Appendix 2

Additional and Distinctive Features of Hermann of Carinthia’s Translation of the Great Introduction

In this Appendix are included translations of all the passages from Hermann of Carin­thia’s translation of Abū Maʿšar’s Great Introduction that have no equivalent in the Arabic text, or are significantly different in their meaning. The original Latin of these passages can be found in Lemay, Great Introduction, VIII. The relevant Part (in Roman numerals), chapter, and section numbers are given and Lemay’s page and line numbers are added in round brackets.

Hermann’s preface; cf. I, 1.8 (2.5–3.39):[1]

Among the Latins the rule is to apply an external art to the principles of each art;[2] but for the beginnings of books an approach is prepared not by any authoritative writing that I have found in that language, but rather by the decision only of individual teachers. Among the Arabs the opposite is the case. They seem never to have drawn attention to the first of the two ⟨principles⟩,[3] but they sometimes assume it partially and sporadically, although in our opinion it is very necessary. But the second, devised, one, which they did not deem worthy of committing to script, they have commended as if it is a great muniment to the written word.

From this second kind the author of this work begins, saying: ‘There are seven beginnings to every composition: 1) the aim of the author, 2) the usefulness of the work, 3) the name of the author, 4) the name of the book, 5) its place in the order of teaching, 6) its species—whether it is theory or practice—, 7) and the divisions of the book.’ Among us a five-part division should suffice: 1) the title of the work, 2) the aim of the author, 3) the final cause, 4) the way of dealing with the subject matter, and 5) the order of material. These seem to be both necessary and sufficient for the beginning of almost every composition, whether written or spoken. He (Abū Maʿšar) gives his reason for each of these items.

When I, hating the prolixity and wanting to leave out those things that seemed less relevant—since I recognised this custom among the Latins—, was preparing to begin from the treatise itself, you, my special and inseparable companion in all our studies and affairs, my dear Robert (if you remember), met me saying: ‘Although neither would it be appropriate for you, considering your character, my dear Hermann, nor for any well-advised interpreter of a foreign tongue, to divert in any way from a certain precept of Boethius,[4] nevertheless, it seems one should follow a different route, and one should not be particularly worried[5] lest, whoever reads this book in the Arabic language, if he sees that in Latin it has not started from its beginning, on which the gaze of the reader first falls, imputing this not to a deliberate choice, but to ignorance, should perhaps accuse the whole work of being deficient, and us of straying from the path.’

I obeyed, since I approached the work itself above all with your encouragement, so that if anything is added to the wealth of Latin by our effort, the merit should be credited not more to me than to you, since you are both the cause of the project and the judge of its result, and in both you are a most dependable witness, having experienced how hard it is to produce something fitting in Latin speech from such a fluid kind of speaking as prevails among the Arabs—especially in matters that demand such a close imitation of reality. This said, let us not delay any longer, but take up the beginning of the text from its very words.

Hermann’s description of what should be known about the book; cf. I, 1.9–15 (3.41–64).

The account of the aim, by putting forward the essentials of the matter briefly and completely, makes the mind of the student attentive and ready to learn. The promise of usefulness lightens the task and provides a certain inward sympathy of the mind. The name of the author is necessary for two reasons: both to assure the authenticity of the work, and to prevent anyone else from receiving unmerited glory, if it is unclear and of an uncertain attribution. The name of the book adds to the evidence of its aim. The place in the order of learning, by instructing the mind of the learner what should be read after what, sensibly directs him to the understanding of the disciplines. The genus of the knowledge, and the number and description of the parts, makes him attentive and ready to learn.

Since then, among all the writers on this art no one up to now has been found who can either reply to those refuting it, or provide an argument to those in favour of it; moreover, there is no one who describes the whole art completely, our aim in this work is to mount a defense against the former, give a firm foundation to the latter, and transmit the whole art, by divine help. Hence it is clear that this considerable usefulness accrues: those who have put their effort into this enterprise, because different helps must come from different tasks, will neither give up nor be found wanting. We have thought that such a great work must be confirmed by reliable names, both of the author and the book; writing first the title, we say: “the Introduction to Astrology of Abuma‘xar Albalachi”. Therefore, after astronomy it is the first book that should be read on astrology, brought out principally for the theoretical part of this art, covering the principles and the genera. It is divided into eight parts, each subdivided into its chapters.

Hermann’s introduction to the second chapter; cf. I, 2.2 (4.69–74).

First we must explain what reason first excited man, when placed on earth, to investigate the decrees of the heavenly council, and then to make progress in them. For it does not seem that such a course would have been siezed on by some unmeditated action or by a sudden impulse, nor without the expenditure of the greatest effort.

