that this is the method the 
sciences have actually employed. In short, necessary (needed) 

1 In Republic vi his whole argument for the existence of metaphysical truth, 
culminating in a supreme ' Idea of the Good ', depends on the assumption that 
the ' hypotheses ' of the sciences, being insecure originally, remain so until they 
are deduced from a (self -proving) ' unhypothetical principle '. This assumes, of 
course, that they cannot be confirmed empirically by the results of their working, 
and exhibits the lacuna of logic in a typical way. 


'truths' need not be regarded as ''a priori \ if it is seen how 
hypotheses are consolidated by experience. 

(3) The scientist can deny that the ideal case, contemplated 
with so much satisfaction by the logician, can ever occur in actual 
knowing. He can point out that if the logical apparatus of demon- 
stration is to work, it must be supplied with premisses that are ab- 
solutely true. But whence is the logician to obtain them ? The 
' self-evident ' principles and ' necessary ' axioms, for which so much 
has been claimed, have been shown (§ 15) to be highly disputable, 
and are themselves in need of support and verification. The 
truths which the sciences supply abundantly are all products of 
the method to which he takes exception. There are no scientific 
truths which have not to be, and have not been, verified, and if 
verification is logically vicious, and cannot amount to proof, they 
are not absolutely true. But if the premisses of a demonstration 
are not absolutely true, neither can its conclusion be. What then 
becomes first of the value, and ultimately of the ' validity ', of 
an ideal of proof which can never be exemplified by actual reason- 
ing, and serves only to condemn it ? 

(4) The ideal of absolute certainty may be repudiated alto- 
gether, even as an ideal, for sound scientific reasons. It may be 
shown that if it were possible it would be scientifically undesirable. 
For it would mean the creation of absolute bars to scientific pro- 
gress. If truths existed which were absolutely certain, this would 
mean that nothing more could be learnt about them, and nothing 
could be done to strengthen their position. No experience, no 
inquiry, no experiment, could any longer affect them, and add to 
or detract from their value. They could not, therefore, form 
avenues to further knowledge. They would simply be stops 
which would arrest scientific inquiry. But how could such things 
form an ideal of scientific knowledge ? How could it be in the 
spirit, and to the interest, of science to recognize them ? They 
would merely be for science brute facts which it was forbidden to 
investigate. And must not science on principle hold out for the 
right to inquire into everything, to test every belief, however true 
it may seem ? How, then, can it be the ideal of science to adopt 
an ideal which would stop inquiry ? 

Nor will it suffice in reply to point to the fact that the sciences 
continually assume the truth of the premisses they argue from. 
For though this is often a convenient assumption for the purpose 


in hand, it is one thing to assume the truth of premisses for the 
purposes of an inquiry, and quite another to assume it absolutely. 
For in the former case our assumption may be, and should be, 
accompanied by a consciousness that upon another and fitting 
occasion the premisses now assumed to be true may themselves 
be inquired into : to regard them, therefore, as absolute is to 
misinterpret their logical condition. 

There are no good reasons, then, why the sciences should 
surrender to the arbitrary demands of the traditional logic, and 
sacrifice their practices which have been sanctified by the suc- 
cesses of 2,000 years to theories which sprang from a misunder- 
standing of scientific procedure, and have since lost all contact 
with it. The original mistake was pardonable, but it ought not 
to be regarded as an insult to logic to require it to understand the 
procedure by which the sciences actually progress. 

§ 29. The scientist then should not be terrified by the charge 
that his ' truths ' are ' only probable '. For it is better to be 
satisfied with probabilities than to demand impossibilities and 
starve. Moreover, a high degree of probability means ' practical 
certainty ', i. e. confidence enough to move to action. Such 
certainty so convinces and satisfies the mind that it cannot feel 
more certain about anything ; the logical gap between it and 
absolute certainty is psychologically negligible. We are sacrificing, 
therefore, nothing but a superstition, nothing that has any value 
for us, by renouncing the demand for absolute truth and demon- 
strative ' proof ', and we gain in return a charter of liberty. For 
to admit the essential progressiveness of scientific truth and its 
indefinite capacity for improvement means unlimited freedom to 
research into truths which are infinitely perfectible, because they 
are never ' absolute '. The ideal of the infinite perfectibility of 
truth, and the infinite progressiveness of science, is more than an 
adequate substitute for the 'logical ideal' which is abandoned. 
For not only is it an ideal which works, but it really embodies 
a nobler aspiration than that which represented science as ' resting ' 
in absolute perfection on fixed ' foundations ' of ' eternal ' truth. 
The sentiment which inspires this group of metaphors is given 
away by the word ' rest '. A science that desires to rest is one 
that is unwilling to move and unable to advance. Fixed ' founda- 
tions ' are needed only for standing firm and standing still, and 
it turns out that what is strictly meant by ' eternal ' is not that 


truths last for ever, but that they are not related to ' time ' at all, 
and so have really no application to ' events '.^ 

On the other hand, a science which sincerely desires to progress 
needs fixed foundations as little as fixed ideas, and firm ground as 
little as assTirances to ' rest ' on. It needs only a starting-point, 
or jumping-oflf place, whence it can plunge into the unharvested 
seas of the unknown. Now the essence of a starting-point is to 
be a place you want to get away from, and its excellence lies in 
being such as to prompt you to leave it as easily and eagerly as 
possible. If, therefore, scientific ' principles ' {apxat) are really to 
be starting-points, they need not, and must not, be so comfortable 
and so deceptively similar to ' absolute ' truths as to tempt the 
scientific spirit to repose. They should be tentative assumptions 
which are gladly abandoned in the hope of reaching something 
better, stepping-stones to farther and higher things, which are 
valued for their Consequences, and logically dependent on the con- 
clusions to which they formed the premisses. The logic of science, 
therefore, has no reason to postulate stability or solidity for its 
initial principles : the most indispensable of them are only prin- 
ciples of method, and even of the tried and tested principles it 
arrives at the ' validity ' ( = strength) demanded is merely that 
they should be able to float the accumulated wealth of knowledge 
down the stream of time. 


§ 30. It is clear, then, that the time has come when Science 
should break decisively with the logical tradition, and proclaim 
a logic of its own which has always been implicit in its procedure. 
It must definitely declare that what it needs is not a logic which 
describes only the static relations of an unchanging system of 
knowledge, but one which is open to perceive motion, and willing 
to appreciate the dynamic process of a knowledge that never 
ceases to grow, and is never really stereotyped into a system. 
To show that such a logic is not inconceivable will be the 
endeavour of the concluding sections of this essay. 

We have already had occasion to note many of the most 
important features of this logic. We have seen that logical, i. e. 
critical, reflection upon discovery must start from, and be guided 

1 Formal Logic, ch. xxi, § 7. 

1892 T 


by, the conception of a scientific problem with which the process 
of knowing experiments (§ 21). This problem has, of coiorse, to be 
attacked with the existing resources of a science, i. e. with the 
knowledge it possesses up to date. These resources form the 
scientific capital which is necessarily risked in research if it is to 
yield interest. It comprises (a) approved principles, (6) known 
facts, and (c) established meanings of words. About each of them 
a little more may advantageously be said. 

(a) We have seen (§ 15) that the principles of any science could 
not rightly be conceived as inscrutable, ultimate, absolute certain- 
ties of divine descent, and acknowledging no human ancestry. 
We saw that they could be understood only as hypotheses 
which reflection upon a problem had somehow suggested to an 
ingenious mind, which had been provisionally adopted in order 
to explore and organize a subject of inquiry, and had finally been 
verified and confirmed by their success (§ 15 (c), § 24). 

The principles thus accepted by a science are often regarded 
as descriptive of fact when they are merely methodological and 
convenient,^ but this is a point of secondary importance. And 
even the most amply verified principles never quite lose their 
hypothetical character. So long as they are used, their meaning, 
scope, and truth are not absolutely fixed. They can be extended, 
restricted, and modified by the working of the principles. 

§ 31. (b) It is really obvious to any critical refiection that when 
a science appeals to ' facts ', it is really appealing to the facts as 
known, or supposed to be known. It cannot from the first presume 
its knowledge to be absolute, and, pace some of our ' neo-realists ', 
ignore the question whether the alleged facts are facts at aU, and 
so pretend to start from ' the facts as they really are '. Such 
uncritical temerity would only conduct to insoluble pseudo- 
problems like that with which King Charles plagued the nascent 
Royal Society, as to why the weight of a bucket full of water 
was not increased when a fish was added to it. If, however, it is 
acknowledged that the ' facts ' involved in a scientific inquiry are 
always relative to a definite state and date in the history of a 
science, several important coroUaries follow. 

(1) Being dependent on the condition of the science, the facts 

1 e. g. the ' accidental ' distribution of variations in biology, for which see 
Humanism, pp. 146-50, and the postulates of causality and determinism in 
science generally {Formal Logic, ch. xx, § 6, and Stvdies in Humanism, oh. xviii, § 4). 


of a science will not all be ' facts '. That is, not all that is relevant 
to the interest of the science wiU actually be within its cognizance, 
not all that turns out to be fact, and is antedated when it has been 
discovered, is as yet recognized as fact. It will be this fact, more- 
over, which constitutes the science a field for inquiry and renders 
it progressive. 

(2) Though the ' facts ' of the moment fail to include all the 
facts, they often manage to include too much. The ' facts ' are 
not all fact. They include unknown, and often large, amounts of 
prejudice, illusion, error, superstition, and other remnants of the 
lurid past and stormy youth of every science. It is useless to 
repine at this inevitable consequence of past history, and childish 
to try to purge it away by defining as science only what ex hypo- 
thesi is free from such contaminations. To restrict the logical 
interest to science qiia science, which is by definition infallible, 
is to forbid any logical treatment of the sciences we actually 
possess. But the logician should siurely be encouraged to study 
the processes by which the sciences correct their initial errors and 
consolidate their acquisitions. 

(3) It foUows on both these groimds that the ' facts ' of which 
a science takes cognizance wiU be subject to change. As the science 
grows, ' new ' facts will come into it, and old facts will be dis- 
carded as erroneous. In particular, facts which at first were only 
inferred on theoretic grounds will be actually observed, even as 
' Neptune ' was the fruit of a theory about the perturbations of 
Uranus. Hence the antithesis of ' theory ' and ' fact ' must not 
be taken as absolute : they must be expected to play into each 
other's hands. It is the business of theories to forecast ' facts ', 
and of facts to form points of departure for theories, which again, 
when verified by the new facts to which they have successfully 
led, will extend the borders of knowledge. Incidentally, however, 
this interaction between fact and theory often renders it difficult 
to decide whether a scientific doctrine is better regarded as a 
' theory ' or as a ' fact ', and leads to differences of opinion. But 
it can hardly be wrong to advise the scientific mind to practise 
hospitality towards new facts, while it is no less fitting to show 
generosity towards old servants that have done their work and 
can now advantageously be retired. It is ungrateful to abuse them 
as ' errors ', and to despise them with the lofty contempt of the 
higher knowledge to which they have conducted. And in both 

T 2 


cases the truly scientific attitude may be attained if an element of 
"fanaticism is not imported into the conception of truth by attri- 
buting to it an absoluteness which no human truth in fact possesses. 
(4) The same need for tolerance is emphasized by a further 
corollary of the conception of fact which has been advocated. 
It seems at first a paradox, but on reflection appears to be evident, 
that the ' facts ' will not only look different but may really he 
different from different points of view and for different purposes. 
Once we permit ourselves to consider this possibility we shall 
easily perceive that there often are conflicts between ' facts ', such 
that they cannot coexist for an abstract logic, while, nevertheless, 
each of the conflicting facts may be intelligible relatively to its 
own presuppositions and true under its own conditions, so that 
the ' contradiction ' between them is generated merely because the 
logical statement has abstracted from the special circumstances of 
the case. 

This situation is, of course, recognized very familiarly and 
universally in the case of value-judgements. We are all willing to 
admit that one man's meat may be another man's poison, that 
it is vain to dispute about tastes, and that the same mode of living 
does not suit all constitutions and all circumstances. We recognize, 
too, that profound differences of opinion and attitude exist, and 
always have existed, among men. The temperamental differences 
which make e. g. one man indolent another enterprising, one man 
daring another prudent, one a conservative another a radical, one 
an optimist another a pessimist, are so deeply rooted in human 
nature as to be, humanly speaking, ineradicable. And if so, must 
it not be conceded that situations occur which will inevitably, 
consistently, and rightly, be judged differently by these different 
persons ? 

Again, it should be noted that these differences in valuation 
are not merely subjective : they spring from objective differences 
in human nature, and are as objective as any other facts about it. 
For example, that certain persons dislike pork (because they 
cannot digest it), and hate cats (because their presence makes 
them feel iU), rests as much on a physiological fact of their con- 
stitution as that others suffer from ' hay fever '. Similarly, it 
is quite plausible to contend that ' every little boy and girl that 
is born alive, is born a little liberal or a conservative ', and cer- 
tainly the normal growth of conservatism as the individual mind 


ages is proof enough that changes of behef depend on psycho- 
logical law, and are correlated with the hardening of tissue which 
is a general symptom of senescence. Again, is it possible to 
imagine a situation so bad or so good that it cannot be inter- 
preted either optimistically or pessimistically ? In most cases 
either interpretation is quite easy, and the choice between them 
is effected by sheer temperamental bias. If, then, we succeed in 
doing what the natural man will always find difficult, and regard 
such differences of opinion in a scientific and non-partisan way, 
must we not admit that hoth the conflicting standpoints are in- 
evitable and justifiable ? Neither can be pronounced wrong in 
general and per se, though in regard to a particular problem or 
occasion either may be. Let us conclude, then, that it may reaUy 
be a ' fact ' that the ' facts ' justify one interpretation and attitude 
to one mind and another to another. 

