The Dignity of Man
Man has no fixed place in creation: God made him free to shape himself, to sink to the brutes or rise to the divine.
Legi, Patres colendissimi, in Arabum monumentis, interrogatum Abdalam sarracenum, quid in hac quasi mundana scena admirandum maxime spectaretur, nihil spectari homine admirabilius respondisse. Cui sententiae illud Mercurii adstipulatur: “Magnum, o Asclepi, miraculum est homo”.
I have read, most honored Fathers, in the records of the Arabs, that Abdala the Saracen was asked what he regarded as most to be admired on this stage of the world, so to speak. He replied that nothing more admirable was to be seen than man. With this opinion agrees the saying of Hermes Trismegistus: “Man is a great marvel, Asclepius.”
Horum dictorum rationem cogitanti mihi non satis illa faciebant, quae multa de humanae naturae praestantia afferuntur a multis: esse hominem creaturarum internuntium, superis familiarem, regem inferiorum; sensuum perspicacia, rationis indagine, intelligentiae lumine, naturae interpretem; stabilis evi et fluxi temporis interstitium, et (quod Persae dicunt) mundi copulam, immo hymeneum, ab angelis, teste Davide, paulo deminutum.
As I pondered the reason for these sayings, I was not fully satisfied by the many arguments that many people put forward for the excellence of human nature. They say that man is the go-between among creatures, familiar with the beings above and king of those below. By the keenness of his senses, the searching of his reason and the light of his understanding, he is the interpreter of nature. He is the interval between fixed eternity and flowing time and, as the Persians say, the bond of the world, or rather its wedding. And, as David testifies, he is only a little lower than the angels.
Magna haec quidem, sed non principalia, idest quae summae admirationis privilegium sibi iure vendicent. Cur enim non ipsos angelos et beatissimos caeli choros magis admiremur? Tandem intellexisse mihi sum visus, cur felicissimum proindeque dignum omni admiratione animal sit homo, et quae sit demum illa conditio quam in universi serie sortitus sit, non brutis modo, sed astris, sed ultramundanis mentibus invidiosam. Res supra fidem et mira. Quidni? Nam et propterea magnum miraculum et admirandum profecto animal iure homo et dicitur et existimatur. Sed quae nam ea sit audite, Patres, et benignis auribus pro vestra humanitate hanc mihi operam condonate.
These are great things, to be sure, but not the chief ones, not those that could rightly claim the privilege of the highest admiration. For why should we not admire the angels themselves and the most blessed choirs of heaven even more? At last I felt I had understood why man is the most fortunate of living creatures, and therefore worthy of all admiration. I also understood what, in the end, that condition is which has fallen to his lot in the order of the universe, a condition to be envied not only by the brutes but by the stars, and by the intelligences beyond this world. It is a thing beyond belief, and marvelous. And why not? For it is precisely for this reason that man is rightly called and considered a great marvel, a living creature truly worthy of admiration. But hear what that condition is, Fathers, and in your courtesy grant me this favor with kindly ears.
Iam summus Pater architectus Deus hanc quam videmus mundanam domum, divinitatis templum augustissimum, archanae legibus sapientiae fabrefecerat. Supercelestem regionem mentibus decorarat; ethereos globos aeternis animis vegetarat; excrementarias ac feculentas inferioris mundi partes omnigena animalium turba complerat. Sed, opere consumato, desiderabat artifex esse aliquem qui tanti operis rationem perpenderet, pulchritudinem amaret, magnitudinem admiraretur. Idcirco iam rebus omnibus (ut Moses Timeusque testantur) absolutis, de producendo homine postremo cogitavit. Verum nec erat in archetipis unde novam sobolem effingeret, nec in thesauris quod novo filio hereditarium largiretur, nec in subselliis totius orbis, ubi universi contemplator iste sederet. Iam plena omnia; omnia summis, mediis infimisque ordinibus fuerant distributa.
God the supreme Father, the master builder, had already fashioned this house of the world that we see, the most majestic temple of the godhead, by the laws of his hidden wisdom. He had adorned the region above the heavens with intelligences. He had quickened the ethereal spheres with eternal souls. He had filled the parts of the lower world, mere refuse and dregs, with a throng of living creatures of every kind. But when the work was finished, the craftsman longed for someone to weigh the reason of so great a work, to love its beauty and to admire its greatness. Therefore, when all things were already complete (as Moses and Timaeus testify), he last of all considered bringing forth man. But there was nothing among the archetypes from which to shape a new offspring, nothing in his treasuries to bestow on his new son as an inheritance, and no place among the seats of the whole world where this contemplator of the universe might sit. Everything was now full. All things had been distributed among the highest, the middle and the lowest orders.
Sed non erat paternae potestatis in extrema faetura quasi effeta defecisse; non erat sapientiae, consilii inopia in re necessaria fluctuasse; non erat benefici amoris, ut qui in aliis esset divinam liberalitatem laudaturus in se illam damnare cogeretur.
But it was not worthy of the Father’s power to fail in his last act of begetting, as though past bearing. It was not worthy of his wisdom to waver, for lack of counsel, in a necessary matter. It was not worthy of his beneficent love that the one who was to praise the divine generosity in others should be forced to condemn it in himself.
God’s words to Adam
God sets man at the center of the world with no fixed nature, free to shape himself.
Statuit tandem optimus opifex, ut cui dari nihil proprium poterat commune esset quicquid privatum singulis fuerat. Igitur hominem accepit indiscretae opus imaginis atque in mundi positum meditullio sic est alloquutus: “Nec certam sedem, nec propriam faciem, nec munus ullum peculiare tibi dedimus, o Adam, ut quam sedem, quam faciem, quae munera tute optaveris, ea, pro voto, pro tua sententia, habeas et possideas. Definita caeteris natura intra praescriptas a nobis leges cohercetur. Tu, nullis angustiis cohercitus, pro tuo arbitrio, in cuius manu te posui, tibi illam prefinies. Medium te mundi posui, ut circumspiceres inde comodius quicquid est in mundo. Nec te celestem neque terrenum, neque mortalem neque immortalem fecimus, ut tui ipsius quasi arbitrarius honorariusque plastes et fictor, in quam malueris tute formam effingas.
At last the best of craftsmen decreed that the one to whom nothing of his own could be given should share in whatever had been assigned to each of the others individually. So he took man, a work of indeterminate image, set him at the midpoint of the world, and addressed him thus: “We have given you, Adam, no fixed seat, no form of your own, no function peculiar to you, so that whatever seat, whatever form, whatever functions you yourself choose, these you may have and possess according to your wish and your judgment. The nature of all other beings is defined and confined within laws we have prescribed. You, constrained by no narrow bounds, will determine your nature for yourself, according to your own free will, in whose hand I have placed you. I have set you at the center of the world, so that from there you may more easily look around at whatever is in the world. We have made you neither heavenly nor earthly, neither mortal nor immortal, so that, as the free and honored shaper and molder of yourself, you may fashion yourself in whatever form you prefer.
Poteris in inferiora quae sunt bruta degenerare; poteris in superiora quae sunt divina ex tui animi sententia regenerari”.
You can degenerate into the lower beings, the brutes; you can be reborn, by your soul’s judgment, into the higher, the divine.”
O summam Dei patris liberalitatem, summam et admirandam hominis foelicitatem! Cui datum id habere quod optat, id esse quod velit. Bruta simul atque nascuntur id secum afferunt (ut ait Lucilius) e bulga matris quod possessura sunt. Supremi spiritus aut ab initio aut paulo mox id fuerunt, quod sunt futuri in perpetuas aeternitates. Nascenti homini omnifaria semina et omnigenae vitae germina indidit Pater. Quae quisque excoluerit illa adolescent, et fructus suos ferent in illo. Si vegetalia planta fiet, si sensualia obrutescet, si rationalia caeleste evadet animal, si intellectualia angelus erit et Dei filius. Et si nulla creaturarum sorte contentus in unitatis centrum suae se receperit, unus cum Deo spiritus factus, in solitaria Patris caligine qui est super omnia constitutus omnibus antestabit.
O supreme generosity of God the Father, O supreme and marvelous happiness of man! To him it is granted to have what he chooses, to be what he wills. The brutes, as soon as they are born, bring with them from their mother’s pouch (as Lucilius says) all they will ever possess. The highest spirits were, from the beginning or soon after, what they will be for all eternity. But in man, at his birth, the Father placed seeds of every sort and the sprouts of every kind of life. Whichever of these each person cultivates will grow and bear its fruit in him. If they are vegetative, he will become a plant. If sensual, he will become a brute. If rational, he will turn out a heavenly living creature. If intellectual, he will be an angel and a son of God. And if, content with the lot of no creature, he withdraws into the center of his own unity, he will become one spirit with God, and, in the solitary darkness of the Father, who is set above all things, he will surpass all things.
Quis hunc nostrum chamaeleonta non admiretur? Aut omnino quis aliud quicquam admiretur magis? Quem non immerito Asclepius Atheniensis versipellis huius et se ipsam transformantis naturae argumento per Protheum in mysteriis significari dixit. Hinc illae apud Hebreos et Pythagoricos methamorphoses celebratae.
Who would not admire this chameleon of ours? Or indeed, who would admire anything else more? Not without reason did Asclepius the Athenian say that man, because of this shape-shifting and self-transforming nature, was symbolized in the mysteries by Proteus. Hence those metamorphoses so celebrated among the Hebrews and the Pythagoreans.
Nam et Hebreorum theologia secretior nunc Enoch sanctum in angelum divinitatis, quem vocant malakh hasheckinah nunc in alia alios numina reformant. Et Pythagorici scelestos homines in bruta deformant et, si Empedocli creditur, etiam in plantas. Quos imitatus Maumeth illud frequens habebat in ore, qui a divina lege recesserit brutum evadere, et merito quidem. Neque enim plantam cortex, sed stupida et nihil sentiens natura; neque iumenta corium, sed bruta anima et sensualis; nec caelum orbiculatum corpus, sed recta ratio; nec sequestratio corporis, sed spiritalis intelligentia angelum facit. Si quem enim videris deditum ventri, humi serpentem hominem, frutex est, non homo, quem vides; si quem in fantasiae quasi Calipsus vanis praestigiis cecucientem et subscalpenti delinitum illecebra sensibus mancipatum, brutum est, non homo, quem vides.
For the more secret theology of the Hebrews at times transforms holy Enoch into an angel of the godhead, whom they call malakh hasheckinah [angel of the Divine Presence], and at times transforms others into other divinities. The Pythagoreans deform wicked men into brutes and, if Empedocles is to be believed, even into plants. Imitating them, Muhammad often had this saying on his lips: whoever departs from the divine law becomes a brute. And rightly so. For it is not the bark that makes a plant, but a dull and unfeeling nature; not the hide that makes a beast of burden, but a brutish and sensual soul; not a spherical body that makes the heavens, but right reason; not separation from the body that makes an angel, but spiritual intelligence. If you see someone given over to his belly, crawling on the ground, it is a shrub, not a man, that you see. If you see someone blinded by the empty illusions of fantasy, as if by Calypso’s, softened by its tickling allure and enslaved to the senses, it is a brute, not a man, that you see.
Si recta philosophum ratione omnia discernentem, hunc venereris; caeleste est animal, non terrenum. Si purum contemplatorem corporis nescium, in penetralia mentis relegatum, hic non terrenum, non caeleste animal: hic augustius est numen humana carne circumvestitum.
If you see a philosopher discerning all things by right reason, revere him: he is a heavenly living creature, not an earthly one. If you see a pure contemplator, unaware of the body, withdrawn into the inner sanctum of the mind, he is neither an earthly nor a heavenly living creature. He is a more majestic divinity, clothed in human flesh.
Ecquis hominem non admiretur? Qui non immerito in sacris litteris Mosaicis et Christianis, nunc omnis carnis, nunc omnis creaturae appellatione designatur, quando se ipsum ipse in omnis carnis faciem, in omnis creaturae ingenium effingit, fabricat et transformat. Idcirco scribit Evantes Persa, ubi Chaldaicam theologiam enarrat, non esse homini suam ullam et nativam imaginem, extrarias multas et adventitias. Hinc illud Chaldeorum Enosh hu shinnuim vekammah tebhaoth baal haj idest homo variae ac multiformis et desultoriae naturae animal.
Who would not admire man? Not without reason is he called in the sacred writings of Moses and of the Christians now “all flesh,” now “every creature,” since he molds, fashions and transforms himself into the shape of all flesh and the character of every creature. For this reason Evantes the Persian, where he expounds the Chaldean theology, writes that man has no native image of his own, but many that are foreign and acquired from outside. Hence the saying of the Chaldeans: Enosh hu shinnuim vekammah tebhaoth baal haj, that is, man is a living creature of varied, multiform and ever-changing nature.
The Ladder of Philosophy
Moral philosophy, dialectic, natural philosophy and theology as the rungs of Jacob’s ladder, confirmed by Job, Moses, the Greek mysteries, Pythagoras and the Chaldeans.
