Introduction

1

The Life and Works of Abū Maʿšar

Abū Maʿšar Ǧaʿfar ibn Muḥammad ibn ʿUmar al-Balḫī (in Greek Ἀπομάσαρ; in Latin Gafar Abumasar Albalaghi and Abuma‘xar Albalachi) was the best-known astrologer of the Middle Ages.[1] He was born in Balḫ, in the Eastern Persian province of Ḫurāsān (now in Afghanistan) in AD 787 and died in al-Wāsiṭ in central Iraq in AD 886.[2] He apparently spent most of his life in Baghdad, where he lived by the Ḫurāsān Gate. We have Persian versions (or titles) for some of his writings, but he may not have been responsible for writing any of these himself; his principal literary medium was Arabic, which he wrote fluently and prolifically. Nevertheless, he retained his allegiance to the Persian cause; he used Persian astronomical tables, he gave currency to an account of the history of science that privileged the Persian contribution in his Book of the Thousands,[3] and he was familiar with members of the Ḫurāsānian Barmakid family. According to Ibn an-Nadīm he was a student of Islamic tradition (ḥadīṯ) until, at the age of 47 (ca. AD 834), he was tricked into studying arithmetic and geometry by the ‘Philosopher of the Arabs’, al-Kindī, and subsequently turned to the science of the stars.[4] An arithmetical work, on amicable numbers, is attributed to him,[5] and some of the contents of his astronomical tables (Zīǧ al-Hazārāt—retaining the Persian word for ‘thousands’), can be recovered.[6] He is also credited with having written on the star-worshipping rituals of the Ḥarrānian Ṣābi’ans.[7]

All the other texts attributed to him are on the subject of astrology. These consist of three major works: (1) The Introduction to Astrology (k. al-mudḫal ilā ʿilm aḥkām an-nuǧūm, the subject of this book); (2) The Book of Religions and Dynasties (k. al-milal wa-d-duwal, sometimes attributed to his student, Ibn al-Bāzyār), also known as ‘On Conjunctions’ (k. fi l-Qirānāt), concerning the effects on whole nations, on dynasties and on rulership, of conjunctions of the superior planets, and of other celestial phenomena;[8] (3) The Book on the Revolutions of the Years of the Nativities (k. fī taḥāwīl sinī l-mawālīd), which details the process of casting horoscopes for the birthdays of clients and deriving information for the following year by comparing these horoscopes with the birth horoscopes.[9] Other texts summarize or re-arrange the subject matter of these major works, or deal with the remaining principal branches of astrology: natal horoscopes, choices, questions, and weather forecasting. Fuat Sezgin lists forty-four extant works. But several more are still to be identified, including, in the Great Introduction alone, a book on the details on the indications of the fixed stars,[10] a book on the degrees which indicate desire and an excess of love-making,[11] the reasons for the periods of time called the fardars,[12] a book on the disagreement of the astrologers concerning the casting of rays,[13] as well as his astronomical tables, which he calls Zīǧ al-kabīr or Zīǧ al-Hazārāt.

His student, Abū Saʿīd Šāḏān ibn Baḥr, wrote down conversations he had with his teacher (Dialogues on the Science of the Stars; Muḏākarāt fī ʿilm an-nuǧūm), which include many anecdotes concerning his teacher’s activity. Among these are Abū Maʿšar’s observation of a comet above Venus (perhaps the supernova of 827), his being beaten by the common people because he had correctly foretold the destruction of a caravanserai, and his interpretation of various horoscopes, including those of al-Kindī and of an Indian prince born in 826.[14] It is to the Greek translation of these Dialogues on the Science of the Stars that substantial portions of Abū Maʿšar’s Great Introduction to Astrology were added, together with other material, to form the Mysteria.[15]