This argument is reinforced by the further consideration that 
even the most objective statements of fact involve value-judge- 
ments in their ultimate analysis. For they express, often explicitly 
and always implicitly, the choices and valuations by which a 
variety of pretenders to reality have been exainined and sifted, 
and the most valuable have been declared ' truly real '. We have 
seen that in a scientific inquiry the ' facts ' must always be taken 
as alleged facts, discovered up to date ; hence a science must 
always be ready to defend the ' facts ' it recognizes, when they 
are challenged, and to show wherein they excel conflicting alle- 
gations. The accepted ' facts ' of a science, therefore, are always 
allegations which are thought to possess greater value than any 
known alternative ; hence no sharp or absolute distinction be- 
tween judgements of fact and judgements of value can be main- 
tained. It becomes, moreover, quite possible that incompatible 
allegations of fact may in the actual state of a science be so nearly 
balanced that there is no convincing reason to prefer one to 
another, or at any rate none that could prevail against any ordinary 
temperamental bias. Consequently, in such cases the bias will 
condition the visibility of the ' fact ' ; it will be bathed in a 
' subjective ' atmosphere, and the ' eye of faith ' will be necessary 
to perceive it. No doubt such situations are inconvenient, and 
repellent to the scientific spirit ; but they do not occur only in 
the misty regions of religion and philosophy, and scientific alterna- 
tives like 'chance' or 'design', 'miracle' or 'law', 'mechanism' 


or ' vitalism ', determinism or indeterminism are essentially of this 
order. There is no reason, therefore, why logic should not recog- 
nize them and acknowledge that the scientific ' facts ' may be 
ambiguous, in the sense that further experience and experiments 
are needed to determine their character. As a rule, to judge by 
the past, further inquiry will resolve the ambiguity ; but it may 
well be an illusion to assume that it must do so, and in some of 
the most important cases the decision will certainly be long in 

Thus the student of animal behaviotir will probably long be 
left with a choice between minimizing the displays of animal 
intelligence and assimilating them to the human, while it will 
probably always be possible to put a pessimistic or an optimistic 
interpretation upon the facts of life as a whole. 

A scientific logic therefore should radically disabuse the mind 
of any excessive trust in ' facts '. It is a superstition that ' facts ' 
are plain, straightforward, and easy to discover ; they are often 
subtle and recondite and relative to circumstances, changing their 
aspect to suit their scientific environment like any chameleon. 

§ 32. (c) In considering the use of words in research, one cannot 
of course overlook the obvious fact that the employment of words 
is primarily determined by their established meanings, and that 
these greatly limit our freedom to use them as we please. Words 
naturally and inevitably suggest their established uses by their 
mere sounds, and should always be used with a proper respect for 
their past history and present meaning. To be sensitive to this 
appeal is the mark of the educated scholar ; but it does not require 
the investigator to exhaust his energies in vain attempts to stereo- 
type absolutely the current meanings, and so to deprive words 
of their essential function. For their essential function is after 
all to be instruments for the conveying of actual meaning, and 
actual meanings are always more or less new (cf. § 12). It occurs 
to a particular person in a particular situation to express and 
convey a meaning which has never in its full concreteness occurred 
before. If the novelty about this situation is appreciable and 
important, it may well be that the old words will not fuUy succeed 
in conveying the new meaning ; and yet we shall always en- 
deavour to use them, and select from the accumulated wealth of 
language the words which will sufiice for our purpose. For the 
alternative is worse ; we cannot always be coining new [^ words 


for every new meaning we may desire to convey ; they would not 
be understood or remembered, and even if they were, a science 
that employed nothing but technical terms, and was moreover 
compelled continually to change them, because it would not use 
them to convey new meanings, would speedily degenerate into an 
abstruse game, and could make no progress. How impracticable 
such a poHcy would be may be gauged by the grave inconvenience 
which even now systematists cause by so frequently changing the 
scientific names of plants and animals. It is indispensable, there- 
fore, that words should retain a certain measure of plasticity, in 
virtue of which they can be transferred from old situations to new 
and be used to convey new meanings. Nor is there usually any 
difficulty about thus imposing new duties on the old terms; 
under the particular circumstances of the situation even wide 
departures from the established meanings may remain intelligible, 
and so the progress of science is not impeded. 

The traditional logic, however, cannot treat the matter so 
lightly. For the plasticity of words may always engender a 
conflict between the old meaning and the new, between the 
scientific use of terms and the traditional conventions about their 
use. And this can always be represented as a defiance of the 
'laws of thought'. For if the meaning of '^' may be altered 
by the growth of knowledge, it will no longer be true that every- 
thing once called 'J.' is truly A, nor that what was once incom- 
patible with A will continue to be so for all time. Hence it is 
no longer necessarily true that ' ^ is ^ ', and that A cannot both 
be and not be B. It may be both in different senses, and in what 
sense 'A' and '£' should be taken may be precisely the point 
at issue. Thus verbal contradiction ceases to be a clear proof of 
error ; it may be only a much-needed warning that our terms 
have been developing new meanings. Hence, the ' laws ' of 
Identity and Contradiction lose their last claims to be regarded 
as statements of fact, and have to be conceived as ideal postulates 
of just so much stability of meaning as is requisite for effective 
understanding.^ They can be applied to reahty only hypotheti- 
cally, i. e. experimentally, to discover whether in a given situa- 
tion the natural growth in the meaning of the terms may rightly 
be treated as irrelevant, and does not vitiate the conclusion 
which the reasoning forecasts. Now this problem can never be 
1 Cf . § 8 and Formal Logic, ch. x. 


settled a priori by reasoning, but only by subsequent experience. 
Reasoning may forecast a result which experience fails to confirm ; 
when we discover that comets' taUs are not attracted by the sun 
but repelled, we do not declare the facts ' contradictory ', but 
modify our notion of ' gravitation ', and conceive it as inferior 
to ' light pressure ' in its effects upon particles of a certain minute- 

It follows that no merely logical scrutiny of the terms of an 
argument can ever settle a scientific question. If a ' contradiction ' 
is real, it means either a difference of opinion between those who 
make the incompatible assertions, or, in the case of a real ' self- 
contradiction ', the uttering of ' nonsense ' and a failure to pro- 
pound a meaning at aU. But even the most glaring ' contradictions ' 
may only be apparent, i. e. verbal : when we inquire into their 
actual meaning we may find that they refer to a context in which 
its terms are perfectly compatible. Thus the existence of a ' round 
square' may be predicated of London, and a 'triangle's' angles 
may equal or may exceed two right angles, according as it belongs 
to EucUd's geometry or to Riemann's. 

§ 33. The problem of discovery, therefore, is never one of which 
the solution can be guaranteed in advance. The resources of 
a science are never sufficient to assure us of a prosperous issue of 
the research, though, rightly understood, they yield important 
safeguards. A recognition of the instrumental value of words as 
ancillary to meaning, and of the limitations under which they 
labour, will guard the inquirer against the terrible verbalism to 
which logic has been enslaved. A critical attitude towards allega- 
tions about ■ facts ' will enable him to minimize the dangers of 
error, deception, and bigotry. A conception of ' principles ' as 
working hypotheses will discourage a servile and superstitious 
reverence for them, and justify the fullest freedom to experiment 
with whatever ideas hold out hopes of verification and of scien- 
tific progress. Together these three considerations will pretty tho- 
roughly emancipate inquiry from the shackles of any mechanical 
scheme of 'proof. Indeed, proof in the old formal sense will 
have become a chimera. It will no longer be possible to cherish 
the behef in a self-sufficing, self-satisfied form of absolute proof, of 
which the pure logician imagined himself the possessor and retailer. 
Scientific proof, on the other hand, will be neither absolute nor 
formal. It will not be absolute, because it will always be relative 


to the actual condition of a science ; it will not be formal, because 
it will never be absolute. It wiU only be the best known inter- 
pretation, and will always imply alternatives, to some of which 
it may wrongly have been preferred, while to others it may be 
destined to succumb (§§ 26, 27). It will be ' valid ' so long as 
it is the strongest ; but to it, as to the priest of Diana Nemorensis, 
as to Uranus and Cronus, will come the day when it is invalidated 
and superseded by a stronger and better, descended, it may well 
be, from itself. Scientific proof then will always be an evaluation 
of evidence, a making the most of the available resources of a 
science, a question of the comparative values of rival interpretations. 

It stands to reason that such an evaluation cannot operate 
merely with the criteria of formal logic. Indeed, of the processes 
known to the traditional logic, only those which cannot be repre- 
sented as ' formally valid ' will be exemplified in scientific knowing. 
It wiU not be possible to find any genuine cases of absolute cer- 
tainty or unconditional proof ; but analogies, probabilities, 
hypotheses, alternatives, even fallacies and fictions, will abound, 
and will somehow have to be discounted. Clearly the evaluation 
of such things will be a delicate affair ; it cannot be accomplished 
by reciting Barbara Celarent and crudely applying a few simple 
mechanical formulas. It wiU demand the energetic co-operation 
of the whole intelligence, and indeed of the whole personality, 
and cannot scorn the aid of psychological factors. For it is plain 
that the evaluation of a complicated scientific situation will 
require both expert knowledge of scientific detail and philosophic 
grasp of general principles and connexions ; it will need also 
' tact ', ' judgement ', an ' eye from experience ', and a host of 
similar qualities that elude precise verbal formulation. It will 
no longer be practicable to flatter mediocrity and dullness, and 
to impede discovery, by proclaiming methods that dispense with 
imagination, ingenuity, originaHty, boldness, enterprise, and vainly 
endeavour to put genius for discovery on a par with mindless 
pedantry in applying stereotyped and sterile rules. 

§ 34. But just because a logic that recognizes the actual 
process of discovery does not presume to dictate formal methods 
to the discoverer, and leaves him a very free hand, it does not 
relieve him of any of the responsibility for, conducting his re- 
searches to a prosperous issue. As there is no longer any pretence 
that any logical machinery can be devised to guarantee success, 


success and failure become his personal achievements. If he fails, 
he can no longer plead that it is not his fault, seeing that he has 
kept every letter of the law and broken no logical rule. This may- 
be precisely why he failed. Perhaps he should have taken risks. 
He may have gathered such enormous masses of fact that he could 
no longer see through them, nor select the few that were relevant 
to his problem. He may have been so sensible of the need for 
caution that he dared not speculate or move. He may have de- 
voted himself to unimportant problems or missed the important 
sides of important problems, or have wandered away into barren 
wastes of dialectics, or have got bogged in a mire of verbalism, or 
have pursued elusive phantoms of unverifiable speculations. For 
there are clearly many ways of failing. Only in whatever way he 
fails, his personal failure is 'pro tanto a failure of science to progress. 
Every science has somehow to get hold of a clue to guide it through 
the labjrrinth of fact, and this clue has to lead it right, though it 
need not ' follow necessarily ' from previous knowledge. 

Nevertheless, if, and in so far as, a researcher succeeds in 
making a discovery, some of his personal credit is reflected upon his 
methods ex post facto. Their success does not, of course, establish 
their formal ' validity' ; but it stops the mouth of those who argued 
that what is ' invalid ' must be worthless. Methods that succeed 
must have value, a greater thing than ' validity', however far and 
however boldly they departed from the canons of formal proof. 
The success has shown that in this case the inquirer was right to 
select the facts he fixed upon as significant, and to neglect the rest 
as irrelevant, to connect them as he did by the ' laws ' he applied to 
them, to theorize about them as he did, to perceive the analogies, 
to weigh the chances, as he did, to speculate and to run the risks 
he did. But only in this case. In the very next case, which he 
takes to be ' essentially the same ' as the last, and as nearly 
analogous as is humanly possible, he may find that the differences 
(which always exist between cases) are relevant, and that his 
methods and assumptions have to be modified to cope with it 
successfully. But he should not be discouraged. For the ultimate 
ground of the whole cognitive procedure by which we analyse the 
flow of events is empirical. It is only an empirical fact that know- 
ledge is possible, i. e. that the course of events is such that human 
minds can analyse it at all, that is, can pick out and construct 
cases of ' the same ', of which the course can be predicted by means 


of the (verbally) stable formulas we call ' the laws of nature '. 
For logic at any rate these laws are neither supernatural behests 
nor metaphysical entities : they are forms for classifying happen- 
ings, in which the blanks have to be filled in with the variable values 
of the particular happenings. What the right values are, and even 
what is the right formula to apply, will always depend on the 
particular case which forms the actual problem. It is only the 
empirical fact that the differences between problems may so often 
be treated as irrelevant which generates the illusion that problems 
may be solved in advance by general formulas : in reality every 
problem in its full concreteness is unique, and we are never abso- 
lutely sure that it will submit to the rule we apply to it. Hence 
it is solved only when we come to it and find it amenable to our 
methods ; in principle it eludes logical prediction, because it can 
be known as a ' case ' of the successful ' law ' only after the ex- 
periment has confirmed the forecast. To the inquirer, therefore, 
no result can seem certain untU it has occurred ; it is only ex 
'post facto that the logician can describe it as an indubitable case 
of some law from which it follows of necessity. But in so doing 
he has changed it, and repudiated the duty of describing actual 
knowing. All he is doing is to rearrange a piece of knowledge, 
acquired without his aid by means he condemns as illicit, in the 
order he is pleased to call ' logical '. This order has a certain 
aesthetic value, but it is emphatically not the order of discovery, 
and throws no light on the process of acquiring knowledge. 

§ 36. What function then can be assigned to the logician's 
reflection on the workings of science ? In view of his failure to 
substantiate his claim to have provided a model for inquiry in his 
scheme of ' proof ', it might seem that he was either useless or 
pernicious. Useless, if he merely devotes himself to constructing 
' ideals of proof ' which he admits to have no relation to the 
actual problems of science ; pernicious, if he is prompted by these 
ideals to make demands with which no science can comply, and 
to dehver judgements which would paralyse the science that 
attempted to carry them into execution. Fortunately, he cannot 
enforce them, and the sciences actually go on their way, ignoring 
such ' logic '. The proper inference from his impotence is that he 
would do well to take up a position which is more useful and more 
influential, if less pretentious. 