Sed quorsum haec? Ut intelligamus, postquam hac nati sumus conditione, ut id simus quod esse volumus, curare hoc potissimum debere nos, ut illud quidem in nos non dicatur, cum in honore essemus non cognovisse similes factos brutis et iumentis insipientibus. Sed illud potius Asaph prophetae: “Dii estis et filii Excelsi omnes”, ne, abutentes indulgentissima Patris liberalitate, quam dedit ille liberam optionem, e salutari noxiam faciamus nobis. Invadat animum sacra quaedam ambitio ut mediocribus non contenti anhelemus ad summa, adque illa (quando possumus si volumus) consequenda totis viribus enitamur. Dedignemur terrestria, caelestia contemnamus, et quicquid mundi est denique posthabentes, ultramundanam curiam eminentissimae divinitati proximam advolemus.
But what is the point of all this? It is that we should understand this: since we have been born with this condition, that we are what we will to be, we ought above all to take care that it may not be said of us, “When they were in honor, they did not know it, and became like the brutes and senseless beasts of burden.” Let us rather live up to the saying of the prophet Asaph: “You are gods, and all of you sons of the Most High.” Otherwise, abusing the most indulgent generosity of the Father, we will turn the free choice he gave us from a saving gift into a harmful one. Let a certain sacred ambition invade our minds, so that, not content with the middling, we pant after the highest things and strive with all our strength to attain them, since we can if we will. Let us disdain earthly things, look down even on heavenly things, and finally, leaving behind whatever belongs to this world, fly up to the court beyond the world, nearest to the most exalted godhead.
Ibi, ut sacra tradunt mysteria, Seraphin, Cherubin et Throni primas possident; horum nos iam cedere nescii et secundarum impatientes et dignitatem et gloriam emulemur. Erimus illis, cum voluerimus, nihilo inferiores.
There, as the sacred mysteries relate, the Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones hold the first places. Let us, who cannot bear to yield to them and will not suffer second place, emulate their dignity and glory. If we will it, we shall be in no way inferior to them.
Living the life of the angels
Burning with love, contemplating and judging, we can equal the Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones.
Sed qua ratione, aut quid tandem agentes? Videamus quid illi agant, quam vivant vitam. Eam si et nos vixerimus (possumus enim) illorum sortem iam equaverimus. Ardet Saraph charitatis igne; fulget Cherub intelligentiae splendore; stat Thronus iudicii firmitate. Igitur si actuosae addicti vitae inferiorum curam recto examine susceperimus, Thronorum stata soliditate firmabimur. Si ab actionibus feriati, in opificio opificem, in opifice opificium meditantes, in contemplandi ocio negociabimur, luce Cherubica undique corruscabimus. Si charitate ipsum opificem solum ardebimus, illius igne, qui edax est, in Saraphicam effigiem repente flammabimur. Super Throno, idest iusto iudice, sedet Deus iudex seculorum. Super Cherub, idest contemplatore, volat atque eum quasi incubando fovet. Spiritus enim Domini fertur super aquas, has, inquam quae super caelos sunt, quae apud Iob Dominum laudant antelucanis hymnis.
But by what means, or by doing what? Let us see what they do, what life they live. If we too live that life (for we can), we shall already have equaled their lot. The Seraph burns with the fire of charity; the Cherub shines with the splendor of intelligence; the Throne stands in the steadfastness of judgment. So if, devoted to the active life, we take on the care of lower things with right discernment, we shall be made firm with the settled solidity of the Thrones. If, at leisure from action, we meditate on the craftsman in his work and on the work in its craftsman, and so are busy in the leisure of contemplation, we shall flash on every side with the light of the Cherubim. If with charity we burn for the craftsman alone, we shall suddenly be set aflame by his devouring fire into the likeness of the Seraphim. Upon the Throne, that is, the just judge, sits God, the judge of the ages. Above the Cherub, that is, the contemplator, he flies, and cherishes him as though brooding over him. For the Spirit of the Lord moves over the waters—those waters, I mean, which are above the heavens, and which in Job praise the Lord with hymns before dawn.
Qui Saraph, idest amator est, in Deo est, et Deus in eo, immo et Deus et ipse unum sunt. Magna Thronorum potestas, quam iudicando; summa Saraphinorum sublimitas, quam amando assequimur.
Whoever is a Seraph, that is, a lover, is in God and God in him; indeed, God and he are one. Great is the power of the Thrones, which we attain by judging; supreme is the loftiness of the Seraphim, which we attain by loving.
Sed quonam pacto vel iudicare quisquam vel amare potest incognita? Amavit Moses Deum quem vidit, et administravit iudex in populo quae vidit prius contemplator in monte. Ergo medius Cherub sua luce et Saraphico igni nos praeparat et ad Thronorum iudicium pariter illuminat. Hic est nodus primarum mentium, ordo Palladicus, philosophiae contemplativae preses; hic nobis et emulandus primo et ambiendus, atque adeo comprehendendus est, unde et ad amoris rapiamur fastigia et ad munera actionum bene instructi paratique descendamus. At vero operae precium, si ad exemplar vitae Cherubicae vita nostra formanda est, quae illa et qualis sit, quae actiones, quae illorum opera, pre oculis et in numerato habere.
But how can anyone judge or love what he does not know? Moses loved the God whom he saw, and as judge he administered among the people what he had first seen as a contemplator on the mountain. So the Cherub, standing in the middle, prepares us by his light for the fire of the Seraphim and likewise illuminates us for the judgment of the Thrones. This is the bond of the first intelligences, the order of Pallas, the guardian of contemplative philosophy. This is the one we must first emulate and court, and then grasp completely, so that from there we may be carried up to the heights of love and come down, well instructed and prepared, to the duties of action. But if our life is to be formed on the model of the Cherubic life, it is well worth our while to have clearly before our eyes what that life is and of what kind, what their actions are, what their works.
Quod cum nobis per nos, qui caro sumus et quae humi sunt sapimus, consequi non liceat, adeamus antiquos patres, qui de his rebus utpote sibi domesticis et cognatis locupletissimam nobis et certam fidem facere possunt. Consulamus Paulum apostolum vas electionis, quid ipse cum ad tertium sublimatus est caelum, agentes Cherubinorum exercitus viderit. Respondebit utique Dyonisio interprete: purgari illos, tum illuminari, postremo perfici.
Since we cannot achieve this by ourselves, who are flesh and savor the things of earth, let us go to the ancient fathers. They can give us the richest and surest testimony about these things, which were familiar and akin to them. Let us ask the apostle Paul, the chosen vessel, what he saw the armies of the Cherubim doing when he was raised to the third heaven. He will answer, with Dionysius as interpreter, that they are purified, then illuminated, and finally perfected.
Ergo et nos Cherubicam in terris vitam emulantes, per moralem scientiam affectuum impetus cohercentes, per dialecticam rationis caliginem discutientes, quasi ignorantiae et vitiorum eluentes sordes animam purgemus, ne aut affectus temere debacchentur aut ratio imprudens quandoque deliret. Tum bene compositam ac expiatam animam naturalis philosophiae lumine perfundamus, ut postremo divinarum rerum eam cognitione perficiamus.
So let us too emulate the Cherubic life on earth. Let us curb the onrush of the passions by moral science, dispel the darkness of reason by dialectic, and so purify the soul, washing away, as it were, the filth of ignorance and vice, so that the passions may not rage recklessly, nor reason, losing its judgment, sometimes rave. Then let us flood the soul, now well ordered and cleansed, with the light of natural philosophy, so that we may at last perfect it with the knowledge of divine things.
Jacob’s ladder
Jacob’s ladder figures the steps of philosophy, from purification by moral philosophy to rest in theology.
Et ne nobis nostri sufficiant consulamus Iacob patriarcham cuius imago in sede gloriae sculpta corruscat. Admonebit nos pater sapientissimus in inferno dormiens, mundo in superno vigilans. Sed admonebit per figuram (ita eis omnia contingebant) esse scalas ab imo solo ad caeli summa protensas multorum graduum serie distinctas; fastigio Dominum insidere, contemplatores angelos per eas vicibus alternantes ascendere et descendere.
And so that we do not rely on our own authorities alone, let us consult the patriarch Jacob, whose image shines carved on the seat of glory. This wisest of fathers, who sleeps in the world below but keeps watch in the world above, will admonish us. But he will admonish us through a figure (for so everything came to them): there is a ladder stretching from the lowest ground to the heights of heaven, divided into a series of many steps; the Lord sits at the top; and contemplating angels go up and down it by turns.
Quod si hoc idem nobis angelicam affectantibus vitam factitandum est, queso, quis Domini scalas vel sordidato pede, vel male mundis manibus attinget? Impuro, ut habent mysteria, purum attingere nephas. Sed qui hi pedes? Quae manus? Profecto pes animae illa est portio despicatissima, qua ipsa materiae tanquam terrae solo innititur, altrix inquam potestas et cibaria, fomes libidinis et voluptariae mollitudinis magistra. Manus animae cur irascentiam non dixerimus, quae appetentiae propugnatrix pro ea decertat et sub pulvere ac sole predatrix rapit, quae illa sub umbra dormitans helluetur? Has manus, hos pedes, idest totam sensualem partem in qua sedet corporis illecebra quae animam obtorto (ut aiunt) detinet collo, ne a scalis tamquam prophani pollutique reiciamur, morali philosophia quasi vivo flumine abluamus.
If we, who aspire to the angelic life, must do the same, who, I ask, will touch the Lord’s ladder with a soiled foot or unclean hands? As the mysteries have it, it is forbidden for the impure to touch the pure. But what are these feet? What are these hands? The foot of the soul is surely that most despicable part by which it rests on matter as on the soil of the earth: I mean the power that nourishes and feeds, the tinder of lust and the teacher of soft pleasure. And why should we not call the hands of the soul its irascible power? It fights as the champion of the appetite, and as a plunderer it seizes, in the dust and the sun, the prey that the appetite will devour as it dozes in the shade. These hands, these feet—that is, the whole sensual part, where the allure of the body resides and holds the soul, as the saying goes, in a stranglehold—let us wash in moral philosophy as in a living stream, so that we may not be thrust back from the ladder as profane and polluted.
At nec satis hoc erit, si per Iacob scalam discursantibus angelis comites esse volumus, nisi et a gradu in gradum rite promoveri, et a scalarum tramite deorbitare nusquam, et reciprocos obire excursus bene apti prius instructique fuerimus. Quod cum per artem sermocinalem sive rationariam erimus consequuti, iam Cherubico spiritu animati, per scalarum, idest naturae gradus philosophantes, a centro ad centrum omnia pervadentes, nunc unum quasi Osyrim in multitudinem vi titanica discerpentes descendemus, nunc multitudinem quasi Osyridis membra in unum vi Phebea colligentes ascendemus, donec in sinu Patris qui super scalas est tandem quiescentes, theologica foelicitate consumabimur.
Yet even this will not be enough, if we wish to be companions of the angels running up and down Jacob’s ladder, unless we have first been well fitted and trained to advance duly from step to step, never to stray from the path of the ladder, and to make the journey back and forth. When we have achieved this through the art of discourse or reasoning, then, animated by the spirit of the Cherubim, philosophizing along the steps of the ladder, that is, of nature, and passing through all things from center to center, we shall at times descend, tearing the one into the many with Titanic force, like Osiris, and at times ascend, gathering the many into the one with the force of Phoebus, like the limbs of Osiris. At last, resting in the bosom of the Father, who is above the ladder, we shall be made perfect in theological happiness.
Percontemur et iustum Iob, qui fedus iniit cum Deo vitae prius quam ipse ederetur in vitam quid summus Deus in decem illis centenis millibus qui assistunt ei, potissimum desideret: pacem utique respondebit, iuxta id quod apud eum legitur: “Qui facit pacem in excelsis”. Et quoniam supremi ordinis monita medius ordo inferioribus interpretatur, interpretetur nobis Iob theologi verba Empedocles philosophus. Hic duplicem naturam in nostris animis sitam, quarum altera sursum tollimur ad celestia, altera deorsum trudimur ad inferna, per litem et amicitiam, sive bellum et pacem, ut sua testantur carmina, nobis significat. In quibus se lite et discordia actum, furenti similem profugum a diis, in altum iactari conqueritur.
Let us also question just Job, who made a covenant with the God of life before he himself was brought forth into life. Let us ask him what the supreme God most desires among those ten hundred thousand who stand before him. He will certainly answer: peace, as we read in his book: “He who makes peace in the high places.” And since the middle order interprets the admonitions of the highest order to the lower ones, let Empedocles the philosopher interpret for us the words of Job the theologian. As his poems testify, he signifies to us a twofold nature set in our souls: by the one we are raised upward to the heavens, by the other we are thrust downward to the lower world, through strife and friendship, or war and peace. In these poems he laments that he is driven by strife and discord like one out of his mind, a fugitive from the gods, tossed about on the deep.