Abū Maʿšar purports to be the revealer of a common heritage of ancient wisdom, which was passed down through different nations by a succession of three Hermes (the first in Egypt before the flood, identified with the Iranian Hūshank and with the Semitic Enoch-Idrīs, the second in Babylonia, the third, the Classical Hermes Trismegistos, in Egypt again).[16] In this way he can justify the syncretic nature of his writings which draw from ancient Greek astrology (especially Ptolemy’s Tetrabiblos, Dorotheus’s Carmen Astrologicum, Vettius Valens’s Anthologiae, and a text on astrological lots attributed to Hermes), either directly or through Middle Persian (Sasanian) sources; from Middle Persian astrology (largely mediated through his Persian and Indian predecessors at the Abbasid court, Zādān Farrūḫān al-Andarzaġar, Māšā’allāh, ʿUmar ibn al-Farruḫān and Kankah al-Hindī), from which he derived his theory of the great conjunctions of Saturn and Jupiter and cycles of 1,000 years; and from Indian astrology (usually mediated via Persian), which is the ultimate source of much of the astronomical tables of the Sindhind, the images of the decans (thirds of a sign), the division of a sign into nine parts (the nawbahrāt), weather-forecasting by means of lunar mansions, and Indian (‘Arabic’) numerals.[17] An example of this eclecticism is his astronomical parameters, in which he uses Indian values for the mean motions of the planets, a set of Persian astrological tables (the Zīǧ aš-Šāh) for the prime meridian, and a Ptolemaic planetary model. He could be regarded as the first astrologer to fully integrate Greek and Persian traditions of astrology. His use of Aristotle’s works on logic and natural science, unusual in an astrologer, may be due to his association with al-Kindī, and to his knowledge of the Neoplatonic literature of the star-worshipping Ṣābi’ans of Ḥarrān, but he was also aware of a Greek chronicle by Annianus,[18] medical texts (e.g. Hippocrates, Airs, Waters, Places and De Hebdomadibus), and geographical texts.[19] Finally, he claims to have consulted experts first hand, such as midwives, farmers, and ‘mariners of the eastern region’ (Great Introduction, III, 6.15).

Abū Maʿšar was criticized for plagiarism (Ibn an-Nadīm reports a rumour that Sanad ibn ʿAlī, the director of the Baghdad observatory, was the true author of the three major works listed above)[20] and his writings were often referred to as turgid and prolix.[21] Nevertheless, his influence on subsequent Arabic astrologers was immense. While most of the text of his own Abbreviation of the Introduction to Astrology is taken directly from the Great Introduction, the texts of Arabic astrologers, such as al-Qabīṣī’s Introduction to Astrology, large sections of al-Bīrūnī’s Tafhīm and Ibn Abi r-Riǧāl’s k. al-Bāriʿ are copied from Abū Maʿšar’s work. But he was also influential beyond the sphere of astrology. His prediction of the end of Arabic rule (The Book of Religions and Dynasties, II, 8 and in the Dialogues) parallels a similar account by al-Kindī, and was influential in later Arabic writings—e.g. those of Ḥamzatu l-Iṣfahānī and Ibn Ḫaldūn (Muqaddima, III, ch. 52) and his account of tides and differences between the seas of the world was evidently taken up by Ibn Rustah, Ibn al-Faqīh, al-Masʿūdī and al-Bakrī.[22]

When Latin scholars began to be interested in Arabic astrology, it was Abū Maʿšar’s texts that they chose. Adelard of Bath found a copy of his Abbreviation of the Introduction to Astrology (which had a rather limited diffusion in the Arabic world), and translated it, probably in the 1120s.[23] A scholar who knew Adelard’s translation and moved in his circles (the School of Chartres), namely Hermann of Carinthia,[24] did not take long to find and translate the Greater Introduction, which he entitled ‘Introductorium in Astrologiam Abuma‘xar albalachi’, in Northeast Spain or Southern France in 1140. But meanwhile another translator in Spain, Johannes Hispalensis atque Limiensis, had made another translation of the work, as the first of a corpus of astrological texts by Abū Maʿšar. This was probably made in 1133, but remained unknown (or at least unacknowledged) to Hermann, who seems to have used a different Arabic manuscript.[25]

Hermann deliberately uses a humanistic Latin style, which reflects his own knowledge of the Classics and that of his learned contemporaries, and his translation, in its earliest manuscripts, accompanies classical Latin cosmological texts.[26] John of Seville, on the other hand, follows the Arabic text closely, and is largely responsible for establishing the technical terms and ‘translation style’ of the Latin of medieval astrology that differs markedly from the cultured Latin of the schools. Moreover, the terminology is remarkably different between the two texts. Above all, Hermann extracts the gist of the Arabic text, and puts it into his own words, but sometimes follows the Arabic closely, especially when Abū Maʿšar is quoting Hermes.[27] John of Seville translated several more of Abū Maʿšar’s works, including the Book of Religions and Dynasties (under the title De magnis coniunctionibus), the Flowers,[28] the Book of Experiments, and at least a partial translation of the Arabic original version of the Book on the Revolutions of the Years of the Nativities.[29] Hermann apparently refers to his own translation of the latter text, as ‘Abumaixar in Annalibus’,[30] but a translation of the first five books, from Greek, was subsequently made by Stephen of Messina,[31] while translations of Abū Maʿšar’s On Choices and other texts remain anonymous. Thus Abumasar (with the common variants Albumasar, Albumazar, Albumassar and Albumaxar), became well known in the West through Latin translations, some of which in turn were translated into European vernaculars.