Let the logician then give up the pretence of dictating to the 


sciences and of judging the worth of scientific truth by rigid forms 
of absolute proof ; let him abandon the vain pursuit of ' validity '. 
Nay, more, let him renounce the claim to determine the scientific 
value of an argument by a mere inspection of its logical character. 
Let him confess that what alone he can criticize is the incon- 
gruities in its verbal expression, and that its real value lies beyond 
his ken. If he will concede all this, his reward will be that he has 
vindicated for logic an important right of more real value than 
the claims he has abandoned. For he will have obtained the right 
of summoning the sciences to state their results in intelligible and 
consistent terms, and to confront them with a problem when they 
do not. Just because he does not presume to condemn them, 
and no longer ventures to declare that incompatible and verbally 
' contradictory ' results are necessarily wrong and worthless, but 
only urges that they are not intelligible as they stand, and need to 
be reworded or inquired into farther, he gains the right of raising 
'problems, and stimulates the sciences to proceed to solve them. 

It should be noted, moreover, that the problems thus raised are 
general, not special, i. e. are properly logical. The problem about 
' contradictory ' results is one about meaning, for contradictory 
assertions cancel each other's (apparent) meaning. This enables 
the logician to keep the sciences engaged upon the logical problem 
of solving the discrepancies between their results, so long as the 
sciences do not form one complete and congruous system, i. e. 

Similarly the denial that truth is absolute is a general truth 
that affects aU the sciences. It should stimulate them all, for 
it means that no statement is so perfect that it cannot be bettered 
and that no limits can be set to the progress of science. 

Other topics which are ' logical ', because they concern the 
general significance of scientific procedure and not the solution of 
particular problems, are the nature and importance of selecting 
' facts ' and the ' laws ' they are taken to exemphfy, the experi- 
mental attitude and the framing of hypotheses, the evaluation of 
probabilities and alternatives, the estimation of relevance and of 
verifications and of the amounts of the latter which are requisite 
and the sorts of it which are relevant. On all these points logic 
has hitherto had little or nothing to say, mainly because they did 
not lend themselves to formal treatment. Lastly, there are two 
extremely important subjects, which are so vital to the logic of dis- 


covery that a brief discussion of them may fitly conclude this essay. 
We may call them the problem of Novelty and the problem of Risk. 

§ 36. In Logic we are not concerned with the metaphysics of 
Novelty, i. e. with the problem of whether there ever enter the 
world things that are really and truly unforeseen and unpredictable, 
that pop into it from nowhere, and if so, whether and how we can 
understand such things. This problem is deep and difficult, and 
so, until recently, philosophers have fought shy of it, and used to 
settle it off-hand by a flat denial that such things could be in 
a ' rational ' universe. But now that M. Bergson has given us a 
radically new metaphysic, and that we are beginning to perceive 
that the principles used to dispose of the matter, viz. causality 
and the conservation of energy, are essentially methodological, the 
question has become an open one. 

Logic, however, has no need to probe it ; it can treat it more 
simply. For its purposes it can, and must, treat novelty as a real 
logical fact. It is a psychological fact, and logic must note it, 
that every moment of our life has for us a certain flavour of new- 
ness ; it is also a fact that every real judgement that is ever made 
has a certain relation to novelty.^ Its maker believes, either that 
it embodies a new truth, or that though known to him it is new 
to his hearers. If he did not believe this he would have no motive 
to make it. It would be stale repetition, devoid of interest or value 
alike to him and to others, whom he would merely bore by telling 
them what they, too, knew already. 

So far, then, the logical nature of novelty seems simple. It 
gives rise to problems, however, when we consider the relation 
of the new truth to the old. It is clear, in the first place, that the 
new truth must affect the old. Even where we are willing to 
minimize its novelty, and to call it merely an ' extension ' of what 
we already knew, it must modify it and change its value. For in 
the fight of the new developments the old truth means more : it 
has relations in an enlarged field of knowledge. Moreover, the 
new truth is often not merely an extension but also a correction, 
and the effect of the correction may sometimes be revolutionary. 
It may even seem to upset the old beliefs altogether, though 

I The ' novelty ' which is claimed for the conclusion of a syllogism is only 
one case of this : in the traditional interpretation it is hopelessly at variance 
with the demand that it shaU also foUow from its premisses of necessity. Cf. 
Formal Logic, ch. xvi, §§ 8-10. 


human ingenuity is far too fertile in building bridges (often only- 
verbal) from the old to the new to allow this impression to be 
permanent. Still in all these cases there is more or less discrepancy 
between the new and the old. 

The logician, however, should insist that this fact should not 
be blinked. He should recognize the discrepancy, and emphasize 
its significance, just because for other purposes it is usually con- 
venient to ignore it. For it is not only the source of real ambiguity 
in the facts of science, and of the important differences of opinion 
among men and of their obstinate persistence, but the justification 
of the pohcy of open-mindedness and toleration which he regards 
as necessary to scientific progress. Inasmuch as of every discre- 
pancy between the old truth and the new it will be possible to 
take two views, and either to cling to the old or to put one's trust 
in the new, there will always be a party of conservation and a party 
of innovation, or otherwise a conservative and a liberal bias, in 
science as in politics. It is, moreover, futile to discuss, in the 
abstract, which of them is right : for it would clearly be fatal to 
go all lengths with either. Science could make no progress, either 
if every novelty were at once condemned and suppressed because 
of its failure to conform with the accepted doctrine, or if every- 
thing new were hailed as true regardless of its concordance with 
the old truth, so that the course of science became a series of 
radical revolutions that had no consistent direction. In concrete 
cases of course both sides are sometimes right, though historically 
the stronger bias men have shown has been the conservative. 
What usually happens is that the new truth is first denounced as 
an immoral invention which is subversive of all intelligible order 
and cosmic rationality ; it is then quietly assimilated and not 
infrequently converted in the end into the strongest support of the 
beUefs it was alleged to subvert. But it would be a real gain if 
logic, by viewing this natural feature of knowing in its generality, 
could induce men of science to take it more calmly. If it were 
generally recognized that every claim to new truth, however great 
the advantages it promises, necessarily entaUs certain incon- 
veniences, because the old behefs and notions have to be modified 
and readjusted, and this may involve too great an effort to be 
worth while, or an effort too great for certain minds, it would be 
seen that there are two sides to every question, and that both 
may be in a way legitimate. If, in addition, we recognize that 


the parties concerned usually have a bias which may render them 
dangerously bHnd to the case of the other side, and that both 
should be admonished to discount their bias duly, we shall have 
done not a little to secure fair-minded ^ consideration, reasonable 
discussion, and intelligent choice between the alternatives. And 
aU this surely conduces to scientific progress. 

It is clear, then, that the problem of relating the new to the 
old always exists, and has a vital influence on the fortunes of every 
science. But it is not capable of any formal or abstract solution 
a priori. Which is to be preferred is a matter which must be left 
to the expert who is cognizant of the circumstances of the case : 
logic can help only by broadening his mind, and putting him on 
his guard against his own personal bias, which might otherwise 
unconsciously determine his decision. 

§ 37. To admit that scientific inquiries concern problems, and 
that to every problem (at least) two solutions may be propounded, 
between which a choice has to be made, is to admit that knowledge 
miist take risks in order to progress. For there is always the risk 
of choosing the wrong solution of a problem, i.e. the one which 
works less weU, just as there are always risks of choosing a bad 
problem and of selecting the wrong facts and the wrong theories 
to explain them withal. Nevertheless, we ought not to resent this 
fact. For the taking of risks is inevitable : we cannot escape it 
either by refusing to inquire or by refusing to decide. For in either 
case we run the risk of missing a valuable truth. 

It is better, therefore, to recognize that every act of knowing 
must involve risks, just as every act of living does ; and this for 
the simple reason that knowing is an activity comprised in living, 
and every judgement is an act, which might have been left undone, 
or for which another might have been substituted. The readiness 
of the new conception of logic to emphasize the existence of risks 
in aU reasoning, and to sanction the willingness to take them, 

1 Usually, but wrongly, caUed ' dispassionate ' or ' disinterested '. What is 
wanted is, not that the inquiring mind should take no interest in the conclusions 
it considers, but that, though it cares keenly and even passionately for one of 
them, it should yet be capable of sufi&cient self-control to consider fairly the case 
against the conclusion it favours. This mental attitude is probably best secured by 
caring more for truth than for a party victory, and is denominated a 'disinterested 
love of truth for its own sake '. But even so we love what we deem the truth, 
because it is the best thing to believe, and better (on the whole and in the end) 
than anything else that is propovmded. 


contrasts markedly with the vain efforts of the old logic to play for 
safety, and to make no move that was not absolutely necessary 
(cf. § 10). This was why it postulated absolutely certain premisses, 
and would contemplate nothing but ' valid ' forms of reasoning. 
In its desire to elevate its proofs above the perplexities and vicissi- 
tudes of mundane problems, the old logic was expressing and 
comforting a deep-seated human craving : for life is so replete 
with the most hideous risks that it is a natural instinct to clutch 
at any promise of security. Hence the passionate and almost 
religious reverence with which formal logic has been regarded for 
over 2,000 years. Many philosophers still worship the syllogism, 
because it seems to them an incomparable exemplar of absolute 
security firmly fixed in the sphere of immutable necessity far above 
the flux of phenomena, which it illumines with its steady radiance. 
But to exalt in this way its ideal of proof, the old logic had to 
pay a heavy price. The price was cutting the ideal wholly adrift 
from the actual, contemplating exclusively a situation which could 
never occur in real life, and leaving all actual inquiry to its devices, 
unstudied, uncriticized, and unaided. Thus, the splendid aloofness 
of the logical ideal was purchased by a total repudiation of actual 
science. To many philosophic minds this price does not seem 
excessive. The more useless truth is made to appear, the purer 
and more admirable it seems to them. An ideal, they think, 
should be like Aristotle's ' god ' ; it should attract, without up- 
lifting, and without running the risk of contamination by the dirty 
work of life. 

These philosophers have always claimed for their attitude that 
it is philosophic par excellence. But their claim, besides being based 
on a somewhat rare personal idiosyncrasy, is not really sound. 
It is neither self -consistent nor a sound policy for life. An ideal 
which repudiates the actual, and yet professes somehow to be its 
exemplar, is left in the impossible condition of the Platonic ' Idea '. 
If it were as superhuman as it claims to be, no human mind could 
even speculate about it. And we have seen (§ 13) that it is not 
in the end possible to devise a form of proof which is bomb-proof 
against the attacks of experience and superior to verification. 

Is it not wiser, then, to admit that life has its claims upon 
science, and science upon logic ? We simply must have a science 
that can handle human life and meet human needs, and does not 
degenerate into a game with arbitrary and fantastic rules which 


depart from the actual conditions of life in any direction and 
to any distance unrestrained imagination carries them; and our 
logic must deign to study such a science. If to do so it has to 
' scrap ' its antique ' ideals ', to abandon its pose of an inhuman, 
impassible, infallible aloofness, and to interest itself in the doubt- 
ing, questioning, guessing, trying, risking, blundering, correcting, 
achieving that make up the sum of human knowledge, it will 
receive an ample reward in the gratitude of man for a logic that 
has entered his service, and in the salutary influence which it will 
exercise upon his actions. 


(1) We have shown, negatively, that the notion of a form of 
proof, by which conclusions can be absolutely demonstrated by 
dint of pure logic alone, is a delusion. No such form can be con- 
structed (§§ 13, 15), and if it could, it could neither find scientific 
material worthy of it (§ 28), nor contain the material which is 
fabricated by the sciences. 

(2) We have thereby shown that formal logic cannot represent 
the logical nature of discovery or of any of the processes of actual 
knowing, and must condemn them all as 'invalid' (§§ 18,20,26,28). 

(3) We have seen that a logic which attempts to understand 
actual knowing cannot prescribe to the sciences how they are to 
solve their problems (§ 33). 

(4) But it can grasp the general character of scientific procedure, 
appreciate its difficulties and dangers, understand the expedients 
for meeting them, and trace it to its roots in the constitution of 
the human mind and in the needs of life (§ 35). 

(5) In virtue of its general grasp of the aim and method of the 
sciences a logic of science can at times offer advice to scientists: 
it may draw their attention to the general problems which their 
work involves, but which are apt to be overlooked by specialists, 
such as the claims of consistency and novelty and the regulation 
of risks (§ 36). Or, better still, if they will study it themselves, 
it may broaden their minds and enable them to handle these 
general problems for themselves far more effectively than a pure 
logician could do it for them. 

(6) By abandoning its pretensions to rigour and conclusiveness 
logic does not really lose : it gains immensely by coming into 
contact with science and life, and becoming of use in the world. 

1892 U 


Abano : see Peter of Abano. 

Abercrombie, John, Inquiries concerning 
the IntdleetwjH Powers, 249 n. 

Abi 'Usaibia, Ibn, 227 and n. 4, 228 
n. 5, 229. 

Abu'l Faraj Gregory, cited, 228 n. 3. 

Acbillini, Alessandro, 95, 98, 105 ; Anno- 
tationes anatomiae, 95 n. 4. 

Adelphus, Johannes (J. A. Muelich), Mun- 
dini de omnibus humani corporis inte- 
riorihus tnembris Anathomia, 93 n. 3, 96 
n. 2, 128 fig. 22. 

Adrian IV, Pope, St. Hildegard's corre- 
spondence with, 5. 

Agobard, St., of Lyons, on witchcraft, 191. 

Agrippa, Cornelius, opposition to witch 
mania by, 214, 215. 

Al Afdal, Sultan, 226. 

Alberic the younger, Benedictine monk, of 
Monte Cassino, 21. 

Albertotti, G., Nuove osservazioni sul 
'Fasciculus medicinae' del Ketham, 90 
n. 3. 

Albertus Magnus, 22, 32, 51, 113, 114. 

Albigensian heresy, 192. 

Alcoatim, anatomical work by, 121. 

Alexander III, Pope, St. Hildegard's corre- 
spondence with, 6. 

Alexander V, Pope, 99 ; post-mortem 
examination on, 94. 

Alexander of Neckam, 22, 23. 

Alexander of Tralles, 182. 

Alhazen, 122. 