I, 5.18 (17.561–568). Hermann on the contingent.

But this is what the service (‘officium’) of astrology especially provides. For the astrologer does not undertake to predict whether a man will die; for this is certainly inevitable; but whether he will die tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. Thus, since the leadership of the stars precedes the arrival of the things, before ⟨they arrive⟩ they exist potentially in the stars; after the arrival they yield to the extremes of the necessary or the impossible. Each of these, therefore, is bipartite: in the deliberation of the rational soul, and in the composition of nature (‘nature compositione’) for the changes of time.

I, 5.29 (18.618–19.622). Astrological proof.

If Ptolemy or any of the other ⟨astronomers⟩ had observed the planet in a certain position on the circle of its retrogression, or its eccentric circle, and had thus waited until it returned to the same places of both circles, and then renewed the observation, nothing would have ever been completed, nor would the different circles of the planets and the differences between their circles—the absides, direct movements, retrogressions etc—have been grasped.

I, 5.34 (19.653–20.664). Reliance on observation and on Ptolemy’s Almagest.

From this it happens that some people who study this, having neglected the truth of the general wisdom, when they turn to particulars, become for the most part content with a certain set of tables (‘compotus’) with a weak basis (‘radix’)—which results in an increase of error over time—so that, having taken the positions of the planets from this, either through the certain positions of the signs or through the conjunctions of some of the planets determined by reliable instruments, or even by observation, find that the situation is different. Therefore, we enjoin astrologers themselves to disregard the vague and uncertain authority of a particular set of tables (‘compotus’), and to follow as studiously as they can the positions of the wandering and fixed stars with the truth of the complete wisdom which the Almagest confirms with reliable measurements and sophisticated instruments.

II, 1.10 (28.68–78) Hermann’s addition concerning the images of the constellations.

As Abuma‘xar left the reason for the names, the shapes of the constellations, and the fables, to Aratus, so we leave them to both Aratus and Hyginus, from whom also can be sought how many stars make up each constellation. This is not so necessary for our purposes, since we are pursuing the leadership of the heavenly power through the happenings of the lower world and not according to the causes found in fables, but according to necessary effects, especially since imagination rather than the matter itself paints the sky with shapes of this kind. One should not, however, omit what we are going to say in the following when we deal with the properties of the signs—⟨namely⟩ which of these images rise in each decan of the signs. Hence, which stars of the constellations occupy which degrees within the signs are found by an astrolabe, while their natures and effects are dealt with elsewhere.

III, 6.26 (49.463–475). The winds’ effect on the movement of the sea.

The eighth is accidental: namely, how much the winds add to the movements of the water, forced through the great empty space ⟨of the atmosphere⟩ and stirring up the whole ocean. There are two kinds of wind that agitate the whole ocean. One which the deep waves of the sea, when bounced back into an upwards movement by the rocky floor ⟨of the ocean⟩, and hence boiling up from the deepest abysses to the surface, as has been said above, spew out into the open air. The other wind, driven through the upper air, which is common to the dry land and the sea, when it rushes over the surface, and meets with that marine ⟨wind⟩ on the high seas, stirs up furious movements in the ocean. The two-fold blowing of the first kind, only traversing the area of the high seas, rarely reaches the shores; the blasts of the second, blowing from different places, fly round the whole world. For some are principal, others secondary; the principal ones are in the four cardines of the world, the secondary ones are in the middle between these four (cf. Hermann, De essentiis, 65rA).

IV, 4.4c (62.222–226). The distinction between genera and species.

A man and a donkey are ‘indifferently’ animals: neither is more or less an animal, nor in matter is one part the body of a man, the other, of a donkey. But when differences of species have approached ⟨matter⟩, immediately one ⟨body⟩ comes forth two-footed, with his face upright to the stars (= Ovid, Metamorphoses, I.86: ‘erectos ad sidera tollere vultus’), and with a fine reason and intellect, another, four-footed, face down, content with irrational sensation.

IV, 4.6–8 (62.233–241) Hermann introduces the metaphor of conception and birth in paraphrasing a passage on coming-to-be in the sublunar world.

Whatever is born from those (the planets) and these (the elements) responds by its distinctive birth (‘propria generatio’) to the counsel of the action of those and the receptivity (‘passio’) of these. So, when a suitable and perfect birth comes forth from intercourse of such a kind, we conceive (sic!) that those have acted wonderfully well, and these have consented amiably, and we understand that part to be fortunate. But misfortunes occur when nature, abhorring and suffering ⟨the act⟩ unwillingly, either allows an abortion of happy things, or bursts out into unlucky births. The progeny of this kind of coming-to-be (‘genitura’) is threefold: first in the division of species, secondly in that of individuals, thirdly in their properties and accidents.