Multiplex profecto, Patres, in nobis discordia; gravia et intestina domi habemus et plusquam civilia bella. Quae si noluerimus, si illam affectaverimus pacem, quae in sublime ita nos tollat ut inter excelsos Domini statuamur, sola in nobis compescet prorsus et sedabit philosophia: moralis primum, si noster homo ab hostibus indutias tantum quesierit, multiplicis bruti effrenes excursiones et leonis iurgia, iras animosque contundet. Tum si rectius consulentes nobis perpetuae pacis securitatem desideraverimus, aderit illa et vota nostra liberaliter implebit, quippe quae cesa utraque bestia, quasi icta porca, inviolabile inter carnem et spiritum foedus sanctissimae pacis sanciet. Sedabit dyalectica rationis turbas inter orationum pugnantias et sillogismo captiones anxie tumultuantis. Sedabit naturalis philosophia opinionis lites et dissidia, quae inquietam hinc inde animam vexant, distrahunt et lacerant.
Many indeed, Fathers, are the discords within us. We have grave wars inside our own house, worse than civil wars. If we wish to be rid of them, if we aspire to that peace which will raise us so high that we are placed among the exalted ones of the Lord, philosophy alone will wholly quell and calm them in us. First moral philosophy: if the man within us seeks only a truce from his enemies, it will crush the unbridled sallies of the many-headed beast and the brawls, rages and passions of the lion. Then, if we take wiser counsel for ourselves and desire the security of lasting peace, it will be at hand and will generously fulfill our wishes: having slain both beasts, like a sow struck down in sacrifice, it will seal an inviolable pact of most holy peace between the flesh and the spirit. Dialectic will calm the disturbances of reason, which is anxiously tossed amid the contradictions of arguments and the snares of syllogisms. Natural philosophy will calm the strife and dissension of opinion that vex, divide and tear the restless soul on every side.
Sed ita sedabit, ut meminisse nos iubeat esse naturam iuxta Heraclytum ex bello genitam, ob id ab Homero contentionem vocitatam. Idcirco in ea veram quietem et solidam pacem se nobis prestare non posse, esse hoc dominae suae, idest sanctissimae theologiae, munus et privilegium. Ad illam ipsa et viam monstrabit et comes ducet, quae procul nos videns properantes: “Venite, inclamabit, ad me qui laborastis; venite et ego reficiam vos; venite ad me et dabo vobis pacem quam mundus et natura vobis dare non possunt”.
But it will calm them in such a way as to bid us remember that nature, according to Heraclitus, is born of war, and for that reason was called “strife” by Homer. Therefore natural philosophy cannot offer us true quiet and solid peace; that is the office and privilege of its mistress, most holy theology. To her it will show us the way and lead us as a companion. And theology, seeing us hastening from afar, will cry out: “Come to me, you who have labored; come, and I will refresh you; come to me, and I will give you the peace that the world and nature cannot give you.”
Tam blande vocati, tam benigniter invitati, alatis pedibus quasi terrestres Mercurii, in beatissimae amplexus matris evolantes, optata pace perfruemur: pace sanctissima, individua copula, unianimi amicitia, qua omnes animi in una mente, quae est super omnem mentem, non concordent adeo, sed ineffabili quodammodo unum penitus evadant. Haec est illa amicitia quam totius philosophiae finem esse Pythagorici dicunt, haec illa pax quam facit Deus in excelsis suis, quam angeli in terram descendentes annuntiarunt hominibus bonae voluntatis, ut per eam ipsi homines ascendentes in caelum angeli fierent.
So sweetly called, so kindly invited, we shall fly up on winged feet, like earthly Mercuries, into the embrace of our most blessed mother, and enjoy the peace we longed for: most holy peace, an indivisible bond, a friendship of one soul, in which all minds do not merely agree in the one mind that is above every mind, but in some ineffable way become wholly one. This is the friendship that the Pythagoreans say is the goal of all philosophy. This is the peace that God makes in his high places, which the angels, descending to earth, announced to men of good will, so that through it men themselves, ascending into heaven, might become angels.
Hanc pacem amicis, hanc nostro optemus seculo, optemus unicuique domui quam ingredimur, optemus animae nostrae, ut per eam ipsa Dei domus fiat; ut, postquam per moralem et dyalecticam suas sordes excusserit, multiplici philosophia quasi aulico apparatu se exornarit, portarum fastigia theologicis sertis coronarit, descendat Rex gloriae et cum Patre veniens mansionem faciat apud eam.
Let us wish this peace for our friends, for our age; let us wish it for every house we enter; let us wish it for our own soul, so that through it the soul itself may become the house of God. Then, once it has shaken off its filth through moral philosophy and dialectic, adorned itself with manifold philosophy as with the splendor of a court, and crowned the tops of its gates with the garlands of theology, the King of glory may descend and, coming with the Father, make his dwelling with it.
Quo tanto hospite si se dignam praestiterit, qua est illius immensa clementia, deaurato vestitu quasi toga nuptiali multiplici scientiarum circumdata varietate, speciosum hospitem, non ut hospitem iam, sed ut sponsum excipiet, a quo ne unquam dissolvatur dissolvi cupiet a populo suo et domum patris sui, immo se ipsam oblita, in se ipsa cupiet mori ut vivat in sponso, in cuius conspectu preciosa profecto mors sanctorum eius, mors, inquam, illa, si dici mors debet plenitudo vitae cuius meditationem esse studium philosophiae dixerunt sapientes.
If the soul shows itself worthy of so great a guest, then, such is his boundless clemency, clothed in golden raiment as in a wedding garment and wrapped in the manifold variety of the sciences, it will receive its beautiful guest no longer as a guest but as a bridegroom. So as never to be parted from him, it will long to be parted from its own people; forgetting its father’s house and even itself, it will long to die in itself so as to live in the bridegroom. In his sight the death of his saints is precious indeed—that death, I mean, if the fullness of life should be called death, whose meditation, the wise have said, is the study of philosophy.
Moses and the tabernacle
Moses’ laws for the tabernacle are read as the stages of moral philosophy, dialectic, natural philosophy and theology.
Citemus et Mosem ipsum a sacrosanctae et ineffabilis intelligentiae fontana plenitudine, unde angeli suo nectare inebriantur, paulo deminutum. Audiemus venerandum iudicem nobis in deserta huius corporis solitudine habitantibus leges sic edicentem: “Qui polluti adhuc morali indigent, cum plebe habitent extra tabernaculum sub divo, quasi Thessali sacerdotes interim se expiantes. Qui mores iam composuerunt, in sanctuarium recepti, nondum quidem sacra attractent, sed prius dyaletico famulatu seduli levitae philosophiae sacris ministrent. Tum ad ea et ipsi admissi, nunc superioris Dei regiae multicolorem, idest sydereum aulicum ornatum, nunc caeleste candelabrum septem luminibus distinctum, nunc pellicea elementa, in philosophiae sacerdotio contemplentur, ut postremo per theologicae sublimitatis merita in templi adita recepti, nullo imaginis intercedente velo, divinitatis gloria perfruantur”.
Let us also summon Moses himself, only a little below the overflowing fountain of the sacrosanct and ineffable intelligence, whose nectar makes the angels drunk. We shall hear the venerable judge proclaim these laws to us, who dwell in the desert solitude of this body: “Let those who are still polluted and in need of moral philosophy live with the common people outside the tabernacle, under the open sky, purifying themselves meanwhile like the Thessalian priests. Let those who have already set their conduct in order be received into the sanctuary, but let them not yet handle the sacred things; first let them serve the rites as zealous Levites of philosophy, in the service of dialectic. Then, admitted to the rites themselves, let them contemplate, in the priesthood of philosophy, now the many-colored robe of the palace of God on high, that is, the starry adornment of his court, now the heavenly candlestick with its seven lights, now the elements in their coverings of skin. So at last, received through the merits of theology’s sublimity into the inner sanctuary of the temple, with no veil of image between, let them enjoy the glory of the godhead.”
Haec nobis profecto Moses et imperat et imperando admonet, excitat, inhortatur, ut per philosophiam ad futuram caelestem gloriam, dum possumus iter paremus nobis.
This, surely, is what Moses commands us, and in commanding, admonishes, rouses and urges us: that while we can, we should prepare our way through philosophy to the heavenly glory to come.
Verum enimvero, nec Mosayca tantum aut Christiana mysteria, sed priscorum quoque theologia harum, de quibus disputaturus accessi, liberalium artium et emolumenta nobis et dignitatem ostendit. Quid enim aliud sibi volunt in Graecorum archanis observati initiatorum gradus, quibus primo per illas quas diximus quasi februales artes, moralem et dialeticam, purificatis, contingebat mysteriorum susceptio? Quae quid aliud esse potest quam secretioris per philosophiam naturae interpretatio? Tum demum ita dispositis illa adveniebat epopteia, idest rerum divinarum per theologiae lumen inspectio. Quis talibus sacris initiari non appetat? Quis humana omnia posthabens, fortunae contemnens bona, corporis negligens, deorum conviva adhuc degens in terris fieri non cupiat, et aeternitatis nectare madidus mortale animal immortalitatis munere donari?
But it is not only the Mosaic or Christian mysteries: the ancient theology too shows us the benefits and the dignity of these liberal arts about which I have come to dispute. For what else is meant by the grades of initiates observed in the secret rites of the Greeks? The initiates were first purified by those arts we have called purgative, as it were, moral philosophy and dialectic; then they received the mysteries. And what else can that be but the interpretation of nature’s hidden things through philosophy? Then at last, to those so prepared, came the epopteia, that is, the beholding of divine things through the light of theology. Who would not long to be initiated into such rites? Who would not long, setting all human things aside, scorning the goods of fortune and neglecting those of the body, to become a guest at the table of the gods while still living on earth, and, drenched in the nectar of eternity, to receive, though a mortal living creature, the gift of immortality?
Quis non Socraticis illis furoribus, a Platone in Fedro decantatis, sic afflari non velit ut alarum pedumque remigio hinc, idest ex mundo, qui est positus in maligno, propere aufugiens, ad caelestem Hierusalem concitatissimo cursu feratur? Agemur, Patres, agemur Socraticis furoribus, qui extra mentem ita nos ponant, ut mentem nostram et nos ponant in Deo. Agemur ab illis utique, si quid est in nobis ipsi prius egerimus; nam si et per moralem affectuum vires ita per debitas competentias ad modulos fuerint intentae, ut immota invicem consonent concinentia, et per dyalecticam ratio ad numerum se progrediendo moverit, Musarum perciti furore celestem armoniam intimis auribus combibemus.
Who would not wish to be so inspired by those Socratic frenzies sung by Plato in the Phaedrus that, fleeing swiftly from here—that is, from the world, which is set in wickedness—with wings and feet for oars, he might be carried at the swiftest pace to the heavenly Jerusalem? Let us be driven, Fathers, let us be driven by the Socratic frenzies, which will put us so far outside our mind as to put our mind, and ourselves, in God. We shall indeed be driven by them, if we have first done what lies in our own power. For if, through moral philosophy, the powers of the passions have been tuned in due proportion to their measures, so that they sound together in unshaken concord, and if, through dialectic, reason has moved forward in rhythm, then, stirred by the frenzy of the Muses, we shall drink in the heavenly harmony with our inward ears.
Tum Musarum dux Bacchus in suis mysteriis, idest visibilibus naturae signis invisibilia Dei philosophantibus nobis ostendens, inebriabit nos ab ubertate domus Dei, in qua tota si uti Moses erimus fideles, accedens sacratissima theologia duplici furore nos animabit. Nam in illius eminentissimam sublimati speculam, inde et quae sunt, quae erunt quaeque fuerint insectili metientes evo, et primevam pulchritudinem suspicientes, illorum Phebei vates, huius alati erimus amatores et ineffabili demum charitate, quasi aestro perciti, quasi Saraphini ardentes extra nos positi, numine pleni, iam non ipsi nos, sed ille erimus ipse qui fecit nos.
Then Bacchus, leader of the Muses, showing us as we philosophize the invisible things of God in his mysteries, that is, in the visible signs of nature, will make us drunk with the abundance of the house of God. And if, like Moses, we are faithful in all that house, most sacred theology will come and animate us with a twofold frenzy. For, raised to her most exalted watchtower, we shall measure from there, with indivisible eternity, what is, what will be and what has been, and gaze up at the primal beauty; of the one we shall be seers of Phoebus, of the other winged lovers. And finally, stirred by ineffable charity as by a gadfly, set outside ourselves like burning Seraphim and filled with the godhead, we shall no longer be ourselves, but he himself who made us.
Apollo and Pythagoras
The Delphic maxims and the riddling precepts of Pythagoras teach the same threefold philosophy.
Sacra Apollinis nomina, si quis eorum significantias et latitantia perscrutetur misteria, satis ostendunt esse Deum illum non minus philosophum quam vatem. Quod cum Ammonius satis sit exequutus, non est cur ego nunc aliter pertractem; sed subeant animum, Patres, tria Delphica precepta oppido his necessaria, qui non ficti sed veri Apollinis, qui illuminat omnem animam venientem in hunc mundum, sacrosanctum et augustissimum templum ingressuri sunt; videbitis nihil aliud illa nos admonere, quam ut tripartitam hanc, de qua est presens disputatio, philosophiam totis viribus amplectamur. Illud enim meden agan, idest nequid nimis, virtutum omnium normam et regulam per mediocritatis rationem, de qua moralis agit, recte praescribit.