'Ali 'Abbas : see Haly Abbas. 

Al Qifty, Classes Philosophorum et astro- 
nomorum et medicorum, 229 and n. 3. 

Al Tamimi al Muqaddasi, 231 n. 2. 

Alva, Duke of, 221. 

Ampfere, cited, 21. 

Analecta Bollandiana, 6 n. 2. 

Anastasius IV, Pope, St. Hildegard's corre- 
spondence with, 5. 

Anatomy in the fourteenth and fifteenth 
centuries, 79-86 ; Bologiiese works on 
anatomy, 92-7 ; drawings of anatomical 
structures, &c., 44, 45, 46, 81, 83, 84, 

87-91, 96, 105, 112, 114, 116, 117, 
120, 121, 122, 127, 128, 129, 130, 
plates XVIII, XXVII, xxviii, xxix, xxx, 
XXXI, xxxii, xxxiii, xxxiv, XXXV, XXXVI. 
See also Manfredi, Hieronymo. 

Anaximander, 257. 

Annalen des Vereins fiir Nassauische 
Alterthumskumde und Geschichtsfor- 
schung, 13 w. 3. 

Anstis, John, History of the Garter, 167. 

Antipodes, the, mediaeval conception of, 
22, 23. 

Anzeiger fiir Kwnde der deutschen Vorzeit, 

Apocalypse, the, 20. 

Aquinas, 51, 193. 

Arabians, influence on early science and 
on medicine, 17, 18, 29, 84, 86, 92, 
93, 115, 120, 121, 129, 225-34. 

Archaeological Journal (British Archaeolo- 
gical Association), 166w. 1, 172»i. 3, 178. 

Archimedes, 263. 

Archiv fiir die GeschicIUe der Medizin, 38 
n. 4, 44 nn. 4, 5, 45 n. 1, 87 nn. 1, 3; 4, 
89 n. 2, 114 n. 3, 121 n. 1, 122 n. 1, 
127 w. 5. 

Archiv fiir die Geschichte der Naturwissen- 
schaften und der Technik, 121 n. 1. 

Archiv fiir die zeichn^nden Kilnste, 87 n.5. 

Archiv fur Pathologic, 13 w. 4, 226 n. 1. 

Argellata, Pietro d', description of the 
examination of the body of Pope Alex- 
ander V, 94 and n. 2. 

Aristippus, translation of Aristotle's Me- 
teorologica, 24 w. 

Aristotle, 288; anatomical conceptions of, 
46 »i., 126, 127; logic and dialectics, 
238, 240, 243, 245, 248, 250, 252, 254, 
255, 257, 259 ; physiological theories, 
50 M. 4, 60,61, 71, 73, 75; theory of the 
elements, 1 7, 25. Works cited : Analytica 
posteriora, 238, 245 »i., 252 «., 257 w. ; 
De caelo et mundo, 17 ; Be partibus 
animalium, 46 n. \, 126 nn. 4, 5; 
Historia animalium, 126 nn. 3, 4, 5; 
Meteorologica, 24. 

U 2 



Armengaud de Blaise, Latin translation of 

Haimonides on Poisons, 226 n.l. 
Arnald of Villanova, charge of sorcery 

against, 193. 
Astrology, 38, 47, 97, 98. 
Athanasius, St., 4, 7. 
Atti e Memorie della E. Deputazione di 

Storia Patria per le Provincie di Ro- 

magna, 99 n. 2. 
Augsburg, Peace of, 194. 
Augustine, St., 17, 20, 51, 113, 198, 216. 
Avempace, 17. 
Averroes, 17, 95. 
Avicebron, 17, 43 n. 1. 
Avicenna, 17, 18, 86, 93, 94, 95, 101, 105, 

113, 121, 122, 127, 129, 182. 
Azzolino, first recorded case of dissection at 

Bologna, 92. 

Bacher, "W., Moses hen Maimon, 229 n. 1. 
Bacon, Francis, Natural and Experimental 

History, 180. 
Bacon, Roger, anatomical writings and 

drawings by, 113, 116, 121, 122, plate 

xxxvni (a) ; on the structure of the 

universe, 22. 
Baillct, Dom Louis, 55 n. ; Les Miniatures 

du Scivias de sainte Hildegarde, 7 nn. 1, 

2, 12 n.l. 
Baker, F., cited, 79 n. 2. 
Balgi, Vinceiizo, cited, 30 n. 
Baluze, Etienne, Miscellanea nova ordine 

digesta et nan paucis ineditis monumentis 

opportunisque animadversionibus aucta 

opera ac studio J. D. Mansi, 9 n. 
Bamberg, witch-burning in the bishopric 

of, 194, 204, 208-10, 212. 
Barach, C. S., cited, 19 w. 2, 37 n. 1, 38 n. 1 . 
Baret, John, of Bury St. Edmunds, 172. 
Bar Hebraeus, cited, 228, 229. 
Bartholomaeus Anglicus (Bartholomaeus 

de Glanvilla), anatomical drawings of, 

80 fig. 1, 85 fig. 4 ; De Proprietatibus 

Rerum, 129 n.2. 
Battandier, Albert, Sainte Hildegarde, sa 

vie et ses oeuvres, 5 ra. 3 ; cited, 1 6 ?i. 3, 2 1 

n. 3, 23 n. 5. 
Bay ford, Robert, Enchiridion Medicum, 181. 
Beck, Theodor, Die Galenischen Hirnner- 

ven in moderner Beleuchtung, 118 n. 1 . 
Bede, the Venerable, 22. 
Beitrdge zur Geschichte der Pkilosoj)hie des 

Mittelalters, 113 w. 3. 
Benedict, St., 4, 7. 
Benivieni, Antonio, De abditis nonnullis 

ac inirandis morborum et sanationuin 

causis, 81 and m. 3. 

Benjamin of Tudela, 20. 

Bentivoglio, Annibale, 104. 

Bentivoglio 11, Giovanni : Manfredi's dedi- 
cations to, 101, 103, 104, 105, 130; 
portrait of, 104, plate xxxvii. 

Bergson, Henri Louis, 285. 

Berkshire, ancient custom concerning rings 
and the cure of epilepsy, 173. 

Berlin : see Manuscripts. 

Bernard, Claude, 68. 

Bernard of Chartres, 37 n. 1. 

Bernard, St., abbot of Claii-vaux, 4 ; St. 
Hildegard's correspondence with, 5. 

Bernard Sylvestris : see Sylvestris. 

Berners, Lord, Cloister Life of Clutrles V, 
173 and n.3. 

Beroaldo, Filippo, 98, 99. 

Berthelet, Thomas (printer), 129. 

Bertuccio (professor of surgery at Bologna), 
anatomical demonstrations by, 82, 94. 

Bichat, X., 66. 

Bingen, 2, 4, 7, 8, 12, 20. 

Binsfeld, Peter, Bishop of Treves, persecu- 
tion of witches by, 197, 198, 222; Trac- 
tatus de confessionibus male/icorum, 197, 
198 n. 2, 222 n. 2. 

Binz, Dr. K., biography of Dr. John Weyer, 

Biological theories, 59 ff. 

Birth and death and the nature of the soul, 
Hildegaid's views on, 49, 50, plates xix, 


Black Death, the, 193. 

Blaise : see Armengaud de Blaise. 

Blake, William, 53. 

Bbckelheim, 2, 3. 

Boethius, 17, 21. 

Bbhmer, J. H., lus ecclesiasticum, 206 
n. 2. 

Boleyn, Anne, and the use of cramp-rinQ;s, 
174, 175, 176. 

Bologna, anatomical studies at, in the 
fifteenth century, 78, 79, 81 n., 82, 84; 
anatomical works emanating from, 92- 7 ; 
astrology at, 97-8 ; colleagues of Man- 
fredi at University, 98 ; Manfredi's 
house, 99 ; Medical Faculty at, 92 ; 
Palazzo dei Bentivoglio, 104. 

Boncompagni, Baldassare, Della vita e delle 
opere di Gherardo Gremonese, ^-c, 17 

Boniface, St., on witchcraft, 191. 

Boniface VIII, Pope, 201. 

Boorde, Andrew, on the blessing of cramp- 
rings, 1 76 ; Breviarie of Health, ibid. ; 
Introduction of Knowledge, ibid. 

Borelli, J. A., 68. 



Bosco : see Johannes Sacro Bosco. 

Boselli, E., 55 n. 

Boswell, James, cited, 182. 

Botanik in hulturhistorischer Entwickelung, 
12 «. 2. 

Bonrdeaux : see John of Bourdeaux. 

Boyle, Eobert, 32. 

Bracara, synod of, 193. 

Brand, J., Popular AntiquUies, 173 w. 3. 

Braun, Dr., torture of witches by, 208, 209, 

Brewer, J. S., State Papers : Bvdaei Epi- 
stolae, 173 n.G. 

Bristol : see Manuscripts. 

Brockelmann, K., Geschichte der arabischen 
Litteratur, 226 n. 1, 228 n.5, 229 n. 3. 

Brown, Sir Thomas, on witchcraft, 214, 
222, 223. 

Bude, Guillaume, and the use of cramp- 
rings, 173, 174. 

Bufifon, Histoire G^nerale des Animaux, 66. 

Bulletin de la Societe francaise d'histoire 
de la medeciTie, 39 n. 2. 

Bulletin of the Johns Hopkins Hospital, 
79 n. 2. 

Bunge, Gustav, physiological views of, 64. 

Burnet, Bishop Gilbert, History/ of the 
Reformation, on the blessing of cramp- 
rings, 174, 175, 177. 

Bwry Wills (Camden Society), 172 n. 2. 

Burzio, Niccolo, Bononia illustrata, 97 n. 4. 

Cabalistic systems of the Jews, 20. 
Caetani, Michelangelo, duca di Sermoneta, 

La materia ddla Divina Com/media di 

Dante Allighieri dichiarata in vi tavole, 

31 fig. 4. 
Cambridge : see Manuscripts. 
Cardan, Jerome, 214. 
Carpi, Giacomo Berengario da, 95-7, 106, 

106 ; Anatliomia Mundini, 96 n. 1 ; 

Gommentaria cum amplissimis additio- 

nihus super anatomia Mundini, 96 «. 1. 
Carpi, Hugo da, anatomical drawings of, 

Carpzov, Benedict, death-sentences on 

witches and sorcerers by, 206. 
Cartesian physiology, principles of, 68. 
Cartulaire de VUniversite de Montpellier, 

79 n. 1. 
Cathari (Albigensian sect), persecution of, 

4, 192. 
Cavazza, Francesco, Le Scuole dell' antico 

studio bolognese, 99 n. 3. 
Caxton, William, story of Edward the 

Confessor and his ring in the Golden 

Legend, 165—6. 

Cervetto, G., Di alcuni illustri anaiomici 
italiani del decimoquinto secolo, 89 n.2. 
Chantilly : see Manuscripts. 
Charlemagne, laws of, regarding witch- 
craft, 191. 
Charles I, 126 n. 2. 
Charles II and the Eoyal Society, 274. 
Charles V, Emperor of Germany and King 

of Spain, use of cramp-rings by, 173. 
Charms against diseases, 181, 182. See 

also Cramp-rings. 
Chartres, Bernard of : see Bernard. 
Chaucer's use of the word ' cramp ', 180. 
Chauliac, Guy de, Qrande Chirurgie, 81 
n. 2, 82, 83 n., 84 n. 1, 94, 105, 121, 
plates XXIX, xxx ; fourteenth-century 
post-mortem scene from, 81 n.2. 
Choulant, L., Geschichte und Bihliographie 
der anatomisohen Abbildung nach ihrer 
Beziehung auf anatomische Wissenschaft 
und bildende Kunst, 87 re. 6, 89 «.. 2. 
Christian view of witchcraft : early times, 
190, 191, 198, 216; mediaeval age, 191- 
4, 201 ; Reformation period, 190, 191, 
194-6, 213, 220, 221 ; later times, 195, 
204, 222. 
Chrysostom, St., 216. 
Clement V, Pope, 201. 
Clerval, A., Les Scales de Chartres au 

Moyen Age, 19 n. 2, 37 n. 2. 
Cleves, Duke William of, 216, 220, 221, 

Cleves, witchcraft in the duchy of, 220. 
Oolle, Francesco Maria, Storia scientifico- 
letteraria dello Studio di Padova, 82 re. 2. 
Coloman, King of Hungary, on witchcraft, 

Como, witch-burning in the diocese of, 

Concoreggio, Giovanni da, Lucidarium et 

Flos Medioirtae, 95 and re. 1. 
Conrad, Emperor, Hildegard's correspon- 
dence with, 5. 
Conrad of Marburg, cited, 192 n.G. 
Constantine Africanus, medical writings 
of, 13, 16, 43, 121, 127; De communi- 
bus medico cognitu necessariis locis, 44 
and re. 2, 1 14 re. 1 ; De humana natura, 
45, 50; Pantechni. Theorice, 127 re. 4. 
Couybeare, F. C, Key of Truth, 192 re. 4. 
Copenhagen : see Manuscripts. 
Copernicus, 43. 

Copho of Salerno, AnatoiDiia porci, 43, 44. 
Gotta' s Jubildums-Ausgabe, 8 n. 2. 
Craigie, Dr., History of Anatomy, 93 re. 2. 
Cramp, early use of the term, 180-2. 
Cramp-rings, the blessing of, by the kings 



and queens of England, 165-87; cere- 
monies of blessing cramp-rings used on 
Good Friday, 184-7; office of consecra- 
tion used by Queen Mary, 177-9, 182- 
4; origin of the ceremony, 165, 179, 
180, 182 ; ceremonial observed, 167, 
168, 171, 178, 179 ; its disuse, 179, 
180 ; bequests of cramp-rings, 172, 176; 
diseases covered by the word ' cramp ', 

Crawfurd, Kaymond : The Blessing of 
Cramp-rings ; a chapter in the history 
of the treatment of epilepsy, 165-87; 
King's Evil, cited, 171 w. 

Cremona, Gerard of : see Gerard. 