IV, 8.2 (70.542–547) Hermann brings out the sexual reason for the gender of the planets.

It follows that among the planets, whose nature has been described, there must also be a division of gender. Since, whatever is born in this world, having first been conceived by the coming-together (‘coitus’) of the sexes, then formed in nature, at length comes forth into light as a fully-formed progeny (‘maturus partus’), and the bodies of the planets are the primordial causes of the births (‘generationes’) in this world, it was appropriate that there should be a distinction of gender among the planets themselves.

V, 1.4b (73.27–31) Hermann starts the first chapter of Part V with a poetic flourish which emphasizes the role of the planets as mediators in conveying the power of the signs.

Since the seven planets, midway between heaven and earth, and perpetually circling the universe through the middle orb of the heaven with a continuous movement, have taken up the whole leadership of the entire secular world (reading ‘seculi’ with the majority of the manuscripts) by their anticipatory movements, they seem to administer to the whole world which is subject to them the higher decrees collected from that orb by their circling below it, as if from a treasury of celestial power, by extending the rays of their light as far as it (the earth).

V, 4.2b (76.130–152) The relationship of the Moon to the Sun.

Because of this the Moon is called among the Ancients the planet of the Sun, namely because, while none of the other planets lack the light of another, this borrows whatever light it has from the Sun, deriving almost the whole of its power from the same source. For nothing is made from matter without form, nor does form appear without matter, and matter is the necessity of form, but form is the ornament of matter. Thus, then, since the Moon is like the matter of the Sun, but the Sun is like the form of the Moon, this was the reason that rightly the Moon was called ‘the planet of the Sun’, following the force of the Sun in all its power.

V, 5.4 (78.211–224) A misguided explanation of the origin of the planets’ exaltations.

There are many people of such an impudent madness that, before they know about things, begin to teach about them; while they hold their audience⟨’s attention⟩ with empty words, they are necessarily forced into error; they themselves are led into all kinds of beliefs, while they console their ignorance, and they drag the stupid listener with them. Among this kind are certain people who profess astrology and, having laboured in vain among the most subtle causes of things, have finally given up this labour and find refuge in the single Primordial Cause—the solace of their ignorance. Thus they say that the degrees of the exaltations of the planets are those in which, when the heavens and the stars were first created, the seven planets were first located by God, their Creator. Since those bodies ⟨of the planets⟩ had to occupy some positions at the beginning, the Author chose those which were closest in relation to their nature ⟨and decreed that⟩ they should go forth from these places in their movement for many centuries afterwards, in no more or less than what is now their mean ⟨motion⟩, until, bound to the luminaries, they obtained their houses according to the length of their bond.

V, 8.1 (83.370–377) The preference for the terms of the Egyptians.

If irrefutable reason were brought to bear on this question, only those ⟨terms⟩ that the experiences of long investigation have distributed would not be doubted. Among the things that experience proves, what is most often found to be correct has rightly prevailed. For this reason, among almost all astrologers of different nations the terms of the Egyptians are found to be of most frequent use, because these alone add up altogether to the greater years of the planets, and receive the malefics at the end of the signs, and the benefics especially at the beginning. So, first noting the differences, we shall then set down in order each one of them.

V, 8.9 (84.404–409) The story of Ptolemy’s ‘old book’.

Ptolemy relates that he found the terms which seemed to him to be most correct in a very old volume that, because of the passing of a long period of time, was partly torn apart and lacunose, and partly eaten away by extensive corrosion, and especially made blind by the darkness of years, the name of whose author he had not been able to restore, although he had sought it far and wide, ⟨but⟩, lest he might incur the inconvenience of a vague authority, he omitted them, and set down his own in imitation ⟨of them⟩.[6]

V, 11.2 (85.442–86.464) Hermann’s own account of the origins of astrology.