The sacred names of Apollo, if one examines their meanings and hidden mysteries, show clearly enough that that god is no less a philosopher than a seer. Since Ammonius has treated this sufficiently, there is no reason for me to handle it differently now. But call to mind, Fathers, the three Delphic precepts, which are most necessary for those about to enter the sacrosanct and most majestic temple not of a fictitious but of the true Apollo, who enlightens every soul coming into this world. You will see that they urge us to nothing other than to embrace with all our strength this threefold philosophy, which is the subject of the present disputation. For that meden agan, that is, “nothing too much,” rightly prescribes the norm and rule of all the virtues through the principle of the mean, which is the subject of moral philosophy.
Tum illud gnothi seauton, idest cognosce te ipsum, ad totius naturae nos cognitionem, cuius et interstitium et quasi cynnus natura est hominis, excitat et inhortatur. Qui enim se cognoscit, in se omnia cognoscit, ut Zoroaster prius, deinde Plato in Alcibiade scripserunt. Postremo hac cognitione per naturalem philosophiam illuminati iam Deo proximi, ei, idest es dicentes, theologica salutatione verum Apollinem familiariter proindeque foeliciter appellabimus.
Then that gnothi seauton, that is, “know yourself,” rouses and urges us to the knowledge of the whole of nature, of which the nature of man is both the interval and, as it were, the blend. For whoever knows himself knows all things in himself, as Zoroaster first wrote, and then Plato in the Alcibiades. Finally, illuminated by this knowledge through natural philosophy and now close to God, we shall address the true Apollo familiarly, and therefore happily, with the theological greeting ei, that is, “you are.”
Consulamus et Pythagoram sapientissimum, ob id praecipue sapientem, quod sapientis se dignum nomine nunquam existimavit. Precipiet primo ne super modium sedeamus, idest rationalem partem, qua anima omnia metitur, iudicat et examinat, ociosa desidia ne remitentes amittamus, sed dyaletica exercitatione ac regula et dirigamus assidue et excitemus. Tum cavenda in primis duo nobis significabit ne, aut adversus solem emingamus, aut inter sacrificandum ungues resecemus. Sed postquam per moralem et superfluentium voluptatum fluxas eminxerimus appetentias, et unguium presegmina, quasi acutas irae prominentias et animorum aculeos resecuerimus, tum demum sacris, idest de quibus mentionem fecimus Bacchi mysteriis, interesse, et cuius pater ac dux merito sol dicitur nostrae contemplationi vacare incipiamus.
Let us consult Pythagoras too, the wisest of men, wise above all because he never thought himself worthy of the name of wise man. First he will command us not to sit on the bushel: that is, not to lose through idle sloth the rational part, by which the soul measures, judges and examines all things, but to direct and rouse it constantly by the exercise and rule of dialectic. Then he will point out two things we must above all avoid: making water facing the sun, and cutting our nails during a sacrifice. But when, through moral philosophy, we have voided the loose appetites of overflowing pleasures, and pared away, like nail clippings, the sharp points of anger and the stings of the passions, then at last let us begin to take part in the sacred rites, that is, the mysteries of Bacchus we have mentioned, and to devote ourselves to contemplation, whose father and leader the sun is rightly said to be.
Postremo ut gallum nutriamus nos admonebit, idest ut divinam animae nostrae partem divinarum rerum cognitione quasi solido cibo et caelesti ambrosia pascamus. Hic est gallus cuius aspectum leo, idest omnis terrena potestas formidat et reveretur. Hic ille gallus, cui datam esse intelligentiam apud Iob legimus. Hoc gallo canente aberrans homo resipiscit. Hic gallus in matutino crepusculo, matutinis astris Deum laudantibus, quotidie commodulatur. Hunc gallum moriens Socrates, cum divinitatem animi sui divinitati maioris mundi copulaturum se speraret, Sculapio, idest animarum medico, iam extra omne morbi discrimen positus, debere se dixit.
Finally, he will admonish us to feed the cock: that is, to nourish the divine part of our soul with the knowledge of divine things, as with solid food and heavenly ambrosia. This is the cock whose sight the lion, that is, every earthly power, fears and reveres. This is the cock to whom, as we read in Job, understanding was given. When this cock crows, the man who has gone astray comes to his senses. This cock, in the twilight of morning, joins every day in harmony with the morning stars as they praise God. This is the cock that Socrates, as he was dying, hoping to join the divinity of his mind to the divinity of the greater world and already beyond all danger of sickness, said he owed to Asclepius, that is, to the physician of souls.
Zoroaster and the rivers of paradise
Zoroaster’s winged soul and the four rivers of paradise point again to the same path.
Recenseamus et Chaldeorum monumenta, videbimus (si illis creditur) per easdem artes patere viam mortalibus ad felicitatem. Scribunt interpretes Chaldei verbum fuisse Zoroastris alatam esse animam, cumque alae exciderent ferri illam praeceps in corpus, tum illis subcrescentibus ad superos revolare. Percunctantibus eum discipulis quo pacto alis bene plumantibus volucres animos sortirentur: “Irrigetis, dixit, alas aquis vitae”. Iterum sciscitantibus unde has aquas peterent, sic per parabolam (qui erat hominis mos) illis respondit: “Quatuor amnibus paradisus Dei abluitur et irrigatur. Indidem vobis salutares aquas hauriatis. Nomen ei qui ab aquilone Pischon, quod rectum denotat, ei qui ab occasu Gichon, quod expiationem significat, ei qui ab ortu Chiddekel, quod lumen sonat, ei qui a meridie Perath, quod nos pietatem interpretari possumus”.
Let us also review the records of the Chaldeans: we shall see (if they are to be believed) that the way to happiness lies open to mortals through these same arts. The Chaldean interpreters write that it was a saying of Zoroaster that the soul is winged; when its wings fall away, it plunges headlong into the body, and when they grow again, it flies back to the heavens. When his disciples asked him how they might obtain souls able to fly, with well-feathered wings, he said: “Water your wings with the waters of life.” When they asked again where they should seek these waters, he answered them with a parable, as was his custom: “The paradise of God is washed and watered by four rivers. From there draw your saving waters. The name of the one from the north is Pischon, which means ‘the right’; of the one from the west, Gichon, which signifies ‘expiation’; of the one from the east, Chiddekel, which means ‘light’; of the one from the south, Perath, which we may interpret as ‘piety.’”
Advertite animum et diligenter considerate, Patres, quid haec sibi velint Zoroastris dogmata: profecto nihil aliud nisi ut morali scientia, quasi undis Hibericis, oculorum sordes expiemus; dialetica, quasi boreali amussi, illorum aciem lineemus ad rectum. Tum in naturali contemplatione debile adhuc veritatis lumen, quasi nascentis solis incunabula, pati assuescamus, ut tandem per theologicam pietatem et sacratissimum Dei cultum, quasi caelestes aquilae, meridiantis solis fulgidissimum iubar fortiter perferamus. Hae illae forsan et a Davide decantatae primum, et ab Augustino explicatae latius, matutinae, meridianae et vespertinae cognitiones. Haec est illa lux meridialis, quae Saraphinos ad lineam inflammat et Cherubinos pariter illuminat. Haec illa regio, quam versus semper antiquus pater Abraam proficiscebatur. Hic ille locus, ubi immundis spiritibus locum non esse et Cabalistarum et Maurorum dogmata tradiderunt.
Pay attention, Fathers, and consider carefully what these doctrines of Zoroaster mean. Surely nothing else than this: that we should wash the filth from our eyes with moral science, as with the waves of Iberia; that with dialectic, as with a northern rule, we should draw their sight straight; that then, in the contemplation of nature, we should grow used to bearing the still feeble light of truth, like the cradle of the rising sun; so that at last, through theological piety and the most sacred worship of God, we may, like heavenly eagles, bravely endure the dazzling radiance of the midday sun. These perhaps are the morning, midday and evening knowledges first sung by David and later explained more fully by Augustine. This is the noonday light that sets the Seraphim precisely aflame and likewise illuminates the Cherubim. This is the region toward which the ancient father Abraham was always journeying. This is the place where, as the doctrines of both the Kabbalists and the Moors have taught, there is no place for unclean spirits.
Et si secretiorum aliquid misteriorum fas est vel sub enigmate in publicum proferre, postquam et repens e caelo casus nostri hominis caput vertigine damnavit et iuxta Hieremiam, ingressa per fenestras mors iecur pectusque male affecit, Raphaelem coelestem medicum advocemus, qui nos morali et dialetica uti pharmacis salutaribus liberet. Tum ad valitudinem bonam restitutos, iam Dei robur Gabriel inhabitabit, qui nos per naturae ducens miracula, ubique Dei virtutem potestatemque indicans, tandem sacerdoti summo Michaeli nos tradet qui, sub stipendiis philosophiae emeritos, theologiae sacerdotio quasi corona preciosi lapidis insignet.
And if it is permitted to bring even a little of the more secret mysteries into public, though under a riddle: since the sudden fall from heaven has condemned the head of our man to dizziness, and, as Jeremiah says, death has come in through the windows and afflicted the liver and breast, let us summon Raphael, the heavenly physician, to set us free with the saving medicines of moral philosophy and dialectic. Then, when we are restored to good health, Gabriel, the strength of God, will dwell in us. He will lead us through the marvels of nature, showing us everywhere the virtue and power of God, and at last hand us over to Michael, the high priest. And Michael, once we have served out our term in the campaigns of philosophy, will decorate us with the priesthood of theology as with a crown of precious stone.
Philosophy despised
Pico complains that his age scorns philosophy unless it brings profit, and says he studies it for itself.
Haec sunt, Patres colendissimi, quae me ad philosophiae studium non animarunt modo sed compulerunt. Quae dicturus certe non eram, nisi his responderem qui philosophiae studium in principibus praesertim viris, aut his omnino qui mediocri fortuna vivunt, damnare solent. Est enim iam hoc totum philosophari (quae est nostrae etatis infoelicitas) in contemptum potius et contumeliam, quam in honorem et gloriam. Ita invasit fere omnium mentes exitialis haec et monstrosa persuasio, aut nihil aut paucis philosophandum. Quasi rerum causas, naturae vias, universi rationem, Dei consilia, caelorum, terraeque mysteria, pre oculis, pre manibus exploratissima habere nihil sit prorsus, nisi vel gratiam inde aucupari aliquam, vel lucrum sibi quis comparare possit. Quin eo deventum est ut iam (proh dolor!)
These, most honored Fathers, are the things that have not only encouraged but compelled me to the study of philosophy. I certainly would not have spoken of them if I were not answering those who habitually condemn the study of philosophy, especially in men of rank, or indeed in anyone of modest means. For all this philosophizing—such is the misfortune of our age—now leads to contempt and insult rather than honor and glory. This deadly and monstrous conviction has invaded almost everyone’s mind: that no one, or only a few, should philosophize. As if it were nothing at all to have before our eyes and in our hands, thoroughly explored, the causes of things, the ways of nature, the plan of the universe, the counsels of God, the mysteries of heaven and earth—unless one could thereby win some favor or make some profit. Indeed, it has come to this—alas!—that
non existimentur sapientes nisi qui mercennarium faciunt studium sapientiae, ut sit videre pudicam Palladem, deorum munere inter homines diversantem, eiici, explodi, exsibilari, non habere qui amet, qui faveat, nisi ipsa, quasi prostans et praefloratae virginitatis accepta mercedula, male paratum aes in amatoris arculam referat.
no one is thought wise except those who make the pursuit of wisdom a paid trade. So one may see chaste Pallas, who dwells among men as a gift of the gods, cast out, hooted off, hissed away, with no one to love or favor her—unless, as if selling herself and taking a paltry fee for her lost virginity, she brings the ill-gotten money back to her lover’s strongbox.
In Defense of the Disputation
Pico answers those who attack public debate, his youth and the number of his theses, and argues for learning from every school.
Quae omnia ego non sine summo dolore et indignatione in huius temporis, non principes, sed philosophos dico, qui ideo non esse philosophandum et credunt et praedicant, quod philosophis nulla merces, nulla sint praemia constituta, quasi non ostendant ipsi, hoc uno nomine, se non esse philosophos. Quod cum tota eorum vita sit vel in questu, vel in ambitione posita, ipsam per se veritatis cognitionem non amplectuntur. Dabo hoc mihi, et me ipsum hac ex parte laudare nihil erubescam, me numquam alia de causa philosophatum nisi ut philosopharer, nec ex studiis meis, ex meis lucubrationibus, mercedem ullam aut fructum vel sperasse alium vel quesiisse, quam animi cultum et a me semper plurimum desideratae veritatis cognitionem.
All this I say with the deepest grief and indignation, not against the princes of this age but against its philosophers. They believe and proclaim that one should not philosophize because no reward, no prizes are set for philosophers—as if by this one fact they did not show that they are not philosophers. Since their whole life is set on gain or ambition, they do not embrace the knowledge of truth for its own sake. I will grant myself this, and will not blush to praise myself on this point: I have never philosophized for any other reason than to philosophize. From my studies and my nights of labor I have neither hoped for nor sought any reward or fruit other than the cultivation of my mind and the knowledge of the truth, which I have always desired above all.