Cross, ceremonial of oifering and creeping 
to the, 167, 168, 169. 

Cuyer, E., Histoire de I'Andtomieplastique, 
86 n. 2. 

Dallari, Umberto, / rotuli dei letiori legisti 
e artisti dello studio holognese dal 1384 
al 1799, 98 ?i. 1. 

Dalton, J. C, Doctrines of the Circulation, 
130 n. 3. 

Damascenus, Johannes, 113. 

Daniel, Book of, 20. 

Dante, Divina Corwmedia, 23 ; Quaestio de 
aqua et terra, 30 ra. ; scheme of the uni- 
verse, 1, 21, 22, 23, 30, 31. 

Daremberg, C, editor of Liber subtilitatum, 
1 3 ; (Euvres anatomiques, physiologiques 
et medicales de Galien, 118 n. 1. 

Darwinian theory, 236, 242, 245, 257. 

Datura Stramonium, or thorn-apple, 199. 

De caelo et mundo, 1 7. 

Delation, 202. 

Demiurgus, the, 192. 

Demoniacs, 199, 215-22. See also Witch- 

Denmark, witchcraft in, 222. 

De sagarum natura et 2>otestate, ^c, 208 
n. 1. 

Descartes, biological theories of, 67, 68. 

Devil, mediaeval views of the, 190, 192-4, 
207, 216. 

Devonshire, ancient custom concerning 
rings and the cure of epilepsy, 173; 
charm against fits, 182. 

Dewey, Professor John, 259. 

Dialectical proof in relation to scientific 
discovery, 238. 

Dictionary of National Biography, 2iQn. 1. 

Diefenbach, J., Der Hexenwahn, 195 w. 1, 
221 n. 1. 

Diogenes Laertius, 259 n. 

Disibode, St., Hildegard's life of, 3. 

Disibodenberg, convent of, 2, 42. 

Dissection : see Anatomy. 

Dresden : see Manuscripts. 

Driesch, Hans, biological theories of, 62-4, 

69, 70, 71, 73, 75 ; Analytiselie Theorie, 

62, 70, 75 ; Vitalismus, 75. 
Dryander, Johannes, Anatomia, 95 n. 3, 

Duval, M., Histoire de l' Anatomic plas- 

tique, 86 n. 2. 

Edward the Confessor and his ring, story 
of, 165, 166. 

Edward II and the blessing of cramp- 
rings, 167, 169. 

Edward III and the blessing of cramp- 
rings, 169, 170. 

Edward IV and the blessing of cramp- 
rings, 171. 

Edward VI and the blessing of cramp- 
rings, 175, 177. 

Ehrenberg : see Philip of Ehrenberg. 

Eibingen, 8. 

Eleemosyna Eolls of Edward III, 169, 

Elements, mediaeval theories of the, 25-30. 

Elizabeth of Schonau, visions of, 21, 22. 

Ellis, Sir Henry, 178. 

England, first printed map of, 99, 100. 

Epilepsy and other spasmodic disorders, 
blessing of cramp-rings for the cure of, 

Essling, Prince d', Les livres a figures veni- 
tiens de la fin du xv' siecle et du com- 
mencement du XTi^, 89 TO. 5. 

Euclidean geometry, 239, 240, 250, 280. 

Eugenius III, Pope, Hildegard's corre- 
spondence with, 5. 

Eye, anatomy of the, 118-22. 

Ezekiel, Book of, 20. 

Fantuzzi, Giovanni, Notizie degli scrittori 
holognesi, 97 to. 2, 99 to. 1. 

Faust, magic feats of, 215, 216, 218. 

Ferckel, Christoph, cited, 121 to. 1. 

Ferrari, H. M., Une Chaire de Medecine 
au X'v^ siecle; Un professeur a I'uni- 
versite de Pavie de 1432 a 1472, 86 n. 3. 

Florence, Uifizi Gallery, painted repre- 
sentation of the Cross, 10, 11, plate x. 

Fludd, Eobert, Historia utriusque cosmi, 
41 figs. 6, 7, 43 ; Philosophia sacra seu 
astrologia cosmica, 42 fig. 8, 43. 

Fonahm, A., cited, 86 n. 1, 130 to. 1. 

Forner, Bishop, witch-burning by, 208. 

Fortescue, Sir John, Defensio Juris Dmnus 
Lancastriae, 171. 



Fracastor, 43. 

Frankfort, witchcraft at, 221. 

Fi-ati, Lndovico, La vitaprivata di Bologna 

dal aecolo xni al xni, 84 n. 2. 
Frederic Barbarossa, Emperor, Hildegard'e 

correspondence with, 5. 
Froissart, 173. 
Fulda, witch-burning in the bishopric of, 

Fundis, Giovanni de, 98. 

Gabotto, Ferdinando, Bartolomeo Manfredi 
e I'Astrologia alia Corte di MarUova, 
97 n. 4. 

Galen, 17, 43, 44, 46 n. 1, 61, 67, 84, 86, 
87, 97, 105, 110, 111 n., 113 and n. 2, 
115, 118, 125, 126, 127, 128, 136w., 
182 ; De ueu partium corporis kumani, 
110 w.l, 118 w. 2; De Hippocratis et 
Platonie decretis, 118 n. 2 ; illuminated 
codex of, 87, 88, plate xxxrv; Uepl 

avaToitiK&v fyxfipTjaeav, 127 n. 1. 

Galileo, 43. 

Garbo, Tommaso di, 94. 

Gardiner, Stephen, Bishop of Winchester, 

and the use of cramp-rings, 174, 175, 

Garrod, H. W., Manili Astronomicon, 39 n. 
Garter, Order of the, 178. 
Gebeno, prior of Eberbach, mediaeval 

writer, 15. 
Geffcken, J., Dr. Johann Weyer, 189 n. 
Gentleman's Magazine, 169 nn. 1, 2, 173 
» nn. 1, 2, 4, 174 m. 1. 
Geographical Journal, 99 n. 4. 
George, John, prince-bishop, witch-burning 

by, 208. 
Gerard of Cremona, scientific works of, 17, 

18, 128. 
Gerbi, Gabriele de (de Zerbis), 95, 98, 105 ; 

Liber Anatomiae corporis hwmani et 

singulorum membrorum illius, 95 w. 2. 
German block book {Symbolum Apostoli- 

corum) of the fifteenth century, 39, 

plate XVII. 
Gersdorff, Hans von, Feldt- und Statihuch 

bewerter Wundartznei, anatomical draw- 
ings, 129 fig. 23, 130 «. 2. 
Gertrude of Robersdorf, visions of, 21. 
Ghazali, Ibn, 61, 113. 
Gilbert, William, 32. 
Glanvilla, Bartholomaeus de: see Bartho- 

lomaeus Anglicus. 
Glaubrecht, O., Die Schreckensjahre von 

Lindheim, 204 n. 1. 
Gloucester, Eleanor Cobham, Duchess of, 

charged with witchcraft, 193. 

Gneyth Cross, homage paid to the, 168, 

169, 170. 
Godefrid, the monk, biography of St. Hilde- 

gard by, 5, 7, 51. 
Goeje, M. J. de, Cafalogioe of Arabic Manu- 
scripts in the Library at Ley den, 228 

n. 2. 
Goelicke, A. 0., Introdicctio in historiam 

litterariam anatomes, 8 1 w. 
Goethe, Am Ehein, Main und Neckar, 

8 «. 2. 
Golius, James, collection of Oriental MSS. , 

229, 230. 
Good Friday, the hallowing of cramp-rings 

on, and ofiering and creeping to the 

cross, 167-9, 171, 179, 184-7. 
GotchjF., on biological phenomena, 70, 71. 
Grado, Giammatteo Ferrari da (Matthaeus 

de Gradibus), Exposition's super vige- 

simam secundum Fen tertii eanonis 

Avicennae, 86 n. 3; Practica, ibid. 
Great Schism, the, 193. 
Greek dialectics, 237, 238, 259. 
Greeks, biological speculations of the, 61. 
Gregory VII, Pope, forbids inquisition for 

witches and sorcerers, 192. 
Gregory IX, Pope, 6. 
Gregory XI, Pope, 192 n. 6. 
Gregory Nazianzen, St., 216. 
Grimm, Wilhelm, Wiesbader Glossen, 5 n. 2, 

8 n.3. 
Guibert, the monk, life of St. Hildegard' 

by, 5 n. 3, 16 n. 3. 
Guido de Vigevano : see Vigevano. 
Gurlt, E., Biographisches Leankon der 

hervorragenden Aerzle, 103. 
Guy de Chauliac : see Chauliac. 

Haeser, H., Geschichte der Medizin, 225- 
n. 1, 226 n. 10. 

Haldane, J. S., on biological phenomena, 
65, 66. 

Haller, Albrecht \on, Bibliotlieca anatomica, 
81 n., 103 n.l. 

Haly Abbas, 105, 113, 121, 127. 

Handhueh der Geschichte der Medizin ^ 
92 w. 4. 

Hardouin, Jean (Harduinus), Gollectio regia 
maxima conciliorum graecorum et latino- 
rum, 191 n, 1. 

Harpsfield, Nicholas, Historia Anglicana 
Ecclesiastica, on the blessing of cramp- 
rings, 179, 180. 

Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, 
18 n. 1. 

Harvey, William, 32 ; Exercitatio anato- 
mica de motu cordis et sanguinis, 126 



n. 2 ; Prelectiones anatomiae univer- 
salis, 126 and n. 1. 

Haskins, C. H., cited, 18 w. 1. 

Haupt, Moriz, Zeitschrift filr deutsches 
Alterthum, 5 w. 2, 8 n. 3. 

Head, anatomy of the, 106-18. 

Heart, anatomy of the, 122-30. 

Heavenly city, Hildegard's vision of the, 
54, plate xxv. 

Heidelberg : see Manuscripts. 

Helmont, P. M. van, 68. 

Helmreich, TAAHNOY nffu. xP^las /loplav, 
118 n.l. 

Henri de MondeviUe : see Mondeville. 

Henrici, Professor, 55 n. 

Henry II (of England) and his consort, 
Hildegard's hortatory letters to, 5. 

Henry IV and the blessing of cramp- rings, 

Henry VII and the blessing of cramp- 
rings, and the ceremonial of touching 
for the evil, 167, 168, 172. 

Henry VIII and the blessing of cramp- 
rings, 175, 176, 177. 

Henschen, Godfrey, 8. 

Heppe, H., Geschichte der Hexenproces&e, 
191 w. 1, 192*1.2, 193 w., 203 Ji. 3, 
206 nn. 1, 2, 208 n. 4. 

Heraclitus, 256. 

Herbert, J. A., 55 n.; Illuminated Manu- 
scripts, 10 n. 1. 

Heresy and witchcraft, identification of, 
by the Church, 192-4, 201, 220, 221. 

Hermann the Dalmatian, 17 n. 1. 

Hermas, Shepherd of, 20. 

Hermes, 24 n. 

Herrade de Landsberg, Hortus deliciarum, 
20, 21, 22, 23, 27, 40 fig. 5, 42, 48 
fig. 9, 55 n. 

Hertford, Edward Seymour, Earl of, present 
of cramp-rings by, 175. 

Hilaire the Great, St., of Poitiers, 38 
n. 4. 

Eildegard, St. (1098-1 180), The Scientific 
Views and Visions of, 1—55. Biographi- 
cal details, 2-6, 51-2; bibliographical 
note, 6—12 ; canonization, proposals for, 
6 ; correspondence, 3-5 ; journeys, 4 ; 
language, 12, 15, 16; miniatures, 7, 8, 
10-12, 34, 35, 49, 51, plates i, ill, vi-ix, 
xi; musical compositions, 3 ; pathological 
basis of visions, 51-3; patristic influ- 
ence, 1 7 ; sources of scientific knowledge, 
15-22; visions, 3, 7, 10, 11, 16 n. 3, 17, 
20, 21, 22, 27, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 40, 43, 
51-5. Hildegard's views on — anatomy 
and physiology, 14, 18, 30, 43-8 ; astro- 

logy, 18, 34; birth and death and the 
nature of the soul, 49-5 1 ; elements, 
the, 25-30 ; macrocosm and microcosm, 
9, 16 w., 18, 19, 20, 30-43, 45, 51; 
structure of the material universe, 8, 13, 
14, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22-30, 39; winds, 
25-7, 34. Works: Ad praelatos Mo- 
guntienses, 7 ; Explanatio regulae sancii 
Benedicti, 4l, 7 ; Explanatio symholi 
sancti Aihanasii ad congregationem 
sororum suorum, 4 : Expositiones evan- 
geliorum, 7 ; Ignota lingua, 5, 7, 15 n.; 
Jgnotae litterae, 7 ; Liber divinorum 
operum simplicis hominis, 3, 7, 8—12, 
14, 16«,., 18, 19, 20, 22 w., 24 w., 25, 
27, 28, 30, 32, 34, 35, 36, 39 n., 40, 42, 
51, plates V (6), vr, vii, vui, ix, xi ; 
Liber epistolarwm, 7, 12 ; Liber orationum, 
7 ; Liber vitae meritorum per simplicem 
hominem a vivente luce revelatorum, 3, 

6, 12, 14»i., 19, 20, 21; Litterae villa- 
renses, 7 ; Lives of St. Disibode and St. 
Eupert, 3, 7 ; Quaestionum solutiones 
triginta octo, 4; Scivias, 3, 6, 7, 8, 12, 
14»i., 18, 19, 20, 21, 24 w., 27, 28, 30, 
34, 42 «.., 49, 53, plates ni, iv; Sym- 
phonia harmoniae celestum revelationum, 

7. Spurious scientific works : Beatae 
HUdegardis causae et curae, 12, 14, 
plate v(a); Revelatio defratribus quatuor 
mendicantium ordinum, 1 5 ; Speculum 
futurorum, temporum, 15 ; Subtilitatum 
diversarumqucf creaturarum libri novem, 
13, 14. 

Hippocrates, 218, 219. 