When virtually all memory of earlier times had been wiped out by the universal Flood which, covering the whole earth, left only a few living souls out of all the nations of the world, wisdom was first born through the study of the movement and power of the stars, first conceived in Chaldea. Then, in the course of time, it gradually grew up and spread into the world. For they narrate that, after the Flood was over, as soon as the waters had returned to their former beds and dry land appeared, Noah, surviving with his sons, when from Armenia he was seeking more temperate airs, arrived at the place where Babylon afterwards rose up. Then, as the world was being reborn, his grandchildren were diffused in the course of time from this centre in all directions, along the Tigris as far as Kascar, and from the Euphrates as far as Kufa. Among them at first, as they say, a son of Shem, whether instructed by an ancestral memory or illumined by the divine gift of his own intelligence, following the courses of the stars, began to wonder at their effects. From this point the study of the following age grew to such an extent that, when from the whole heaven first each and every power both of the parts of the zodiac circle and the planets running below it had been established, they then mixed them together in a certain sharing and understood as much the other shares of the planets as the terms, by taking their beginning from natal horoscopes and continuously measuring the effects of the planets through the revolutions of the years. As the human race grew, afterwards the nations of the world borrowed this wisdom from these ⟨Chaldeans⟩ and, by applying study in accordance with their talents, corrected not a little of it, and expanded it greatly. Among them the subtlety of the nature of the air considerably suited ⟨the science⟩ to the Egpytians.

V, 22.6 (92.660–667) Hermann’s conclusion to Part V.

These are the honours, inconveniences, helps and obstacles of the planets through the ⟨zodiacal⟩ circle, except what also sometimes happens of both kinds to individuals from a mixture ⟨of these⟩. We shall pursue these in their own places as they happen one by one. No one should think that we are ignorant of the fact that, in addition to these things, the Indians use different divisions of the circle and shares (‘dignitates’) of the planets, which are suited to their own practice. Since they are neither suited nor necessary to our kind of judgements, if we pursued them further the punishable fault of prolixity (‘dispendium’) would contaminate our work.

VI, 1.57c (107.473–486) Hermann’s addition at the end of the description of the signs.

These are the inventions of different natures of celestial forms rising over the face of the earth through the whole circle, of which some have been contrived (‘commenta’); others, a strength ⟨felt⟩ through the whole world first brought to notice, partly by an intimate understanding of nature together with long speculation, but the larger number of celestial strengths by divine ⟨agencies⟩, either those familiar to the human race, or those given to human needs as if by some prophecies (‘vaticinia’). The latter kind brought forth first the Persian and Indian inventions (‘figmenta’), since it was easy for those who penetrated to the inner efficacy of the stars with their sight. For ⟨the strengths⟩ that Ptolemy and the Greeks describe, as the consideration of the sphere first arranged, so now it also easily corrects through different books. When the Persians first noticed this kind of thing in the zodiac circle, when the spring of wisdom divided into two, on that side the Indians, seized by higher intelligence, rose higher, on this side the Greeks, following the Egyptians, sinking down in the sidereal region, adapted distinguishable intervals of the stars to their myths. Hence the necessary knowledge of the latter for measuring the motions of the stars; of the former for summoning the strengths of the stars.

VI, 9 (114.713–115.756) Hermann adds his own geographical division of the world, which includes general (large) divisions and special subdivisions, followed by names of people.

Our geographers first divide the world into three parts: they lead Asia from the rise of the Sun between each Ocean, ⟨eastern and⟩ western towards the Mediterranean Sea. From here beginning Europe and Africa, they place the borders of Europe between the Mediterranean Sea and the Northern Ocean with the Islands of Cádiz in the West. They delineate Africa between the Mediterrean Sea and the Southern Ocean with the Atlas Mountain in the West.

There are 15 generic divisions of Asia: India, Parthia, Mesopotamia, Syria, after this Pentapolis Maior, Egypt, Sores, Bactria, Scythia Minor, Hircania, Albania, Armenia, both Hibernias, Cappadocia, finally Asia Minor. Of these there are specific subdivisions: part of India is eastern Ethiopia. Parthia has five: Tigria, Aracusia, Assyria, Media, Persia. Mesopotamia, three: Babylonia, Chaldea, Arabia, whose parts are two: Nabatea and Sabea. Syria has three: Commagene, Phoenicia, whose two parts are Tyre and Sidon. Then Palestine, whose parts are four: Judea, Samaria, Galilee and Palestine. Asia Minor has ten parts: Bythinia or Migdonia, Galacia, Phrygia, Licaonia, Karia, Lydia or Meonia, Pamphilia, Hysauria, Cilicia and Licia.

There are ten generic parts of Europe: Greater Scythia, Germany, then Misia, Thrace, Greece, Pannonia, Istria, Italy, Gaul, Spain. Of these Scythia has three subdivisions: Alania, Dacia and Gotia; Germany two: Alamannia and Teutonica: Thrace, two: Norica and Rhetica; Greece, eight: Dalmatia, Epirus, Illiria or Dardania, Attica, which has two parts: Boecia and the Peloponese, then Thessaly whose two parts are Pieria and Arcadia. Then Macedonia, Achaia and Lacedemonia. Istria has three parts: maritima and mountainous, ⟨and⟩ in the middle our homeland Carinthia. Italy has four: Tuscany, Etruria, Apulia and Campania. Gaul has three: Belgica, Rethia and Aquitania.