Cuius ita cupidus semper et amantissimus fui ut, relicta omni privatarum et publicarum rerum cura, contemplandi ocio totum me tradiderim; a quo nullae invidorum obtrectationes, nulla hostium sapientiae maledicta, vel potuerunt ante hac, vel in posterum me deterrere poterunt. Docuit me ipsa philosophia a propria potius conscientia quam ab externis pendere iuditiis, cogitareque semper, non tam ne male audiam, quam ne quid male vel dicam ipse vel agam.
I have always been so eager for truth and so in love with it that I have laid aside all care for private and public affairs and given myself wholly to the leisure of contemplation. From it no disparagement by the envious, no curses of the enemies of wisdom, have been able to deter me until now, nor will they be able to in the future. Philosophy herself has taught me to depend on my own conscience rather than on the judgments of others, and always to take care not so much that no ill is spoken of me as that I myself speak or do no ill.
Equidem non eram nescius, Patres colendissimi, futuram hanc ipsam meam disputationem quam vobis omnibus qui bonis artibus favetis et augustissima vestra praesentia illam honestare voluistis, gratam atque iocundam, tam multis aliis gravem atque molestam; et scio non deesse qui inceptum meum et damnarint ante hac et in praesentia multis nominibus damnent. Ita consueverunt non pauciores, ne dicam plures, habere oblatratores quae bene sancteque aguntur ad virtutem, quam quae inique et perperam ad vitium. Sunt autem qui totum hoc disputandi genus et hanc de litteris publice disceptandi institutionem non approbent, ad pompam potius ingenii et doctrinae, ostentationem quam ad comparandam eruditionem esse illam asseverantes.
I was not unaware, most honored Fathers, that this very disputation of mine would be welcome and pleasant to all of you who favor good learning and have wished to honor it with your most majestic presence, but burdensome and annoying to many others. And I know there are people who have condemned my undertaking before now, and condemn it at present on many grounds. So it usually goes: things done well and in holiness for the sake of virtue have no fewer detractors barking at them—not to say more—than things done wickedly and wrongly for the sake of vice. There are some who do not approve of this whole kind of disputation, or of this practice of debating learned matters in public. They assert that it serves to show off talent and learning rather than to acquire erudition.
Sunt qui hoc quidem exercitationis genus non improbent, sed in me nullo modo probent, quod ego hac aetate, quartum scilicet et vigesimum modo natus annum, de sublimibus Christianae theologiae mysteriis, de altissimis philosophiae locis, de incognitis disciplinis, in celebratissima urbe, in amplissimo doctissimorum hominum consessu, in apostolico senatu, disputationem proponere sim ausus. Alii, hoc mihi dantes quod disputem, id dare nolunt quod de nongentis disputem questionibus, tam superfluo et ambitiose quam supra vires id factum calumniantes. Horum ego obiectamentis et manus illico dedissem, si ita quam profiteor philosophia me edocuisset et nunc, illa ita me docente, non responderem, si rixandi iurgandique proposito constitutam hanc inter nos disceptationem crederem.
There are others who do not disapprove of this kind of exercise, but in no way approve of it in me. At my age—I am only in my twenty-fourth year—I have dared to propose a disputation on the sublime mysteries of Christian theology, on the loftiest topics of philosophy, on unknown disciplines, in the most celebrated of cities, before a vast assembly of the most learned men, in the apostolic senate. Still others grant me the right to dispute, but will not grant that I dispute on nine hundred questions, slandering it as a thing done superfluously and ambitiously, and beyond my powers. I would have surrendered at once to their objections, had the philosophy I profess so taught me. And even now, with philosophy teaching me as it does, I would not answer them, if I believed this debate between us had been arranged for the purpose of quarreling and wrangling.
Quare, obtrectandi omne lacessendique propositum, et quem scribit Plato a divino semper abesse choro, a nostris quoque mentibus facessat livor, et an disputandum a me, an de tot etiam questionibus, amice incognoscamus.
So let every intention to disparage and provoke depart from our minds, and with it envy, which, as Plato writes, is always absent from the divine choir; and let us inquire in friendship whether I should dispute, and whether on so many questions as well.
In defense of public debate
Disputation strengthens the mind, as the practice of Plato, Aristotle and the Fathers themselves shows.
Primum quidem ad eos, qui hunc publice disputandi morem calumniantur, multa non sum dicturus, quando haec culpa, si culpa censetur, non solum vobis omnibus, doctores excellentissimi, qui sepius hoc munere, non sine summa et laude et gloria, functi estis, sed Platoni, sed Aristoteli, sed probatissimis omnium etatum philosophis mecum est communis. Quibus erat certissimum nihil ad consequendam quam querebant veritatis cognitionem sibi esse, potius quam ut essent in disputandi exercitatione frequentissimi. Sicut enim per gymnasticam corporis vires firmiores fiunt, ita dubio procul, in hac quasi litteraria palestra, animi vires et fortiores longe et vegetiores evadunt.
First, I will not say much to those who slander this custom of public disputation. For this fault, if it is judged a fault, I share not only with all of you, most excellent doctors, who have often performed this office, not without the highest praise and glory, but with Plato, with Aristotle, and with the most esteemed philosophers of every age. They were quite certain that nothing served them better for attaining the knowledge of truth they sought than to engage in the exercise of disputation as often as possible. For just as the strength of the body grows firmer through gymnastics, so without doubt, in this literary wrestling ground, the strength of the mind becomes far stronger and more vigorous.
Nec crediderim ego aut poetas aliud per decantata Palladis arma, aut Hebreos, cum barzel, ferrum, sapientum symbolum esse dicunt, significasse nobis quam honestissima hoc genus certamina, adipiscendae sapientiae oppido quam necessaria. Quo forte fit ut et Caldei in eius genesi qui philosophus sit futurus, illud desiderent, ut Mars et Mercurium triquetro aspectu conspiciat, quasi, si hos congressus, haec bella substuleris, somniculosa et dormitans futura sit omnis philosophia.
Nor would I believe that the poets, by the celebrated arms of Pallas, or the Hebrews, when they say that barzel, iron, is the symbol of the wise, meant anything other than that such contests, most honorable as they are, are utterly necessary for gaining wisdom. Perhaps this is why the Chaldeans too, in the horoscope of one who is to be a philosopher, require that Mars look upon Mercury in trine aspect—as if, should you take away these encounters, these wars, all philosophy would grow drowsy and fall asleep.
At vero cum his qui me huic provintiae imparem dicunt, difficilior est mihi ratio defensionis: nam si parem me dixero, forsitan inmodesti et de se nimia sentientis, si imparem fatebor, temerarii et inconsulti notam videor subiturus. Videte quas incidi angustias, quo loco sim constitutus, dum non possum sine culpa de me promittere quod non possum mox sine culpa non praestare. Forte et illud Iob afferre possem spiritum esse, spiritum esse in omnibus, et cum Timotheo audire: “Nemo contemnat adolescientiam tuam”. Sed ex mea verius hoc conscientia dixero, nihil esse in nobis magnum vel singulare; studiosum me forte et cupidum bonarum artium non inficiatus, docti tamen nomen mihi nec sumo nec arrogo.
But with those who say I am unequal to this task, my defense is more difficult. If I say I am equal to it, I shall seem to incur the charge of immodesty and conceit; if I admit I am unequal, the charge of rashness and imprudence. See what straits I have fallen into, what a position I am in: I cannot without blame promise of myself what, soon after, I cannot without blame fail to deliver. Perhaps I could cite that saying of Job, that there is a spirit, a spirit in all men, and hear with Timothy: “Let no one despise your youth.” But I would say this more truly from my own conscience: there is nothing great or singular in me. I will not deny that I am perhaps studious and eager for good learning, but I neither take nor claim the name of a learned man.
Quare et quod tam grande humeris onus imposuerim, non fuit propterea quod mihi conscius nostrae infirmitatis non essem, sed quod sciebam hoc genus pugnis, idest litterariis, esse peculiare quod in eis lucrum est vinci. Quo fit ut imbecillissimus quisque non detrectare modo, sed appetere ultro eas iure possit et debeat. Quandoquidem qui succumbit beneficium a victore accipit, non iniuriam, quippe qui per eum et locupletior domum, idest doctior et ad futuras pugnas redit instructior. Hac spe animatus, ego infirmus miles cum fortissimis omnium strenuissimisque tam gravem pugnam decernere nihil sum veritus. Quod tamen temere sit factum nec ne, rectius utique de eventu pugnae quam de nostra aetate potest quis iudicare.
So I placed so great a burden on my shoulders, not because I was unaware of my weakness, but because I knew that this kind of battle, the literary kind, has this peculiarity: in it, to be defeated is a gain. Thus even the weakest of men may rightly, and should, not only not shun such battles but actually seek them out. For whoever is defeated receives from the victor a benefit, not an injury, since through him he goes home richer, that is, more learned, and better equipped for future battles. Encouraged by this hope, I, a weak soldier, have not been afraid to fight so serious a battle with the bravest and most vigorous of all. Whether this was done rashly or not, anyone can more rightly judge from the outcome of the battle than from my age.
Why so many theses
Pico defends the number of his theses: he draws on every school, since each has something of its own.
Restat ut tertio loco his respondeam, qui numerosa propositarum rerum multitudine offenduntur, quasi hoc eorum humeris sederet onus, et non potius hic mihi soli quantuscumque est labor, esset exanclandus. Indecens profecto hoc et morosum nimis, velle alienae industriae modum ponere, et, ut inquit Cicero in ea re quae eo melior quo maior, mediocritatem desiderare. Omnino tam grandibus ausis erat necesse me vel succumbere vel satisfacere; si satisfacerem, non video cur quod in decem praestare questionibus est laudabile, in nongentis etiam praestitisse culpabile existimetur. Si succumberem, habebunt ipsi, si me oderunt, unde accusarent, si amant unde excusent. Quoniam in re tam gravi, tam magna, tenui ingenio, exiguaque doctrina, adolescentem hominem defecisse, venia potius dignum erit quam accusatione.
It remains for me to answer, in the third place, those who are offended by the great number of propositions put forward—as if this burden sat on their shoulders, and not rather on me alone, who must toil through the labor, however great it is. Surely it is unseemly and overly peevish to want to set a limit to another’s industry and, as Cicero says, to desire moderation in a thing that is the better the greater it is. In so great a venture I had either to fail or to succeed. If I succeeded, I do not see why what is praiseworthy to achieve in ten questions should be thought blameworthy to have achieved in nine hundred as well. If I failed, they will have grounds to accuse me if they hate me, and to excuse me if they love me. For if a young man, with slender talent and scant learning, has failed in a matter so serious and so great, he will deserve pardon rather than accusation.
Quin et iuxta poetam: “Si deficiunt vires, audacia certe laus erit: in magnis et voluisse sat est”. Quod si nostra aetate multi, Gorgiam Leontinum imitati, non modo de nongentis sed de omnibus etiam omnium artium questionibus soliti sunt, non sine laude, proponere disputationem, cur mihi non liceat, vel sine culpa, de multis quidem, sed tamen certis et determinatis disputare?
Indeed, as the poet says: “If strength fails, boldness at least will earn praise: in great things, to have willed is enough.” And if in our age many, imitating Gorgias of Leontini, have been accustomed, and not without praise, to propose disputations not only on nine hundred questions but on all the questions of all the arts, why should I not be allowed, even without blame, to dispute on many questions, it is true, but definite and determined ones?
At superfluum inquiunt hoc et ambitiosum. Ego vero non superfluo modo, sed necessario factum hoc a me contendo, quod et si ipsi mecum philosophandi rationem considerarent, inviti etiam fateantur plane necesse est. Qui enim se cuipiam ex philosophorum familiis addixerunt, Thomae videlicet aut Scoto, qui nunc plurimum in manibus, faventes, possunt illi quidem vel in paucarum questionum discussione suae doctrinae periculum facere. At ego ita me institui, ut in nullius verba iuratus, me per omnes philosophiae magistros funderem, omnes scedas excuterem, omnes familias agnoscerem. Quare, cum mihi de illis omnibus esset dicendum, ne, si privati dogmatis defensor reliqua posthabuissem, illi viderer obstrictus, non potuerunt, etiam si pauca de singulis proponerentur, non esse plurima quae simul de omnibus afferebantur.
But this, they say, is superfluous and ambitious. I, on the contrary, contend that I did this not superfluously but of necessity; and if they considered the method of philosophizing with me, they would have to admit it plainly, even against their will. Those who have attached themselves to one of the philosophical schools—to Thomas, say, or to Scotus, who are now most widely read—can indeed test their doctrine by discussing a few questions. But I have trained myself, sworn to the words of no master, to range through all the masters of philosophy, examine all their writings, and come to know all the schools. Since I had to speak about all of them, and did not want to seem bound to a single doctrine by defending it and neglecting the rest, the points brought forward about all of them together could not fail to be very many, even if only a few were proposed about each.
Nec id in me quisquam damnet, quod me quocumque ferat tempestas deferar hospes. Fuit enim cum ab antiquis omnibus hoc observatum, ut omne scriptorum genus evolventes, nullas quas possent commentationes illectas preterirent, tum maxime ab Aristotele, qui eam ob causam anagnostes, idest lector, a Platone nuncupabatur, et profecto angustae est mentis intra unam se Porticum aut Achademiam continuisse. Nec potest ex omnibus sibi recte propriam selegisse, qui omnes prius familiariter non agnoverit. Adde quod in una quaque familia est aliquid insigne, quod non sit ei commune cum caeteris.