Hirsch, A., Biographisches Lexikon der 

hervorragenden Aerzte, 103, 225 n. 1. 
Hopstock, H., cited, 86?i. 1, 130w. 1. 
Horst, G. C, cited, 204, 205, 206; 

Ddmonomagie, 204 n. 1, 205 n., 206 w.4; 

Zauberbibliothek, 204 n. 1, 205 n. 
Hoton, Thomas de, rector of Kyrkeby- 

misperton (Yorkshire), 172. 
Hubrecht, A. A. W., 57. 
Hugh of St. Victor, De area Noe mystica, 

20 ; De hestiis et aliis rebti^, 45 and n. 2, 

46 n. 2. 
Hunain ben Ishak, anatomical writings of, 

120, 121. , 
Hundt, M., anatomical drawings of, 96 

»i. 2, 105; Antropologium, de hominis 

dignitate natura et proprietatibus, 112 

fig. 11. 
Huntington, Robert, Bishop of Raphoe, 

229, 230. 
Husee, John, and the use of cramp-rings, 

175, 176. 



Hutchinson, F., Historical Essay concern- 
ing Witchcraft, 195 n. 3, 222 n. 2. 

Illv,etrations of the manners and expences 

of antient times in England, 177. 
Innocent IV, Pope, 6. 
Innocent VIII, Pope, bull of, concerning 

witchcraft, 193. 
Institoris, H., Malleus Malejkarum, 194 

and n., 201-3. 
Isaac Judaeus, Viaticv/m, 44. 
Isidore Hispalensis, 13, 16, 17, 19, 21, 

22, 27. 
Italian miniatures, mediaeval, 10, 11. 

James I, Daemonologia, 214. 

Janssen, J., GeschicMe des deutschen Volhes, 

190 n., 212 n. 
Janics, 113 n.2. 

Jenkinson, John Wilfred : Vitalism, 59-78. 
— biographical notice of, 57-8 ; list of 

books and papers by, 58 ; portrait of, 

plate XXVI. 
Jerome, St., 216. 
Jessen, C, cited, 12 n. 2. 
Jesu Aly, anatomical work by, 121. 
Jewish Quarterly Review, 20 n. 2. 
Jews, dissemination of scientific knowledge 

in the Middle Ages by, 17, 20. 
Joan of Arc, 193. 
Job, Book of, 24, 50, 216. 
Johannes Sacro Bosoo, 23. 
John XXII, Pope, 6. 
John of Bourdeaux, tract on the plague by, 

John of Peckham, anatomical writings of, 

Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 182. 
Jong, P. de, Catalogiie of Arabic MSS. in 

the Library at Ley den, 228 n. 2. 
Joseph, H. W. B., Logic, 239 n. 
Jourdain, Charles, Dissertation sur Vetat de 

la philosophie naturelle , . . 2>«?idaw< la 

j/remidre moitie du xil^ siecle, 19 n. 2. 
Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 44 

n. 5. 
Judaeus : see Isaac Judaeus. 
Junius, John; burgomaster of Bamberg, 

account of his trial for witchcraft, 209- 

Justin Martyr, 216. 

Kaiser, Paul, Hildegardis causae et curae, 
12 n.2. 

Kant, Critique of the Teleological Judge- 
ment, 71-3, 75; scheme of a priori, 

Keller, Q., edition of Herrade de Lands- 
berg's Hortus deliciarum, 21 w. 4, 40 
fig. 5, 48 fig. 9. 

' Ketham ', Fasciculus medicinae, ana- 
tomical drawings, 89, 90, 91 fig. 7, 
96 M. 2, 117 fig. 17, plate xxvii. 

Khalfa, Haji, bibliography of Arabic works, 
228 n. 5, 229. 

Kiesewett«r, K., Die Geheimwissenschafkn, 
199 n. 2. 

King's Evil, touching for the, 167, 171, 
172, 178. 

Kouing, P. de, Traite sur le calcul, 228 
n. 5 ; Trois Traites d' Anatomic arahes, 
113 n. 1, 127 ra. 3. 

Kotzendbrffer, Dr., torture of witches by, 
208, 209. 

Kraut, G., Experimentarius medicinae con- 
tinens Trotulae curandarum Aegritu- 
dinum muliebriwm . . . item quaticor 
Hildegardis de eiementorum,, etc., 1 3 m. 1 . 

Laboulbene, A., Les anatomistes anciens, 

92 n. 4. 
Lactantius, 216. 

Landsberg : see Herrade de Landsberg. 
Laplace, P. S., 66. 
Laufer, Berthold, Beitrdge zur Kenntnis 

der Tibetanischen Medizin, 44 n. 5. 
Lavoisier, 66. 

Lawrence, abbot of Westminster, 166. 
Lea, H. C, History of the Inquisition of 

the Middle Ages, 191 nn. 1, 2, 192 nn. 1, 

3, 6, 193 »i., 208*1.2, 214 ra. 
Lecky, W. E. H., on witchcraft, 223. 
Leclerc, L., 227; Histoire de la m^decine 

arabe, 226 n. 5, 229 n. 4. 
Leersum, E. C. van, Miniaturen der latei- 

nisehen Galenos-Handschrift der kgl. 

offe/ntl. Bibliothek in Dresden, 87—8 n. 
Leibnitz, 32, 68. 
Leitschuh, Dr. F., Beitrdge zur Geschichte 

des Hexenwesens in Franken, 209 and 

nn. 1-3. 
Lemgo, witch persecution at, 207. 
Leonardo da Vinci : see Vinci. 
Lerida, public anatomies at, in the four- 
teenth century, 79. 
Levy, Reuben : The Tractatus de Causis et 

Indidis Morborum attributed to Maimo- 

nides, 225-34. 
Leyden : see Manuscripts. 
Linacre, Thomas, and the use of crarap- 

ringa, 173, 174, 180. 
Linde, Antonius van der. Die Handschriften 

der Konigliclien Landesbibliothek in 

Wiesbaden, 6 w. 3, 8 n. 1. 



Lindheim, persecutions for witchcraft at, 

204, 205, 206. 
Lisle, Lady, and the use of cramp-ringp, 

175, 176. 
Lisle Papers, 175 nn. 3, 4, 176 nn. 1-4. 
Lockwood, D. P., The Sicilian Translators 

of the TwelflhCtntury and theFirst Latin 

Version of Ptolemy's 'Almagest ', 18 w. 1. 
Logical proof and scientific discovery, 235- 

Lones, T. E., Aristotle's Researches in 

Natural Science, 126 n. 5. 
Louis VII, 5. 
Lucca : see Manuscripts. 
Luciferans, or devil worshippers, sects of, 

Luther, Martin, 216, 224. 
Lutherans, persecution of, 194, 195. 
Luzzi, Mondino di : see Mondino. 

Macer, Floridus, 1 3. 

Macray, "W. D., Annals of the Bodleian, 
229 n. 5, 230 n. 1. 

Macrocosm, mediaeval and Eenaissance 
theories of the, 32, 38, 43 ; Hildegard's 
views on, 9, 16 »i., 18, 19, 20, 30-43, 
plates VII, VIII. 

Madrid : see Manuscripts. 

Magicians, 215, 218. See also Witch- 

Magnus, Dr. Thomas, and the use of cramp- 
rings, 174, 180. 

Maimonides, the Tractatus de Caitsis et 
Indiciis Morborum attributed to, 225- 
34 ; other works : Aphorisms, 232, 233 ; 
on Asthma and on Poisons, 226 ; Tra- 
ctatus de Morbo Regis Aegypti, 226 ; 
Tractatus de Regimine Sanitatis, 226. 

Malagola, Carlo, Statuti dell' Universild, e 
dei collegi dello Studio bolognese, 79 n. 3. 

Manfredi, Bartolomeo, anatomical drawing 
attributed to, 88, plate xxxvi. 

Manfredi, Giovanni, 99. 

Manfredi, Hieronymo, professor of medicine 
at Bologna (1463-93): account of his 
career, 97-9 ; astrological studies, 97-9, 
102, 103. Manuscript Anothomia of 
Manfredi, 103-64; translation of selected 
passages, with commentary: the brain, 
107-15; cranial nerves, 110, 111, 118; 
eye, 118-22; head, 106-18; heart, 122- 
30; skull, 106,107; Italian text of the 
Anothomia, 1 30-64. Printed works, 99- 
103; Centilogium de medicis et infirmis, 
102 ; Editio jirinceps of Ptolemy, 99 ; 
Liber de homine : cuius sunt libri duo. 
Primus liber de conservatione sanitatis 

(' II Perche '), 101 ; Prognosticon ad an- 
num 1479, 98, 1 02 ; Prognosticon anni 
1481, 102 ; Tractalo degno et utile de la 
pestilentia, 101. Other works attributed 
to Manfredi : Chiromantia secundum 
naturae vires ad extra, 103; Ephemerides 
astrologicae ojyerationes medicas spec- 
tantes, 103 ; Quaestiones subtilissimae 
super librum aphorismorum, 103. 
Manichean heresy, 192. 
Mansell, Monumenta Ritualia, 168. 
Mansi, Giovanni Domenico, Archbishop of 

Lucca, 9. 
Mantegna, Andrea, anatomical studies of, 

Manuscripts : 

Berlin : Al Qifty, Classes philosophorum 
et astronomorumetm^icorum,229n.3. 
Bristol Reference Library : French MS. 
of the Grande Chirurgie of Guy de 
Chauliac, 84 n., plate xxx (6). 
British Museum : Al Qifty, Glasses phi- 
losophorum et astronomorum et medi- 
corum, 229 n. 3 ; Bacon, Roger, De 
scientia perspectiva, 116 fig. 1 4 ; dia- 
gram of the eye, 122, plate xxxvin (a) ; 
cramp-ring made from offertory 
pennies, 173; De fundacione ecclesie 
Westm', 166 ; Eleemosyna Rolls of 
Edward III, 169, 170; Muhaddib ed 
Din, Delectus de Medicina, fragment, 
228 ; Household Accounts of Henry IV, 
Bury Wills (published by the Camden 

Society), 172 n. 2. 
Cambridge, University Library : Life of 
Edward the Confessor, 166, plate 


Chantilly : anatomical sketches from the 
MS. of Guy de Vigevano, 87, plates 


Copenhagen, Royal Library : Beatae 
Hildegardis causae et curae, 12, plate 

Dresden : illuminated codex of Galen, 
87, 88, plate xxxiv. 

Heidelberg, University Library: illu- 
minated MS. of the Scivias of St. 
HUdegard, 8, plates iii, iv. 

Leyden, University Library: Al Qifty, 
Classes philosophorum et astronom,oruni 
et medicorum, 229 n. 3 ; Golius's Ori- 
ental MSS., 230 ; Muhaddib ed Din, 
Delectus de Medicina, 228, 230. 

London Society of Antiquaries : Pro- 
clamation on the Creepyng of the 
Crosse, 169. 



Manusciipts (eontim(ed) : 

Lucca, Municipal Library: illustrated 
codex of the Liber divinorum operum 
simpUcis Iwminis of St. Hildegard, 
8-12, 22, 25, 28, 32, 34, 35, 39 n., 
40, 42, plates v (6), vi-ix, xi. 

Madrid, Escurial : Al Qifty, Glasses phi- 
loso2)horum et astronomorum et medi- 
corum, 229 n. 3. 

Montpellier, Bibliothique de la Faculty 
de M6decine: French MS. of the 
Grande Chirurgie of Guy de Chauliac, 
81 «. 2, plate xxix. 

Munich, 87 n. 1. 

Oxford, Bodleian Library: astrological 
■work translated from the Arabic by 
Hermann the Dalmatian, 17 w. ; dia- 
grams of internal organs, 87, 88 ; 
dissection scene, c. 1298, 81, plate 
xxvni (6) ; ' Five Figure ' anatomical 
series, 44, 87»i., 88 %. 6, plates xviii, 
XXXIII ; Hieronymo Manfredi, Anoiho- 
mia, 90, 103-C, 130-64; Marsh's 
Oriental MSS., 229; Muhaddib ed 
Din, Delectus de Medidim, 211 , 228 ; 
Tractatus de Causis et Indiciis Mor- 
borum, attributed to Maimonides, 225, 
227, 229, 231, 234, plate xli. 

Paris, Biblioth^que nationale: ninth- 
century MS. with diagram showing 
relation of human and cosmic phe- 
nomena, plate XIV ; MSS. with figures 
illustrating signs of the Zodiac, 38, 
39, plates xv, xvi ; illustrating the 
anatomy of Henri de Mondeville, 87, 
plate xxvui (a) ; Orders of the King 
of England'shousehold, 13 Henry VIII, 
167, 168 ; Tractatus de Causis et 
Indiciis Morborum, alleged copy, 225 ; 
tracts by Maimonides, 225, 226, 227, 
229, 234. 

Pisa University Library (Roncioni MS.) : 
anatomical drawings, 87 n. 4, 127 
fig. 21. 

Eaudnitz : Library of Count F. Zdenho 
von Lobkowicz, anatomical drawings, 
87 n. 1. 

Record Office, London: Wardrobe Ac- 
counts of Edward in, 170; Account 
Books of Richard II, 170. 

Rome, Vatican Library : Provenpal trans- 
lation of the Cfrande Chirurgie of Guy 
de Chauliac, 83 n., plate xxx (a). 

Westminster, Library of the Roman 
Catholic Cathedral : Manual of Queen 
Mary Tudor, 175, 177-9, plate XL. 

Wiesbaden, Nassauische Landesbiblio- 

Manuscripts {continued) : 

thek : works of St. Hildegard, 6-8, 
9 fig. 2, 12 w., 14, 22, 23, 49, 51, 
54, plates i-iv, xii (a, b), xiii, xix- 


Manuscripts, illuminated, 7, 8, 10-12, 
166, 177-9, plates i-iv, v (6), vi-ix, xi- 


Mappaemundi, 22. 

Marbod of Anjou, 13. 

Marburg : see Conrad of Marburg. 

Marburg, Protestant University of, 221. 

Marsh, Narcissus, Archbishop of Armagh, 

collection of Oriental MSS., 229. 
Martin, W., Miniaturen der lateinischen 

Galenos-Handsckrift der hgl. offentl. 