2

The Great Introduction to Astrology

a

The Title

The Arabic manuscripts of the Great Introduction are unanimous in calling the work ‘The Introduction to Astrology’ in the reference to the ‘name of the book’ in the prefatory matter (I, 1.12) and in the colophon (VIII, 9.4). When the work is translated into Latin, within the prefatory matter (I, 1.12) John of Seville names the work ‘Liber introductorius ad scientiam iudiciorum’, while Hermann of Carinthia gives the name of the work as ‘Introductorium in astrologiam’.[32] In the Arabic text of the Abbreviation the title is still ‘The Introduction to the Science of the Judgements of the Stars’. But in this case the Latin translator, Adelard of Bath, adds ‘greater’: ‘in Ysagoga Maiore’ (which is symmetrical with his title of the Abbreviation: ‘Ysagoga Minor’). ‘Greater’ is added to the title of John’s translation at the beginning and in the colophon (‘Maior introductorius’), while most of the manuscripts of Hermann’s version call the work ‘Liber introductorius’ or ‘Introductorium’.[33] In the Fihrist of Ibn an-Nadīm, however, two works are named: ‘k. al-mudḫal aṣ-ṣaġīr’ (‘the small introduction’) and ‘k. al-mudḫal al-kabīr’ (‘the large introduction’), presumably referring to the Abbreviation and the Great Introduction respectively.[34] The Arabic manuscripts are divided in adding ‘kabīr’ (‘great’) to the title or omitting it. There is no consistency in adding ‘kabīr’ in the same manuscript. The occurrance of ‘kabīr’ is indicated by ∗ in the following table. Even in case of the individual Parts consistency is not found.

 

Manuscripts

C

P

O

B

L

T

S

R

H

N

D

E

Beginning of the MS

∗

∗

Beginning of the Part

∗

∗

Colophon

∗

∗

Since it has become traditional to refer to the work as the ‘Great Introduction to Astrology’, as its size and importance merits, this title has been adopted here. The Arabic manuscripts do not tell us whether Madḫal or Mudḫal should be read. The first follows the construction for the place of the action of the root d–ḫ–l ‘to enter’ and is regularly used for an entry hall or vestibule; the second is the verbal noun of the fourth form of the verb daḫala, meaning ‘to make enter’ or ‘to introduce’.

b

Date of Composition

Abū Maʿšar clearly states that the positions of the stars at the time of writing The Great Introduction correspond to the date 1160 of the epoch of Alexander. This corresponds to 1 October 848 to 30 September 849.[35]

Lemay considered that six of the eight manuscripts known to him presented a version that was revised by Abū Maʿšar himself, on the basis of a note in MS Halet Effendi 541 stating that Abū Maʿšar had written a new copy of the work in his own hand in 263 A.H. (AD 876).[36] The differences, however, do not seem to be considerable enough to constitute a ‘revision’.[37]

c

The Contents and Sources

The following account of the contents of the Great Introduction takes into consideration the differences between the Arabic, and the Greek and two Latin translations.[38] The Great Introduction consists of eight Parts (qawl, tractatus, liber), each divided into a number of chapters (faṣl, differentia, capitulum). The contents of the eight Parts are summarized in the subsection of the prefatory matter devoted to the ‘divisions of the book’ (I, 1.15–23), and the chapters of each Part are listed at the beginning of each Part.[39]

The book begins with a pious formula in praise of God in the Arabic. This has been retained by John (except for the sentence referring to Muḥammad) but omitted by Hermann. After the list of chapter headings of the first Part Abū Maʿšar then provides a preface which justifies the necessity for such a book in view of the inadequacy of previous books on astrology; in particular no book has adequately confirmed with rational arguments the validity of astrology and the effects of the stars. This is what Abū Maʿšar promises to do. But first of all he introduces the seven headings that have to be considered before reading a book: the aim of the book; its benefit; the name of the author; the name of the book; at what stage in learning should the book be studied; does it belong to theory or practice? What are its divisions? Hermann substitutes the five headings typical of the Latin tradition.[40]