Nor let anyone condemn me because I go as a guest wherever the storm carries me. For all the ancients made it their practice, in reading every kind of writer, to pass over no treatise they could lay hands on without reading it; and above all Aristotle, who for that reason was called by Plato the anagnostes, that is, “the reader.” And surely it is the mark of a narrow mind to confine oneself within a single Porch or Academy. Nor can anyone rightly choose his own school from among them all who has not first come to know them all well. Add that in each school there is something distinctive that it does not share with the others.
Atque ut a nostris, ad quos postremo philosophia pervenit, nunc exordiar, est in Ioanne Scoto vegetum quiddam atque discussum, in Thoma solidum et equabile, in Egidio tersum et exactum, in Francisco acre et acutum, in Alberto priscum, amplum et grande, in Henrico, ut mihi visum est, semper sublime et venerandum. Est apud Arabes, in Averroe firmum et inconcusum, in Avempace, in Alpharabio grave et meditatum, in Avicenna divinum atque Platonicum. Est apud Graecos in universum quidem nitida, in primis et casta philosophia; apud Simplicium locuplex et copiosa, apud Themistium elegans et compendiaria, apud Alexandrum constans et docta, apud Theophrastum graviter elaborata, apud Ammonium enodis et gratiosa.
To begin now with our own thinkers, to whom philosophy came last: in John Scotus there is something vigorous and incisive; in Thomas, something solid and balanced; in Giles, something polished and precise; in Francis, something sharp and acute; in Albert, something ancient, broad and grand; in Henry, as it has seemed to me, something always sublime and venerable. Among the Arabs, there is in Averroes something firm and unshakable; in Avempace and in Alfarabi, something weighty and considered; in Avicenna, something divine and Platonic. Among the Greeks, philosophy is in general lucid, and above all chaste: in Simplicius it is rich and abundant; in Themistius, elegant and concise; in Alexander, consistent and learned; in Theophrastus, weightily worked out; in Ammonius, smooth and graceful.
Et si ad Platonicos te converteris, ut paucos percenseam, in Porphirio rerum copia et multiiuga religione delectaberis, in Iamblico secretiorem philosophiam et barbarorum mysteria veneraberis, in Plotino privum quicquam non est quod admireris, qui se undique prebet admirandum, quem de divinis divine, de humanis longe supra hominem docta sermonis obliquitate loquentem, sudantes Platonici vix intelligunt. Pretereo magis novitios, Proculum Asiatica fertilitate luxuriantem et qui ab eo fluxerunt Hermiam, Damascum, Olympiodorum et complures alios, in quibus omnibus illud to Theion, idest divinum peculiare Platonicorum simbolum elucet semper.
And if you turn to the Platonists, to review only a few: in Porphyry you will delight in the wealth of subject matter and his many-sided religion; in Iamblichus you will revere a more secret philosophy and the mysteries of the non-Greek peoples; in Plotinus there is no single thing to admire, for he shows himself admirable in every part. He speaks divinely of divine things and, of human things, far above the human, with such learned obliquity of style that the Platonists, sweating over him, barely understand him. I pass over the more recent ones: Proclus, luxuriant with Asiatic fertility, and those who flowed from him, Hermias, Damascius, Olympiodorus and many others. In all of them there always shines that to theion, that is, “the divine,” the distinctive emblem of the Platonists.
Accedit quod, si qua est secta quae veriora incessat dogmata et bonas causas ingenii calumnia ludificetur, ea veritatem firmat, non infirmat, et, velut motu quassatam flammam, excitat, non extinguit. Hac ego ratione motus, non unius modo (ut quibusdam placebat), sed omnigenae doctrinae placita in medium afferre volui, ut hac complurium sectarum collatione ac multifariae discussione philosophiae, ille veritatis fulgor, cuius Plato meminit in Epistolis, animis nostris quasi sol oriens ex alto clarius illucesceret. Quid erat, si Latinorum tantum, Alberti scilicet, Thomae, Scoti, Egidii, Francisci, Henricique philosophia, obmissis Graecorum Arabumque philosophis, tractabatur? Quando omnis sapientia a Barbaris ad Graecos, a Graecis ad nos manavit. Ita nostrates semper in philosophandi ratione peregrinis inventis stare, et aliena excoluisse sibi duxerunt satis.
Moreover, if there is any sect that attacks the truer doctrines and mocks good causes with the cavils of its wit, it strengthens the truth rather than weakens it; like a flame shaken by motion, it rouses the truth rather than extinguishes it. Moved by this reason, I wished to bring forward the tenets not of one doctrine only (as some would have liked) but of every kind. In this way, by comparing many sects and discussing a manifold philosophy, that radiance of truth which Plato mentions in his Letters might shine more clearly on our minds, like the sun rising from on high. What would it have been if only the philosophy of the Latins had been treated—that is, of Albert, Thomas, Scotus, Giles, Francis and Henry—leaving out the Greek and Arab philosophers? For all wisdom flowed from the non-Greek peoples to the Greeks, and from the Greeks to us. So our own people, in their method of philosophizing, have always thought it enough to rely on foreign discoveries and to cultivate what belonged to others.
Quid erat cum Peripateticis egisse de naturalibus nisi et Platonicorum accersebatur Achademia, quorum doctrina et de divinis semper inter omnes philosophias, teste Augustino, habita est sanctissima et a me nunc primum, quod sciam, (verbo absit invidia) post multa secula sub disputandi examen est in publicum allata. Quid erat et aliorum quot quot erant tractasse opiniones, si quasi ad sapientum symposium asymboli accedentes, nihil nos quod esset nostrum, nostro partum et elaboratum ingenio, afferebamus? Profecto ingenerosum est (ut ait Seneca) sapere solum ex commentario et quasi maiorum inventa nostrae industriae viam praecluserint, quasi in nobis effaeta sit vis naturae, nihil ex se parere, quod veritatem, si non demonstret, saltem innuat vel de longinquo.
What would it have been to treat natural things with the Peripatetics, unless the Academy of the Platonists were summoned too? Their doctrine, even concerning divine things, has always been held the holiest of all philosophies, as Augustine testifies; and now, for the first time as far as I know (be it said without envy), after many centuries, I have brought it into public to be examined in disputation. What would it have been to treat the opinions of all the others, however many they were, if we came to the banquet of the wise without our share, bringing nothing of our own, born and worked out by our own mind? Surely it is ignoble (as Seneca says) to be wise only from a notebook, as if the discoveries of our forebears had closed the way to our own industry, as if the force of nature were exhausted in us and could bring forth nothing of itself that, if it does not demonstrate the truth, at least hints at it, even from afar.
Quod si in agro colonus, in uxore maritus odit sterilitatem, certe tanto magis infecundam animam oderit illi complicita et associata divina mens, quanto inde nobilior longe proles desideratur.
For if the farmer hates barrenness in his field, and the husband in his wife, surely the divine mind, bound and joined to a barren soul, will hate it all the more, since it desires from it a far nobler offspring.
The Nine Hundred Theses
What his theses offer: the concord of Plato and Aristotle, new doctrines, philosophy by numbers, natural magic, the Cabala, Orpheus and Zoroaster.
Propterea non contentus ego, praeter comunes doctrinas multa de Mercurii Trismegisti prisca theologia, multa de Caldeorum, de Pythagorae disciplinis, multa de secretioribus Hebreorum addidisse mysteriis, plurima quoque per nos inventa et meditata, de naturalibus et divinis rebus disputanda proposuimus.
For this reason I was not content, besides the common doctrines, to add much on the ancient theology of Hermes Trismegistus, much on the teachings of the Chaldeans and of Pythagoras, much on the more secret mysteries of the Hebrews. I have also proposed for disputation a great many things about natural and divine matters that I discovered and thought out myself.
Proposuimus primo Platonis Aristotelisque concordiam a multis ante hac creditam, a nemine satis probatam. Boetius, apud Latinos id se facturum pollicitus, non invenitur fecisse unquam quod semper facere voluit. Simplicius, apud Graecos idem professus, utinam id tam praestaret quam pollicetur. Scribit et Augustinus in Achademicis non defuisse plures qui subtilissimis suis disputationibus idem probare conati sint, Platonis scilicet et Aristotelis eandem esse philosophiam. Ioannes item Grammaticus cum dicat apud eos tantum dissidere Platonem ab Aristotele, qui Platonis dicta non intelligunt probandum tamen posteris hoc reliquit. Addidimus autem et plures locos in quibus Scoti et Thomae, plures in quibus Averrois et Avicennae sententias, quae discordes existimantur, concordes esse nos asseveramus.
First, we have proposed the concord of Plato and Aristotle, believed by many before now but adequately proved by no one. Boethius, among the Latins, promised to do it, but is not found ever to have done what he always wished to do. Simplicius, among the Greeks, professed the same—would that he delivered as much as he promises! Augustine too writes in Against the Academics that there were many who tried in their most subtle disputations to prove the same thing, namely that the philosophy of Plato and that of Aristotle are one and the same. John the Grammarian likewise says that Plato differs from Aristotle only for those who do not understand Plato’s words, yet he left the proof of this to posterity. We have also added many passages in which we assert that the opinions of Scotus and Thomas, and many in which those of Averroes and Avicenna, which are thought to be discordant, are in agreement.
Secundo loco quae in philosophia cum Aristotelica tum Platonica excogitavimus nos, tum duo et septuaginta nova dogmata physica et methaphisica collocavimus, quae si quis teneat, poterit, nisi fallor, quod mihi erit mox manifestum, quamcumque de rebus naturalibus divinisque propositam questionem longe alia dissolvere ratione quam per eam edoceamur quae et legitur in scolis et ab huius evi doctoribus colitur philosophiam. Nec tam admirari quis debet, Patres, me in primis annis, in tenera etate, per quam vix licuit (ut iactant quidam) aliorum legere commentationes, novam afferre velle philosophiam, quam vel laudare illam, si defenditur, vel damnare, si reprobatur et denique, cum nostra inventa haec nostrasque sint litteras iudicaturi, non auctoris annos, sed illorum merita potius vel demerita numerare.
In the second place, we have set out what we ourselves have devised in both Aristotelian and Platonic philosophy, and then seventy-two new doctrines in physics and metaphysics. Whoever holds them will be able, unless I am mistaken—and this will soon be clear to me—to resolve any question proposed about natural and divine things by a method very different from the one taught us by the philosophy that is read in the schools and cultivated by the doctors of this age. Nor, Fathers, should anyone so much wonder that in my first years, at a tender age, when I could scarcely (as some claim) have read the commentaries of others, I should wish to bring forward a new philosophy. Rather, let him praise it if it is defended, or condemn it if it is refuted. And finally, since they are to judge these discoveries and writings of ours, let them count not the author’s years but rather their merits or demerits.
Philosophy by numbers
Pico revives the ancient method of philosophizing through numbers and offers to answer seventy-four questions by it.
Est autem, et praeter illam, alia, quam nos attulimus, nova per numeros philosophandi institutio antiqua, illa quidem et a priscis theologis, a Pythagora presertim, ab Aglaopheno, a Philolao, a Platone prioribusque Platonicis observata. Sed quae hac tempestate, ut preclara alia, posteriorum incuria sic exolevit, ut vix vestigia ipsius ulla reperiantur. Scribit Plato in Epinomide, inter omnes liberales artes et scientias contemplatrices praecipuam maximeque divinam esse scientiam numerandi. Querens item, cur homo animal sapientissimum? Respondet: “Quia numerare novit”. Cuius sententiae et Aristoteles meminit in Problematis. Scribit Abumasar verbum fuisse Avenzoar Babilonii, eum omnia nosse qui noverat numerare.
Besides that philosophy, there is another that we have brought forward: a new method of philosophizing through numbers. It is in fact an ancient one, observed by the ancient theologians, especially by Pythagoras, Aglaophamus, Philolaus, Plato and the earlier Platonists. But in our time, like other splendid things, it has so fallen out of use through the neglect of later generations that scarcely any trace of it is to be found. Plato writes in the Epinomis that among all the liberal arts and contemplative sciences, the science of number is the chief and the most divine. Likewise, asking why man is the wisest of living creatures, he answers: “Because he knows how to count.” Aristotle too mentions this opinion in the Problems. Abumasar writes that it was a saying of Avenzoar of Babylon that whoever knew how to count knew everything.
Quae vera esse nullo modo possunt, si per numerandi artem eam artem intellexerunt cuius nunc mercatores in primis sunt peritissimi, quod et Plato testatur, exerta nos admonens voce ne divinam hanc arithmeticam mercatoriam esse arithmeticam intelligamus. Illam ergo arithmeticam, quae ita extollitur, cum mihi videar post multas lucubrationes exploratam habere, huiusce rei periculum facturus, ad quatuor et LXX questiones, quae inter physicas et divinas principales existimantur, responsurum per numeros publice me sum pollicitus.