Bibliothek in Dresden, 88 n. 
Martinotti, G., L'insegnamento delV Ana- 

tomda in Bologna prima del secolo xix, 

92 ra.4, 103 n.2. 
Mary I, Queen, and the blessing of cramp- 
rings, 175, 177; the Queen's Manual, 

with the Office of Blessing, 175, 177-9 ; 

miniature of, 177-9, plate XL. 
Mathematics and scientific proof, 238, 239, 

241, 255, 263, 269. 
Mathews, Norris, Early Printed Books and 

MSS. in the Bristol Reference Library, 

84ra. 1. 
Mayence Commission (1489), 8. 
Mazzatinti, Inventari dei Manoscritti delle 

Biblioteche d' Italia, 103 n. 4. 
Medici, Lorenzo de', 104. 
Medici, Michele, Compendia storico delta 

scuola anatomica di Bologna dal Rinasci- 

mento delle Scienze e delle Lettere a tutto 

il Secolo XYiii, 92 n. 1, 103 «. 2; Delia 

vita e degli scritti degli anatomici e 

medid Jtoriti in Bologna dal comincio 

del secolo xiii, 92 n. 1, 93 n. 1, 

97 n. 1. 
Meiningen, witch-burning at, 208. 
Melancholia, 213, 217, 221. 
' Melothesia ', 38, 39 n., 41 figs. 6, 7, 

plates XV, XVI. 
Messahalah, writings of, 19, 27, 30, 39 n. 3; 

De Orbe, 17, 18, 29. 
Metabolism, 60, 65, 68, 70, 76. 
Methodological assumptions, 266, 267 ; 

fictions, 251. 
Methodus medendi certa clara et brevis, 

44 n. 2. 
Metz, witchcraft at, 215. 
Meyer, L., Die Periode der Hexenprocesse, 

199 w.l. 
Microcosm, mediaeval and Renaissance 

theories of the, 32, 38, •:3 ; Hildegaid's 



views on, 9, 16 n., 18, 19, 20, 30-43; 

drawings, 42 fig. 8, plate viii. 
Migne, Patrologia Latina, 4 n., 6, 13 re. 

Miniatures : miracles at the tomb of 

Edward the Confessor, in Norman- 
French MS., 1 66, plate xxxix ; of Queen 

Mary Tudor, 177-9, plate XL ; of St. 

Hildegard, 7, 8, 10-12, 34, 35, 49, 51, 

plates I, ni, vi-ix, xi. 
Mirandola, Johannes Franciscus Pious, 

Bisputationes adversus astrologos, 98 

and n. 3. 
Molitor, U., Tractaius de lamiis, 222 and 

Monatshsfte der Oomenius-Gesdlscluift, 

189 re. 
Mondeville, Henri de, drawings of dissec- 
tions in works of, 87, plate xxviii (a) ; 

on the anatomy of the eye, 121; writings 

of, 126, 128-9. 
Mondino de Luzzi, professor of surgery at 

Bologna, 79, 82, 85, 86, 89, 90, 93, 94, 

95, 96, 105, 106, Hire., 113, 115, 118, 

126, 130, 136 re. 
Mons, Count William of, 220. 
Mons, witchcraft at, 220. 
Monte Cassino, monastery of, 16, 21, 44. 
Monteferrato, Giorgio di, collection of 

medical tracts by, 89. 
Montpellier, anatomical teaching at, in the 

fourteenth century, 79, 94. See also 

Monuments et Memoires publies par 

VAcademie des Inscriptions et Belles- 

Lettres, 7 re. 1. 
Moses ibn Tibbon, 226 n. 3. 
Muelich, J. A. : see Adelphus, Johannes. 
Muhaddib ed Din Abu'l Hasan Ali ibn 

Ahmad, Delectus de Medicina, 227, 228, 

MuUer, A., 227 re. 4. 
Mtiller, Johannes, on vitalism, 65, 66. 
Musa ibn Maimun, 227, 231, 232, 234. 
Myer, Isaac, Qahbalah: the philosophical 

writings of Solomon ben Yehudah ibn 

Gebirol, 43 re. 1. 

Nahe, river, 2, 3. 

Nardi, Luigi, Chartularium Studii JBono- 

niensis, 98 re. 1. 
Neckam : see Alexander of Neckam. 
Neisse, persecutions for witchcraft at, 

204, 205. 
Nemesius, 51, 113. 
Neoplatonism, 33, 37. 
Neo-vitalism : see Vitalism. 

Newton, Isaac, 253. 

Nicaise, E., La Grande Chirv^gie de Guy 

de Chauliac, 82 re. 1, 121 re. 2. 
Nicholas I, Pope, condemns torture of 

witches, 192. 
Nicodemus, Gospel of, 20. 
NicoU, A., Catalogue of Oriental MSS. in 

the Bodleian Library, 230 re. 2. 
Nixon, J. A., A New Guy de Chauliac 

MS., 84 re. 1. 
Nordenskibld, A. E., Facsimile Atlas till 

Kartografiens dldesta Historia, 99 re. 4. 
Nordlingen, torture of witches at, 213. 
Norfolk, Thomas Howard, eighth Duke of, 

Northamptonshire, Rare and Curious Tracts 

Illustrative of the History of, 195 re. 2. 
Northumberland Household Book, cited, 

Norwich, Registry of Wills, 1 76 re. 5. 
Notes and Queries, 175 re. 3. 

Origen, 222. 

Orioli, Emilio, Chartularium Studii Bono- 

niensis, 98 re. 1. 
Orlandi, P. A., Notizie degli scrittori 

bolognesi, 98 re. 2. 
Osiander, Andrew, 8. 
Oxford, Ashmoleau Museum : drawing of 

dissection scene attributed to Barto- 

lomeo Manfredi, 88, plate xxxvi. See 

also Manuscripts. 

Padua, public anatomies at, in the fifteenth 

century, 79, 81 re., 82. 
Pagel, J. L., Die Anatomie des Heinrich 

von Mondeville, 121 re. 3 ; Die Ghirurgie 

des Heinrich von Mondeville, 129 re. 1 : 

Maimuni als medizinischer Schriftsteller, 

229 re. 1. 
Painters, early Eenaissance, anatomical 

studies of, 86. 
Palladius, Peter, on the treatment of 

witches, 195. 
Papenbroch, Daniel, 8. 
Paracelsus, 32, 42, 43, 61, 214 ; Lahy- 

rinthv^ medicorwm errantium, 42 re. 
Pare, Ambroise, 214. 
Paris, public anatomies at, in the fifteenth 

century. See also Manuscripts. 
Pascal, on principles of conscience, 200. 
Pastor, L., Geschichte des deutschen Volkes, 

190 re. 
Paulicians, the, of Armenia, 192 re. 4. 
Pauline writings, 21. 
Peckham : see John of Peckham. 
Pepys, Samuel, 181. 



Peter of Abano, charge of sorcery against, 

Petrocello, psychological writings of, 114. 

Petrup, Henricus, 44 nn. 2, 3, 114 ra. 1. 

Peyligk, K., anatomical drawings of, 
96 n. 2, 105; Philosophiae naturalis 
compendium, 116 fig. 15, 122 n. 2. 

Philip of Ehrenberg, prince-bishop, witch- 
burning by, 208. 

Philips, Mary, executed for witchcraft, 

Physicians, College of, 173. 

Physiological theories, 59 if. 

Physiologus, 13. 

Piot, Eugfene, Le Cabinet de Vamateur, 
90 n. 1. 

Pisa : see Manuscripts. 

Pitra, Cardinal J. B., 16 w. 3; Analecta 
sacra, 4 w. 4, 5 n. 1, 6, 12 n. 2, 14 n. 3, 
19 n.l, 20n.2, 21 n.l. 

Plague, Manfredi's treatise on the, 101, 

Plato, 245, 255, 256, 259, 270, 288. 

Pliny, 13. 

Pocock, Edward, 230, 231 n. 1 ; editor of 
Bar Hebraeus's works, 228 nn. 4, 5. 

Poincare, M., Science et Methods, 254 n. 1. 

PoUaiuolo, Antonio, anatomical studies of, 

Polydore Vergil and the use of cramp- 
rings, 172, 180. 

Poole, R. Lane, Illustrations of the History 
of Mediaeval Tlwught in the Depart- 
ments of Theology and Ecclesiastical 
Politics, 19 n. 2, 37 n. 4. 

Porphyry, 38. 

Porta, Baptista, 199. 

Portal, A., llistoire de VAnatomie et 
Chirurgie, 81 w. 

Post-mortem examinations in thefourf eenth 
and fifteenth centuries, 81, plates 

Power, Maura, An Irish Astronomical 
Text, 39 n. 3. 

Prague, public anatomies at, in the fifteenth 
century, 79. 

Pratzel, Dr. Veit, burnt for witchcraft, 

Pretorius, Von Zauherei vmd Zauherern, 
203 n. 3. 

Proceedings of the Royal Society of Medi- 
cine, 81 n.\. 

Proceedings of ike Society cf Antiquaries, 

Proof, logical, and scientific discovery, 

Protagoras, 259. 

Psychoids, theory of, 64, 65, 68, 71, 73, 75, 

Psychology, mediaeval, 51. 
'^i^Aim^, 'Almagest, 17, 18; astronomy of, 

264; Manfredi's edition of the Cosmo- 

graphia and Tabulae Cosmographiae, 

Pusey, E. B., Catalogue of Oriental MSS. 

in the Bodleian Library, 230, 231. 

Quaderni d'anatomia, 86 n. 1. 

Eabbinowicz, J. M., Traite des Poisons de 

Maimonide, 226 n. 1. 
Rashdall, Hastings, Universities of Europe 

in the Middle Ages, 97 n.S. 
Eatdolt, Erhard, experiment in colour 

printing by, 90. 
Eaudnitz : see Manuscripts. 
Regimen sanitatis Salerni, 13, 18, 21. 
Reisch, Gregorius, Margarita philosophiae, 

anatomical drawings, 117 fig. 18, 120 

fig. 19, 122 andn. 2. 
Eemy, Nicholas, inquisitor of Lorraine, 

account of witch-trials, 196-8, 200; 

Baemonolatria, 196, 200 n. 1. 
Eenaissance anatomy : see Anatomj'. 
Eenzi, S. de, Collectio Salernitana, 13 ?i. 1, 

18 nn. 1-5, 39 n., 43 n. 2, 44 n. 1, 

114 m. 2. 
Eeuss, F. A., 14 n. 1 ; De Libris physids 

S. Hildegardis ccmm,entatio historico- 

medica, 13 n.S; Der heiligen Uildegard 

Subtililatum ditersarum naturarum 

creaturarum libri novem,, ^-c, ] 3 ?i. 3. 
Revue des questions historiques, 5 n. 3, 

16 n.S, 21 n. 3, 23 n. 5. 
Revue scientifiqu^ pour la France et pour 

VEtrangnr, 92 n. 4. 
Ehazes, 93, 105, 110, 113, 120, 121, lr27, 

182 ; Almansur, 1 1 ra. 2. 
' Eheumatic rings', 182. 
Rhineland, spread of scientific knowledge 

in the, 1 7-20. 
Richard II and the blessing of cramp- 
rings, 170. 
Richard us Anglicus (Richard of Wendover), 

anatomical work hy, 105, 121. 
Rieu, C, Supplement to the Arabic MSS. in 

the British Museum,, 228 n. 1. 
Rivoli, Due de, Bibliographie des livres d, 

figures vinitiens, 90 n.2. 
Robersdorf : see Gertrude of Robersdorf. 
Robertson, J. M., Letters on Reasoning, 

223 m. 2. 
Eome: see Manuscripts. 



Bondelet, William, anatomizes his son, 81m. 

Rose, Valentine, cited, 24 n. 

Roth, F. W. E., account of St. Hildegard, 

5 «. 3 ; Lieder und unbekannte Sprache 

der h. Hildegardis, 5 n. 2. 
Rotterdam, witch-burning at, 219, 220. 
Eoux, Wilhelra, 63. 
Rupert, St., Hildegard's life of, 3, 7. 
Rupertsberg, convent of, 2, 3, 8, 42. 

Sacro Bosco : see Johannes Sacro Bosco. 

St. George's Cross, 178. 

St. Victor : see Hugh of St. Victor. 

St. Vincent of Beauvais, 191. 

Salerno, 13, 18, 43, 44, 45, 93, 114. See 
also Copho and Trotula. 

Saliceto : see William of Saliceto. 

Sandys, J. E., History of Classical Scholar- 
ship, 19 w. 2, 37 »i. 3. 

Santini, U., Cenni statislici sulla Popola- 
zione del Quartiere di S. Proclo in Bo- 
logna, 99 n. 2. 

Saphir ben Levi, Jacob, 226 n.Z. 

Savoy, senate of, witches condemned by, 208. 

Saxinger, J., J7e6er die ErUwickelung des 
medizinischen Unterrichts an der Tilhin- 
ger Hochsehide, 79 n. i, 81 n. 

Schiller, F. C. S. : Scientific Discovery and 
Logical Proof, 235-89 ; Formal Logic, 
236, 246 n. 2, 273 n., 274 n., 279 n., 
285 n. ; Humanism, 274 n.; Studies in 
Humanism, 274 »i. 

Schmelzeis, J. P., Das Lehen und Wirken 
der heiligen Hildegardis, 5 n. 2. 

Schneider, A., Die Psychologie Alberts des 
Grossen, 113 n. 3. 

Schonau : see Elizabeth of Schonau. 

Scientific discovery and logical proof, 

Scot, Reginald, Discovery of Witchcraft, 
214, 223. 

Scribouius, W. A., Professor of Philosophy 
at Marburg, on testing witchcraft by 
water, 207. 

Seeker, Archbishop, 230. 

Seidel, Ernst, Drei weitere anatomische 
Fiinfbilderserien aus Ahendland und 
Morgenland, 44 w. 4, 87 ?i. 1. 

Seneca, 32. 