Africa has seven parts: Libya Minor, Pitacium or Zengis, Cathage, Numidia, Getulia, Mauritania, western Ethiopia. Libya Minor has three parts: Cirenea (Cirenaica), Pentapolis Minor and Tripolis. Mauritania two: Sicinensis and Tigertina (Tingitana).

Among and around all these parts diverse other nations live scattered through the world: Icciophagi, Panfigi, Barbari, Trog⟨l⟩oditi, Slavi, Vandals, Scots, Brittons, and other races of this kind, living in places throughout the world, whether islands, mountains, swamps, sandy areas etc. Of all theses there are innumerable subdivisions determined each by its nations and different in the words of their languages. For, for all of them there are different words following their different languages. Therefore it is impossible to adapt these ⟨languages⟩ from Arabic ⟨proper⟩ names to Latin names, unless they are first known by determination, especially when this division is not made with any order but with some scattered comments. For neither Abuma‘xar nor any other author has distributed them among the lordships of the signs except in a scattered way and by name only. Therefore we have of necessity added ⟨our division⟩ so that places and boundaries can be recognized from names, and if we fall short in this, any studious person, taking hold of this, may have a way of learning it.

VII, 4.21–22 (135.300–311). Hermann on mixture.

Since some liquids are of a mixing nature, others antisocial, in the latter there is ‘conjunction’, as of water and oil, in the former, ‘commixture’ as when a certain middle thing is brought forth from water and wine. Whenever two things of different kinds are united with each other, and the one infects the nature of the other by mutual insertion, this is ‘commixture’ or ‘confection’, producing a certain third thing. But for things of the same kind neither ‘commixture’ nor ‘confection’ produces any middle thing, but adding or ‘aggregation’ increases them, like water coming together with water, flames with flames, seeds with seeds and roots with roots of the same kind, and so on. Since nothing like this happens in celestial things—for they neither touch each other, nor are inserted into one another so that some single thing is heaped up—but when qualities are mixed from a lawful (‘legitimus’) intercourse, it follows that from the coldness of the one, the heat of the other is tempered, and vice versa.

VII, 5.1 (135.314–318). Hermann introduces the 21 conditions of the planets.

Some authors, by arranging them by genera, others by species, vary the number of the conditions of the planets. Thus, Abuma‘xar, while he writes ‘25’ elsewhere [referring to the Abbreviation of the Introduction to Astrology, chapter 4], here writes ‘21’, but we, remembering our Cicero, since, having proposed the genus, we have not been accustomed to number the species in the same list, enumerate 18 with the character of genera, subdividing them by species, as the custom is.

VIII, 1.4 (149.11–19) Hermann’s introduction to Part VIII.

The sequence of material of the whole contains the reasoning for every planetary and stellar virtue. The final Part contains another leadership and secondary virtue of the celestial power, which derives not from the bodies of the planets and stars, but is drawn from them as the principal leaders by a necessary consequence. For the whole of Antiquity agreed on these three leaders: first the planets, secondly the signs, and thirdly the lots of both of them, arranged through the circle. The first two of these deal with the first affairs of the life of the soul and body; the third comes to assist the first two in an accidental way, although some of the Ancients missed out the first two altogether, and followed the authority of the third alone in every matter.

VIII, 3.5 (152.125–129) Hermann’s clarification of the calculation of a lot.

E.g. when Cancer is rising in the fourth clime, Leo by number is always the place of wealth, but Cancer is sometimes that by calculation. When this happens, one takes ⟨the measurement⟩ for that matter from the Moon to the second ⟨place⟩ in Cancer, ⟨so the Moon⟩ there is simultaneously lord of the ascendant and of the second place, and one does not ⟨take the measurement⟩ to the Sun, the lord of Leo.

VIII, 6 (167.673–679) Hermann’s excuse for missing out this chapter.

Here Abu Ma‘xar does what many others do, whether to give a lot to read, or to satisfy those who are less diligent: repeating the entire list of lots from the beginning, he starts again with the way they are found and their three-fold origin. Lest too much kindness provides too much prolixity, we, as if doing nothing, have thought it good to pass over this, since it brings nothing new or different from what has already been said. For, if anyone thinks otherwise, I think he should make an effort to resort to an exemplar written in its own language (a gloss adds ‘Arabic’). Thus we pass on to what follows.