These statements cannot possibly be true if by the art of counting they meant the art in which merchants are now especially skilled. Plato himself testifies to this, warning us plainly not to take this divine arithmetic for the arithmetic of merchants. So, since after many nights of study I believe I have thoroughly mastered that arithmetic which is so extolled, I have publicly promised, to put the matter to the test, to answer by means of numbers seventy-four questions that are considered among the chief ones in natural and divine philosophy.
Two kinds of magic
Pico condemns demonic magic and praises natural magic as the perfection of natural philosophy.
Proposuimus et magica theoremata, in quibus duplicem esse magiam significavimus, quarum altera demonum tota opere et auctoritate constat, res medius fidius execranda et portentosa. Altera nihil est aliud, cum bene exploratur, quam naturalis philosophiae absoluta consumatio. Utriusque cum meminerint Greci, illam magiae nullo modo nomine dignantes goeteian nuncupant, hanc propria peculiarique appellatione mageian, quasi perfectam summamque sapientiam vocant. Idem enim, ut ait Porphyrius, Persarum lingua magus sonat quod apud nos divinorum interpres et cultor. Magna autem, immo maxima, Patres, inter has artes disparilitas et dissimilitudo. Illam non modo Christiana religio, sed omnes leges, omnis bene instituta respublica damnat et execratur. Hanc omnes sapientes, omnes caelestium et divinarum rerum studiosae nationes, approbant et amplectuntur.
We have also proposed theses on magic, in which we have indicated that there are two kinds of magic. One consists wholly in the work and authority of demons—a thing, so help me heaven, abominable and monstrous. The other, when properly examined, is nothing other than the absolute perfection of natural philosophy. The Greeks mention both. The first they do not dignify with the name of magic at all, calling it goeteia [sorcery]; the second they call by its own proper name, mageia, as if to say perfect and supreme wisdom. For, as Porphyry says, in the Persian language magus means what among us is an interpreter and worshipper of divine things. Great, indeed the greatest, Fathers, is the disparity and dissimilarity between these arts. The first is condemned and abhorred not only by the Christian religion but by all laws and every well-ordered state. The second is approved and embraced by all the wise and by all nations devoted to heavenly and divine things.
Illa artium fraudulentissima, haec altior sanctiorque philosophia, illa irrita et vana, haec firma fidelis et solida. Illam quisquis coluit semper dissimulavit, quod in auctoris esset ignominiam et contumeliam, ex hac summa litterarum claritas gloriaque antiquitus et pene semper petita. Illius nemo unquam studiosus fuit vir philosophus et cupidus discendi bonas artes; ad hanc Pythagoras, Empedocles, Democritus, Plato, discendam navigavere, hanc predicarunt reversi, et in archanis precipuam habuerunt. Illa, ut nullis rationibus, ita nec certis probatur auctoribus; haec, clarissimis quasi parentibus honestata, duos precipue habet auctores: Xamolsidem, quem imitatus est Abbaris Hyperboreus, et Zoroastrem, non quem forte creditis, sed illum Oromasi filium.
The first is the most deceitful of arts; the second, a higher and holier philosophy. The first is fruitless and empty; the second, firm, trustworthy and solid. Whoever practiced the first always concealed it, since it brought disgrace and shame on its practitioner; from the second, in antiquity and almost always, men sought the highest renown and glory in learning. No philosopher, no one eager to learn good arts, was ever devoted to the first; to learn the second, Pythagoras, Empedocles, Democritus and Plato sailed abroad, preached it on their return, and held it chief among their secret teachings. The first, as it is supported by no reasons, so it is supported by no reliable authors. The second, honored as if by most illustrious parents, has two principal authors: Zamolxis, whom Abaris the Hyperborean imitated, and Zoroaster—not the one you may perhaps think, but the son of Oromasius.
Utriusque magia quid sit, Platonem si percontemur, respondebit in Alcibiade: Zoroastris magiam non esse aliud quam divinorum scientiam, qua filios Persarum reges erudiebant, ut ad exemplar mundanae reipublicae suam ipsi regere rempublicam edocerentur. Respondebit in Carmide, magiam Xalmosidis esse animi medicinam, per quam scilicet animo temperantia, ut per illam corpori sanitas comparatur.
If we ask Plato what the magic of each of them is, he will answer in the Alcibiades that the magic of Zoroaster is nothing other than the knowledge of divine things, in which the kings of the Persians instructed their sons, so that they might learn to rule their own commonwealth on the model of the commonwealth of the world. He will answer in the Charmides that the magic of Zamolxis is the medicine of the soul, by which temperance is procured for the soul, as health is procured for the body by the other kind of medicine.
Horum vestigiis postea perstiterunt Carondas, Damigeron, Apollonius, Hostanes et Dardanus. Perstitit Homerus, quem ut omnes alias sapientias, ita hanc quoque sub sui Ulixis erroribus dissimulasse in poetica nostra theologia aliquando probabimus. Perstiterunt Eudoxus et Hermippus. Perstiterunt fere omnes qui Pythagorica Platonicaque mysteria sunt perscrutati. Ex iunioribus autem, qui eam olfecerint tres reperio, Alchindum Arabem, Rogerium Baconem et Guilielmum Parisiensem. Meminit et Plotinus, ubi naturae ministrum esse et non artificem magum demonstrat: hanc magiam probat asseveratque vir sapientissimus, alteram ita abhorrens ut, cum ad malorum demonum sacra vocaretur, rectius esse, dixerit, ad se illos quam se ad illos accedere, et merito quidem. Ut enim illa obnoxium mancipatumque improbis potestatibus hominem reddit, ita haec illarum principem et dominum.
Later, Charondas, Damigeron, Apollonius, Osthanes and Dardanus followed in their footsteps. So did Homer, who, as we shall prove someday in our Poetic Theology, concealed this wisdom, like all the others, beneath the wanderings of his Ulysses. So did Eudoxus and Hermippus. So did almost all who searched out the Pythagorean and Platonic mysteries. Among more recent writers I find three who caught the scent of it: Alkindi the Arab, Roger Bacon and William of Paris. Plotinus too mentions it, where he shows that the magus is the minister of nature and not its craftsman. This wisest of men approves and affirms this magic, while so abhorring the other that, when he was invited to the rites of evil demons, he said it was more fitting for them to come to him than for him to go to them—and rightly so. For as the first makes man subject and enslaved to wicked powers, so the second makes him their prince and lord.
Illa denique nec artis nec scientiae sibi potest nomen vendicare; haec altissimis plena misteriis, profundissimam rerum secretissimarum contemplationem, et demum totius naturae cognitionem complectitur. Haec, inter sparsas Dei beneficio et inter seminatas mundo virtutes, quasi de latebris evocans in lucem, non tam facit miranda quam facienti naturae sedula famulatur. Haec universi consensum, quem significantius Graeci sumpatheian dicunt, introrsum perscrutatius rimata et mutuam naturarum cognitionem habens perspectatam, nativas adibens unicuique rei et suas illecebras, quae magorum iunges nominantur, in mundi recessibus, in naturae gremio, in promptuariis arcanisque Dei latitantia miracula, quasi ipsa sit artifex, promit in publicum, et sicut agricola ulmos vitibus, ita magus terram caelo, idest inferiora superiorum dotibus virtutibusque maritat. Quo fit ut quam illa prodigiosa et noxia, tam haec divina et salutaris appareat.
Finally, the first cannot claim the name of either art or science. The second, full of the loftiest mysteries, embraces the most profound contemplation of the most secret things and, in the end, the knowledge of the whole of nature. Among the powers scattered and sown in the world by God’s kindness, it calls them forth into the light, as if from hiding places, and does not so much work marvels as sedulously serve nature as she works them. It has searched deeply into the harmony of the universe, which the Greeks more expressively call sympatheia [fellow-feeling], and has clearly grasped the mutual affinity of natures. Applying to each thing its own innate allurements, which are called the iunges [charms] of the magi, it brings forth into public, as if it were itself their maker, the marvels hidden in the recesses of the world, in the bosom of nature, in the storehouses and secret places of God. And as the farmer weds elms to vines, so the magus weds earth to heaven, that is, lower things to the gifts and powers of higher ones. Hence the second appears as divine and salutary as the first appears monstrous and harmful.
Ob hoc praecipue quod illa hominem, Dei hostibus mancipans, avocat a Deo, haec in eam operum Dei admirationem excitat, quam propensa charitas, fides ac spes, certissime consequuntur. Neque enim ad religionem, ad Dei cultum quicquam promovet magis quam assidua contemplatio mirabilium Dei, quae ut per hanc de qua agimus naturalem magiam bene exploraverimus, in opificis cultum amoremque ardentius animati illud canere compellemur: “Pleni sunt caeli, plena est omnis terra maiestate gloriae tuae”. Et haec satis de magia, de qua haec diximus, quod scio esse plures qui, sicut canes ignotos semper adlatrant, ita et ipsi saepe damnant oderuntque quae non intelligunt.
This is above all because the first, enslaving man to the enemies of God, calls him away from God, while the second rouses him to that admiration of God’s works which is most surely followed by ready charity, faith and hope. For nothing promotes religion and the worship of God more than constant contemplation of God’s wonders. When we have explored them well through this natural magic we are discussing, we shall be moved more ardently to worship and love the craftsman, and shall be compelled to sing: “The heavens are full, all the earth is full of the majesty of your glory.” And that is enough about magic. I have said this much because I know there are many who, just as dogs always bark at strangers, often condemn and hate what they do not understand.
The Kabbalah
Pico describes the secret teaching Moses received and finds Christian doctrine in the Kabbalist books.
Venio nunc ad ea quae ex antiquis Hebreorum mysteriis eruta, ad sacrosantam et catholicam fidem confirmandam attuli, quae ne forte ab his, quibus sunt ignota, commentitiae nugae aut fabulae circumlatorum existimentur, volo intelligant omnes quae et qualia sint, unde petita, quibus et quam claris auctoribus confirmata et quam reposita, quam divina, quam nostris hominibus ad propugnandam religionem contra Hebreorum importunas calumnias sint necessaria.
I come now to the things I have dug out of the ancient mysteries of the Hebrews and brought forward to confirm the sacrosanct and Catholic faith. Those unfamiliar with them may perhaps take them for invented trifles or the tales of wandering charlatans. So I want everyone to understand what they are and of what kind, where they come from, by which authors they are confirmed and how illustrious those authors are, how hidden, how divine, and how necessary they are to our people for defending religion against the insistent accusations of the Hebrews.
Scribunt non modo celebres Hebreorum doctores, sed ex nostris quoque Hesdras, Hilarius et Origenes, Mosen non legem modo, quam quinque exaratam libris posteris reliquit, sed secretionem quoque et veram legis enarrationem in monte divinitus accepisse; preceptum autem ei a Deo ut legem quidem populo publicaret, legis interpretationem nec traderet litteris, nec invulgaret, sed ipse Iesu Nave tantum, tum ille aliis deinceps succedentibus sacerdotum primoribus, magna silentii religione, revelaret. Satis erat per simplicem historiam nunc Dei potentiam, nunc in improbos iram, in bonos clementiam, in omnes iustitiam agnoscere, et per divina salutariaque precepta ad bene beateque vivendum et cultum verae religionis institui.
Not only the renowned Hebrew doctors, but also, among our own writers, Esdras, Hilary and Origen write that Moses received on the mountain from God not only the law, which he left to posterity written in five books, but also a more secret and true explanation of the law. God commanded him to publish the law to the people, but neither to commit the interpretation of the law to writing nor to divulge it. He was to reveal it only to Joshua, son of Nun, and Joshua in turn to the high priests who succeeded him, one after another, under a solemn obligation of silence. It was enough for the people, through the plain narrative, to recognize now the power of God, now his wrath against the wicked, his mercy toward the good, his justice toward all, and to be instructed through divine and saving precepts in living well and happily and in the worship of true religion.
At mysteria secretiora et sub cortice legis rudique verborum pretestu latitantia, altissimae divinitatis archana, plebi palam facere, quid erat aliud quam dare sanctum canibus et inter porcos spargere margaritas?
But to make public to the common people the more secret mysteries, the hidden truths of the highest godhead, concealed beneath the bark of the law and the rough covering of its words—what would that have been but to give what is holy to dogs and cast pearls before swine?
Ergo haec clam vulgo habere, perfectis communicanda, inter quos tantum sapientiam loqui se ait Paulus, non humani consilii sed divini precepti fuit. Quem morem antiqui philosophi sanctissime observarunt. Pythagoras nihil scripsit nisi paucula quaedam, quae Damae filiae moriens commendavit. Egiptiorum templis insculptae Sphinges, hoc admonebant ut mistica dogmata per enigmatum nodos a prophana multitudine inviolata custodirentur. Plato Dionisio quaedam de supremis scribens substantiis: “Per enigmata, inquit, dicendum est, ne si epistola forte ad aliorum pervenerit manus, quae tibi scribimus ab aliis intelligantur”. Aristoteles libros Methaphisicae in quibus agit de divinis editos esse et non editos dicebat. Quid plura? Iesum Christum vitae magistrum asserit Origenes multa revelasse discipulis, quae illi, ne vulgo fierent comunia, scribere noluerunt.