Serarius, Nicolaus, 8. 

Sermoneta, duca di: see Caetani, Michel- 

Seville, Isidore of : see Isidore Hispalensis. 

Seymour, Edward, Earl of Hertford : see 

Shakespeare's use of the word ' cramp ', 181. 

Shaw, Elinor, executed for witchcraft, 195. 

Sidgwick, Alfred, cited, 247 n., 259. 

Sighinolfi, lAnOjI/Architettura Bentivolesca 
in Bologna e il Palazzo del Podestd,, 
104 n. 

Signorelli, Luca, anatomical studies of, 86. 

Sillib, Professor, 65 w. 

Simpson, Sparrow, 178. 

Singer, Charles: A Study in Early Re- 
naissance Anatomy, with a new text : 
the Anothomia of Hi6ronymo Manfredi 
(1490), 79-164. 

— The Scientific Views and Visions of 
Saint Hildegard, 1-55. 

— Allegorical Rejyresentation of the SyrM- 
gogue, in a Twelfth-century Illuminated 
MS. of Hildegard, 20 n. 2; ThirteerUh- 
omtury Miniature illustrating Medical 
Practice, 81 w. 1 ; The Figures of tite 
Bristol Gfuy de Chauliac MS., 84 n. 1. 

SitzungshericMe der kaiserlichen Akademie 

der Wissenschaften, 12 n. 2. 
Smith, II., titular bishop of Chalcedon, 175. 
Socrates, 259. 
Soklan, W. G., Geschichte der Heaxnjyrocesse, 

191 n. 1, 192 n. 2, 193 n., 203 n. 3, 206 

nn. 1, 2, 208 n. 4. 
Solomon, Wisdom of, 21, 24, 28. 
Sorbelli, Albano, / Primordi della Stampa 

in Bologna, 99 n. 4 ; La Signoria di 

Giovanni Visconti a Bologna, 97 ra. 1 ; 

Le Croniche Bolognesi del Secolo xiv, 

97 n. 1. 
Sorcerers, 192-8, 200, 202, 204-6, 215. 

See also Witchcraft. 
Soul, nature of the, biological definition of, 

59-61 ; Hildegard's views on, 1, 50, 51. 

See also Vitalism. 
Spee, Father, Gautio Griminalis, on trials 

for witchcraft, 204 and n. 2, 207 n. 2, 

221 W.2. 
Spielmann, M. H., 55 n. 
Sponheim, 2, 3. 
Sporley, Richard, monk of Westminster, 

Sprenger, J., Malleus Maleficarum, 194 

and n., 201-3. 
Stahl, George Ernest, 61. 
Starling, Professor E. H., 70. 
Steele, R. R., 55 n. 
Steinschneider, M., Catalogus Librorum 

Hebraeorum in Bibliotheca Bodleiana, 

226 ji. 10, 231 n.2; Die hebraischen 

Uebersetzungen des Mittelalters und die 

Juden als Dolm^tscher, 226 nn. 3, 10 ; 

Gifte und ihre Heilung, eine Abhandlung 

des Moses Mainwnides, 226 ra. 1. 
Strabus, Walafrid, 13. 



Strassburg, witch-burning at, 205. 

Straub, A., edition of Herrade de Lands- 
berg's Hortus deliciarum, 21 w. 4, 40 
fig. 5, 48 fig. 9. 

Studi e Memorie per la Storia deW Univer- 
sitd, di Bologna, 92 n. 4, 103 n. 2. 

Stumpff, F. G. A., Historia nervorum eere- 
bralium ab antiquissimis temjporibus 
usque ad Willisium nee nonVieussennium, 
118 n. 1. 

Sudhoff, Karl, cited, 38 nn. 2, 5, 45 n. 1, 87 
n. 4, 121 n. 1, 127 n. 5 ; Abermals eine 
neue Handschrift der anatomischen 
FimfbUderserie, 44 w. 4 ; Augendurch- 
schnittsbUderausAbendland und Morgen- 
land, 122 n. 1 ; Die kurze ' Vita' void 
das Verzeichnis der Arbeiten GerJiards 
von Cremona, von seinen Schiilem und 
Studiengenossen harz nach dem Tode des 
Meisters (11 87) aw Toledo verabfasst, 17 
n. 2 ; Drei weitere anatomische Fiinf- 
bilderserien aus A bendland und Morgen- 
land, 44 n. 4, 87 Ji. 1 ; Bin Beitrag zur 
GeschicTite der Anatomie im Mittelalter, 
44 n. 4, 87 n.2, 105 n.; Eine Pariser 
' Ketham ' Handschrift aus der Zeit 
Konig Karls VI, 89 »i. 4 ; Ulustrationen 
medizinischer Handschriflen und Friih- 
drucke, 122 n. I ; Neue Beitrdge zur 
Vorgeschichte des Ketliam, 89 ra. 4 ; Tra- 
dition und Naturbeoba^hiung, 44 n. 4, 
90 w. 4 ; Weibliche SitiLsbilder von ca. 
1400-1543, 90 n. 4; Weitere Beitrage 
zur Gesehiclde der Anatomie im Mittel- 
alter, 44 n. 5. 

Sudhoff, Walther, Die Lehre von den Him- 
ventrikdn, 1 1 4 n. 3. 

Suffolk charm against rheumatism, 182. 

Swmtni in omni philosophia viri Constantini 
africani medici operum reliqua, 44 n. 3. 

Syllogism, the, as a form of proof, 238, 
240-50, 253, 288. 

Sylvestris, Bernard, of Tours, 37 n. I ; De 
mundi universitate sive megacosmus et 
microcosmus, 17, 19, 20, 30, 32,36, 38. 

SymholumApostolicorum, 39 n. 1, platexvir. 

Taylor, H. Osborn, The Mediaeval Mind, 

23 nn. 3, 5. 
Techlenburg, Countess Anna of, 221. 
Teleology, 64, 66, 71-3, 75-7, 94, 105. 
Templars, the, charges against, 193, 199. 
TertuUian, 216. 
Theodoric, the monk, life of St. Hildegard 

by, 4, 5, 7, 13, 14, 15»i., 51. 
Theophilus, psychological writings of, 114. 
Thun, in Alsace, witch-burning at, 208. 

Toply, Eobert Ritter von, 92 m. 4 ; Ana- 
tomia Richardi Anglid, 121 n. 1. 

Torre, Marcantonio della, projected ana- 
tomical treatise of, 89. 

Tralles : see Alexander of Tralles. 

Transactions of tlie Seventeenth International 
Congress of Medicine{Sect'XJiai, History 
of Medicine), 27 n. 2, 38 n. 3, 84 n. 1. 

Tredici Foglie della Royal Library di 
Windsor, 86 n. 1. 

Trfeves, witch-burning in the bishopric of, 
194, 197, 198. 

Treviranus, 62, 64. 

Triaire, P., Les lemons danatomie et les 
peintres hollandais aux xvi^ et XVII^ 
siecles, 89 n.l. 

Trinity, Hildegard's vision of the, 54, 
plate XXIII. 

Trithemius, Johannes, abbot of Sponheim, 
8, 42; Chronicon insigne Monasterii 
Hirsaugends, Ordinis St. Benedicti, 15, 
16 m. 1. 

Trotula, medical writings of, 13. 

Tubingen, public anatomies at, in the 
fifteenth century, 79, 81 n. 

Tudela : see Benjamin of Tudela. 

Universe, material structure of the, mediae- 
val views on, 22-30, plates iv, xi. 

Uri, John, Catalogue of Oriental MSS. in 
the Bodleian Library, 227, 230, 231 and 
n. 2. 

Vangesteii, 0. C. L., cited, 86 n.l, 130 

n. 1. 
Varignana, Gulielmo, professor of medicine 

at Bologna, 93 n. 1. 
Venturi, A., Storia dell' arte italiana, 10 

n. 2. 
Vergil, Polydore, 172, 180. 
Verrocchio, Andrea del, anatomical studies 

of, 86 and n. 2. 
Verworn, Max, 68. 
Vesalius, Andreas, 61, 86, 89, 93, 105, 

130 ; De humani corporis fahrica, 92 

n. 2, 121 fig. 20, 122. 
Vigevano, Guido de, anatomical drawings 

in works of, 87, plates xxxi, xxxii. 
ViUanova : see Arnald of Villanova. 
Villiers, J. A. J. de. Famous Maps in the 

British Museum, 99 n. 4. 
Vincent, St., of Beauvais, his treatment of 

a witch, 191. 
Vinci, Leonardo da, anatomical researches 

of, 86, 121, 122, 130; anatomical 

sketches, 89, plates xxxy, xxxviii (6). 
Virchow, Eudolt; cited, 13, 60, 226 n. 



Vinnont, Countess Auna of, 218. 

Vitalism, 59-78; animism, 61, 64, 65; 
biological definitions, 59-61 ; crystals, 
60; differentiation, 62 ; embryo, 62, 63, 
69, 70; 'entelecby', 64, 75 ; germ, 62, 
63, 66, 69, 70, 74; heterogeneity, 77; 
homogeneity, 65, 77; larva, 62, 63, 69 ; 

— fflSfiijaaiima-flnrl mpfibaninaLtheflmg, 64, 


65, 67^70, 74^ ; metabolism, 60, 65, 
68, 70, 76 ; metaphysical theory, 66, 67, 
76 ; mind separate and eternal, 60, 73 ; 

-V-morphaesthetic, 64, 71 ; jieo- vitalism, 
68, 76 ; nutritive soul, the, 59, 60, 73, 
74 ; organic autonomy, 65 ; organism, 
life of the, 59 if. ; perceptive soul, the, 
60, 73, 74 ; philosophical objections, 68, 
71-5; psychoid, 64, 65, 75 : psycho- 

■""dsgicaLtheory, 67^ 68j J6j rational soul, 
the, 60, 61, 67; scientific objections, 
68-71 ; special vital force, theory of, 66. 

Vivo, Catello de. La Visione di Alberico, 
ristamiMta, tradotta e comparata con la 
Divina Gommedia, 21 n.2. 

Waldenses, persecution of, 192. 

Waldsee, witch-burning at, 208. 

Walsh, E. H. C, Tibetan Anatomical, 
System, 44 «. 5. 

Webb, C. C. J., 55 n. 

Welch, Antonius, 197. 

Wendover, Eichard of: see Eichardus 

Wesselich, Philip, of Knechteustein, case 
of witchcraft, 218. 

Westland, A. Mildred, transcription of the 
Anothomia of Hieroiiymo Manfredi, 1 30- 
64 ; translation of selected passages, 

Westminster Abbey, miraculous cures at 
the shrine of Edward the Confessor, 166. 

Weyer, Dr. John, and the witch mania, 
189—224; Be 2>'''^stigiis daemonum, et 
incantationibus ac veneficiis, 215-22. 

Wharton, duct of, 95. 

Wiberg, J., Anatomy of the Brain in the 
Works of Galen and 'Ali 'Abbas, 113 

Wicehus (Weitzel), Georgius, 8. 

Wickersheimer, Ernest, Figv/res medico- 
astrologiqites des ney/ineme, dixieme et 
onzieme siecles, 27 n. 2, SS n. 3 ; La 
Tnedecine astrologique dans les almanacks 
populaires du xx^ siecle, 39 n.2; L' Ana- 
tomic de Guido de Vigevano, medecin de 
la reine Jeanne de Bourgogne, 87 n. 3. 

Wiesbaden : see Manuscripts. 

Wille, Professor, 55 n. 

William of Saliceto, 92, 93, 105. 

Wilson, Eev. H. A., 55 n. 

Winds, relation of, to the elements, 25-7, 

Winternitz, Didtetisches Sendschreiben des 
Maimonides, 226 n. 3. 

Wiseman, Cardinal, 178. 

Witchcraft and witch mania, 189-224 ; 
bewitchment of animals, 193, 197, 218, 
220; burnings for witchcraft, 190, 194, 
196, 197,200,202-8,213,221; children 
tortured and burnt, 200, 201, 208 ; con- 
fessions, 195, 197-200, 204, 205, 207, 
209-13, 219, 220, 223 ; 'delation', 202; 
denunciations, 190, 192, 201, 202, 206, 
209-13; executions, 190, 194, 195,206, 
208 ; informers, 202 ; inquisitions (or 
witch-trials), 192, 196, 197, 201-13; 
nature of the witch mania, 190, 191, 
199, 205 : number of victims, 208 ; 
opposition of Dr. John Weyer to per- 
secution for witchcraft, 189, 200, 207, 
214-24; popular beliefs concerning 
witchcraft and demonology, 190-3, 
195-7, 199, 217; results of scientific 
investigations, 223 ; ' sabbat ', the, 195- 
9; sexual orgies, 190, 193, 196, 198, 
199, 209, 211, 216; torture of victims, 
190, 192, 195, 200, 202-13 ; watertest, 
207, 219; witch-dances, 196,197, 199, 
210, 211, 216, 221 ; witch-hunters, 189, 
192, 196-8, 200, 201, 205-8, 214, 219, 
220; witch-ointments, 199, 216; wit- 
nesses, 202, 205, 209-12. 

Withington, E. T. : Dr. John Weyer and 
the Witch Mania, 189-224. 

Wolsey, Cardinal, 174. 

Worde, Wynkyn de, printer, 85 fig. 4. 

Wrobel, J., cited, 19 n. 2, 37 n. 1, 38 n. 1. 

Wurzburg, witch-burning in the bishopric 
of, 194, 195, 204, 208. 

Wiistenfeld, H. F., Geschichte d. arabisehen 
Aerzte, 227 and n. 1, 228 nn. 3, 5, 229. 

Yorke, Sir Joseph, 230. 
Ypres, John de, quotation from the account 
books of, 170. 

Zeitschrift der Morgenldndischen Gesell- 

schaft, 226 n. 10. 
Zeitschrift fiir Mrchliche Wissenschaft und 

kirchliches Leben, 5 n. 3. 
Zelus Dei, account and illumination of, 54, 

plate XXIV (6). 
Zerbis, de : see G-erbi, Gabriele de.