So keeping these things hidden from the common people, to be shared only with the perfect, among whom alone Paul says he speaks wisdom, was a matter not of human counsel but of divine command. The ancient philosophers observed this custom most scrupulously. Pythagoras wrote nothing except a few small works, which on his deathbed he entrusted to his daughter Damo. The Sphinxes carved on the temples of the Egyptians warned that mystic doctrines should be kept inviolate from the profane multitude by the knots of riddles. Plato, writing to Dionysius about the supreme substances, says: “It must be said in riddles, so that if the letter should happen to fall into other hands, what we write to you may not be understood by others.” Aristotle used to say that his books of Metaphysics, in which he treats of divine things, were both published and not published. What more need I say? Origen asserts that Jesus Christ, the teacher of life, revealed many things to his disciples which they refused to write down, lest they become common property of the crowd.
Quod maxime confirmat Dyonisius Areopagita, qui secretiora mysteria a nostrae religionis auctoribus ek nou eis noun dia meson logon, idest ex animo in animum, sine litteris, medio intercedente verbo, ait fuisse transfusa. Hoc eodem penitus modo cum ex Dei praecepto vera illa legis interpretatio Moisi deitus tradita revelaretur, dicta est Cabala, quod idem est apud Hebreos quod apud nos “receptio”; ob id scilicet quod illam doctrinam, non per litterarum monumenta, sed ordinariis revelationum successionibus alter ab altero quasi hereditario iure reciperet.
This is strongly confirmed by Dionysius the Areopagite, who says that the more secret mysteries were passed on by the founders of our religion ek nou eis noun dia meson logon, that is, from mind to mind, without writing, through the medium of the spoken word. In exactly the same way, when that true interpretation of the law, given by God to Moses, was revealed at God’s command, it was called Kabbalah, which is the same in Hebrew as “reception” in our language. It was so called because one person received that teaching from another not through written records but by an ordered succession of revelations, as if by right of inheritance.
Verum postquam Hebrei a Babilonica captivitate restituti per Cyrum et sub Zorobabel instaurato templo ad reparandam legem animum appulerunt, Esdras, tunc ecclesiae praefectus, post emendatum Moseos librum, cum plane cognosceret per exilia, cedes, fugas, captivitatem gentis Israeliticae institutum a maioribus morem tradendae per manus doctrinae servari non posse, futurumque ut sibi divinitus indulta celestis doctrinae arcana perirent, quorum commentariis non intercedentibus durare diu memoria non poterat, constituit ut, convocatis qui tunc supererant sapientibus, afferret unusquisque in medium quae de mysteriis legis memoriter tenebat, adhibitisque notariis in LXX volumina (tot enim fere in sinedrio sapientes) redigerentur. Qua de re ne mihi soli credatis, Patres, audite Esdram ipsum sic loquentem: “Exactis XL diebus loquutus est Altissimus dicens.
But after the Hebrews had been restored from the Babylonian captivity by Cyrus, and the temple had been rebuilt under Zerubbabel, they turned their minds to restoring the law. Esdras, then head of the congregation, corrected the book of Moses. He clearly recognized that, because of the exiles, massacres, flights and captivity of the people of Israel, the custom established by their ancestors of handing down the teaching from hand to hand could not be preserved, and that the secrets of the heavenly teaching granted them by God would perish, since their memory could not long endure without written commentaries. So he decided to call together the wise men who still survived; each was to bring forward what he remembered of the mysteries of the law, and with scribes present it was to be set down in seventy volumes (for there were about that many wise men in the Sanhedrin). And so that you need not rely on me alone in this matter, Fathers, hear Esdras himself speaking thus: “When forty days had passed, the Most High spoke, saying:
Priora quae scripsisti in palam pone, legant digni et indigni, novissimos autem LXX libros conservabis ut tradas eos sapientibus de populo tuo. In his enim est vena intellectus et sapientiae fons et scientiae flumen. Atque ita feci”. Haec Esdras ad verbum. Hi sunt libri scientiae Cabalae, in his libris merito Esdras venam intellectus, idest ineffabilem de supersubstantiali deitate theologiam, sapientiae fontem, idest de intelligibilibus angelicisque formis exactam methaphisicam, et scientiae flumen, idest de rebus naturalibus firmissimam philosophiam esse, clara in primis voce pronuntiavit.
‘Make public the first books you have written, and let the worthy and the unworthy read them; but keep the last seventy books, so as to hand them over to the wise among your people. For in them is the vein of understanding, the fountain of wisdom and the river of knowledge.’ And so I did.” These are Esdras’s exact words. These are the books of the science of the Kabbalah. In these books, as Esdras rightly proclaimed in a clear voice, is the vein of understanding, that is, the ineffable theology of the supersubstantial deity; the fountain of wisdom, that is, the exact metaphysics of the intelligible and angelic forms; and the river of knowledge, that is, the most solid philosophy of natural things.
Hi libri Sixtus quartus Pontifex Maximus, qui hunc sub quo vivimus foeliciter Innocentium VIII proxime antecessit, maxima cura studioque curavit ut in publicam fidei nostrae utilitatem Latinis litteris mandarentur. Iamque cum ille decessit, tres ex illis pervenerant ad Latinos. Hi libri apud Hebreos hac tempestate tanta religione coluntur, ut neminem liceat nisi annos XL natum illos attingere. Hos ego libros non mediocri impensa mihi cum comparassem, summa diligentia indefessis laboribus cum perlegissem, vidi in illis (testis est Deus) religionem non tam Mosaicam quam Christianam.
Sixtus IV, the Supreme Pontiff, immediate predecessor of Innocent VIII, under whom we now happily live, took the greatest care and pains to have these books translated into Latin for the public benefit of our faith. When he died, three of them had already reached the Latins. Among the Hebrews these books are held in such reverence today that no one is allowed to touch them unless he is forty years old. When I had acquired these books at no small expense and had read them through with the utmost diligence and unwearied labor, I saw in them (God is my witness) a religion not so much Mosaic as Christian.
Ibi Trinitatis mysterium, ibi Verbi incarnatio, ibi Messiae divinitas, ibi de peccato originali, de illius per Christum expiatione, de caelesti Hyerusalem de casu demonum, de ordinibus angelorum, de purgatoriis, de inferorum paenis, eadem legi quae apud Paulum et Dyonisium apud Hieronymum et Augustinum quotidie legimus. In his vero quae spectant ad philosophiam, Pythagoram prorsus audias et Platonem, quorum decreta ita sunt fidei Christianae affinia, ut Augustinus noster immensas Deo gratias agat quod ad eius manus pervenerint libri Platonicorum.
There is the mystery of the Trinity, there the incarnation of the Word, there the divinity of the Messiah. There I read about original sin and its expiation through Christ, about the heavenly Jerusalem, the fall of the demons, the orders of angels, purgatory and the punishments of hell—the same things we read every day in Paul and Dionysius, in Jerome and Augustine. And in matters of philosophy, you would think you were hearing Pythagoras and Plato themselves, whose doctrines are so akin to the Christian faith that our Augustine gives boundless thanks to God that the books of the Platonists came into his hands.
In plenum nulla est ferme de re nobis cum Hebreis controversia de qua ex libris Cabalistarum ita redargui convincique non possint, ut ne angulus quidem reliquus sit in quem se condant. Cuius rei testem gravissimum habeo Antonium Cronicum, virum eruditissimum, qui suis auribus cum apud eum essem in convivio, audivit Dactylum Hebreum peritum huius scientiae in Christianorum prorsus de Trinitate sententiam pedibus manibusque descendere.
In short, there is hardly any point in dispute between us and the Hebrews on which they cannot be so refuted and convinced from the books of the Kabbalists that not even a corner is left for them to hide in. Of this I have a most weighty witness in Antonius Chronicus, a very learned man. When I was dining at his house, he heard with his own ears Dactylus, a Hebrew skilled in this science, come round wholeheartedly to the Christian view of the Trinity.
Orpheus, Zoroaster and the close
Pico mentions his theses on Orpheus and Zoroaster, answers his critics, and calls the doctors to debate.
Sed ut ad meae redeam disputationis capita percensenda, attulimus et nostram de interpretandis Orphei Zoroastrisque carminibus sententiam. Orpheus apud Graecos ferme integer; Zoroaster apud eos mancus, apud Caldeos absolutior legitur: ambo priscae sapientiae crediti patres et auctores. Nam ut taceam de Zoroastre, cuius frequens apud Platonicos non sine summa semper veneratione est mentio, scribit Iamblicus Calcideus habuisse Pythagoram Orphycam theologiam tamquam exemplar ad quam ipse suam fingeret formaretque philosophiam. Quin idcirco tantum dicta Pythagorae sacra nuncupari dicunt, quod ab Orphei fluxerint institutis; inde secreta de numeris doctrina et quicquid magnum sublimeque habuit Graeca philosophia ut a primo fonte manavit.
But to return to reviewing the theses of my disputation: we have also put forward our view on interpreting the poems of Orpheus and Zoroaster. Orpheus is read among the Greeks almost complete; Zoroaster, among them, in fragments, but more fully among the Chaldeans. Both are held to be fathers and founders of the ancient wisdom. For, to say nothing of Zoroaster, who is often mentioned among the Platonists and always with the greatest veneration, Iamblichus of Chalcis writes that Pythagoras took the Orphic theology as the model on which he shaped and formed his own philosophy. Indeed, they say that the sayings of Pythagoras are called sacred for this reason alone, that they flowed from the teachings of Orpheus. From there flowed, as from its first source, the secret doctrine of numbers and whatever was great and sublime in Greek philosophy.
Sed (qui erat veterum mos theologorum) ita Orpheus suorum dogmatum mysteria fabularum intexit involucris et poetico velamento dissimulavit, ut si quis legat illius hymnos, nihil subesse credat praeter fabellas nugasque meracissimas. Quod volui dixisse ut cognoscatur quis mihi labor quae fuerit difficultas, ex affectatis enigmatum syrpis, ex fabularum latebris latitantes eruere secretae philosophiae sensus, nulla praesertim in re tam gravi tam abscondita inexplorataque adiuto aliorum interpretum opera et diligentia. Et tamen oblatrarunt canes mei minutula quaedam et levia ad numeri ostentationem me accumulasse, quasi non omnes quae ambiguae maxime controversaeque sunt questiones, in quibus principales digladiantur achademiae, quasi non multa attulerim his ipsis, qui et mea carpunt et se credunt philosophorum principes, et incognita prorsus et intentata.
But, as was the custom of the ancient theologians, Orpheus so wove the mysteries of his doctrines into the wrappings of fables and disguised them under a poetic veil that anyone reading his hymns would think there was nothing beneath them but tales and the purest nonsense. I wanted to say this so that it might be known how great my labor was, how great the difficulty, in digging out the meanings of secret philosophy hidden in the deliberate tangles of riddles and the hiding places of fables—especially since, in a matter so serious, so hidden and unexplored, I had no help from the work and diligence of other interpreters. And yet my dogs have barked that I heaped up trifling, light matters to make a show of numbers. As if I had not put forward all the most ambiguous and controversial questions, over which the principal schools fight it out! As if I had not brought forward many things wholly unknown and untried even by those very men who carp at my work and think themselves the princes of philosophers!
Quin ego tantum absum ab ea culpa, ut curaverim in quam paucissima potui capita cogere disputationem. Quam si (ut consueverunt alii) partiri ipse in sua membra et lancinare voluissem, in innumerum profecto numerum excrevisset. Et, ut taceam de caeteris, quis est qui nesciat unum dogma ex nongentis, quod scilicet de concilianda est Platonis Aristotelisque philosophia, potuisse me citra omnem affectatae numerositatis suspitionem in sexcenta ne dicam plura capita deduxisse, locos scilicet omnes in quibus dissidere alii, convenire ego illos existimo particulatim enumerantem? Sed certe (dicam enim quamquam neque modeste neque ex ingenio meo) dicam tamen, quia dicere me invidi cogunt, cogunt obtrectatores, volui hoc meo congressu fidem facere non tam quod multa scirem, quam quod scirem quae multi nesciunt.
In fact, I am so far from this fault that I have taken care to compress the disputation into as few theses as I could. Had I wished, as others usually do, to divide it into its parts and cut it to pieces, it would surely have grown to a countless number. And to say nothing of the rest, who does not know that a single one of the nine hundred doctrines, the one on reconciling the philosophy of Plato and Aristotle, I could have spun out, without any suspicion of seeking great numbers, into six hundred theses, not to say more, by listing one by one all the passages in which others think they disagree and I think they agree? But certainly—for I will say it, though it is neither modest nor in keeping with my character—I will say it nonetheless, because the envious force me to, my detractors force me: I wished by this encounter of mine to show, not so much that I knew many things, as that I knew things many do not know.
Quod ut vobis re ipsa, Patres colendissimi, iam palam fiat, ut desiderium vestrum, doctores excellentissimi, quos paratos accintosque expectare pugnam non sine magna voluptate conspicio, mea longius oratio non remoretur, quod foelix faustumque sit quasi citante classico iam conseramus manus.
So that this may now become clear to you in fact, most honored Fathers, and so that my speech may delay no longer the desire of you, most excellent doctors, whom I see, not without great pleasure, ready and girded, awaiting the contest, let us now, as at the sound of the trumpet, join battle—and may good fortune and success attend it.