The second chapter (the first chapter in Hermann’s translation) proves that the science of astrology has a real existence. It shares its topics, and several of its arguments, with Ptolemy, Tetrabiblos, I, cc. 1 (on the two divisions of the science of the stars) and 2 (‘that knowledge by astronomical means is attainable, and how far’).[41] Abū Maʿšar (in chapter 2) starts by defining the two species of the science concerning the stars. The first is astronomy (‘the science of the universe’ or ‘of the whole’) on which Abū Maʿšar refers his readers to another large book by him on astronomical tables (az-zīǧ al-kabīr) whose contents he describes,[42] whilst crediting Ptolemy’s Almagest as being more comprehensive. It is said to rely on the mathematical sciences of arithmetic, geometry and surveying. The second is astrology (here simply called ‘the science of judgements’—ʿilm al-aḥkām; scientia iudiciorum), which is more akin to ‘natures’[43] and is derived from the first science. Hermann more simply states that the first science is the mathematical one; the second the natural one, and they differ by the first being devoted to the movement of the celestial bodies, the second to the effects of those movements. Both sciences are based partly on observable phenomena, partly on drawing conclusions by reason or analogy (qiyās, experimentum, ratio). Abū Maʿšar does not add a corresponding reference to Ptolemy’s Tetrabiblos, and is critical of this work later on.

Observable phenomena provide the arguments for confirming astrology, such as the Sun’s movement and alteration bringing about the cycle of the seasons, and the changes during the day and night, first as experienced by animals (2.6),[44] then by plants (2.7) and minerals (2.8); the Moon’s movement and increase and decrease on the tides; the conception and birth of animals, and the pollination of plants; and the planets’ role in varying the temperature of the seasons. Abū Maʿšar next appeals to the practitioners of different professions: agriculturists, stock-breeders, and sailors, all of whom predict from the course of the stars as to when to sow or plant, or mate animals, or take to the sea. It is in respect to this ‘popular’ astrology that Abū Maʿšar refers to the 28 mansions of the Moon, which are absent from the rest of his work.[45] They are successful in this because of the length of their experience. But other people make predictions that are not based on the stars; in particular, midwives (2.18), for whom Abū Maʿšar gives a series of very detailed criteria by which can be determined whether the woman is pregnant, the sex of the fetus, whether the next child will be male, and how many children the mother will give birth to. These give the impression of being taken directly from Abū Maʿšar’s experience of midwives in his society.[46] Herdsmen can make similar predictions about their sheep and other animals (2.22). The profession that comes closest to astrology in prediction, however, is that of doctors, especially the intelligent kind, who are concerned with the ‘natures’ (elements) that are directly influenced by the movement of the stars (2.23). But the subject matter of medicine is terrestrial, concerning evanescent things, whereas the subject of astrology is universal and celestial.[47] Human error is usually responsible for mistakes in prediction, whatever the field.

The third chapter explains exactly how celestial influences operate. It begins like a new treatise, returning to the question of the intention of the book, which is articulated as ‘an account of the indications of the planets for the things that come to be and pass away in this world’. The fundamental questions to be asked about anything are: Does it exist (hal huwa mawǧūd, utrum sit inventa)? What is it (mā huwa, quid sit)? How is it (kayfa huwa, qualis)? Why is it (limā huwa, quare)? Applied to the stars, these questions are briefly answered: the stars obviously exist, their essence is a quintessence, they are spherical, luminous bodies, moving naturally, and their purpose is to produce changes in sublunar bodies. The natural connection (ittiṣāl, coniunctio) in Abū Maʿšar and John of Seville becomes in Hermann of Carinthia a necessity by which the lower world is bound (ligatus) to the higher.

Abū Maʿšar’s text overlaps and interweaves several different explanations for the efficacy of this ‘connection’:

-      The heating of the elements in the lower world caused by the movement of the stars, which softens them up, and makes them more malleable to movement (3.3). This heating, which is omitted by Hermann, is reminiscent of the theory of al-Kindī.[48]

-      The movement of the heavens causes the movements of the sublunar elements, because the former is perfect, circular and without end, whereas the latter are straight and have beginnings and endings.

-      Change is potentially in the sublunar elements, and this change is brought to actuality by the movement of the heavens (3.4).

-      The following at a distance of one thing by another is because of the property (Hermann gives intrinseca proprietas) of one thing to move the other, and of the other to be susceptible to that movement: such as a magnet drawing iron towards it (3.5).

-      The natural ‘resulting’ of one thing from another, which Abū Maʿšar carefully distinguishes from ‘effect’, such as the movement of soul and body resulting from the music of a skilled singer, or fear and trepidation from the sight of the beloved (3.7).

Each of these explanations is natural. In no case is volition involved. The only element of will is that of God, who is identified with the First Cause, and worthy to be blessed and exalted greatly (3.8).

Just as Abū Maʿšar started the third chapter with four categories of existence, so he starts the fourth chapter with four categories of composition: 1) ‘form’, as the definer of each individual; 2) ‘nature’, as one of the four elements, fire, air, water and earth; 3) ‘natural composition’ as the action of putting together each individual into a unit (Hermann would talk in terms of a ‘harmonia’); and 4) the ‘natured thing’ as the individual which results from this action. The individual in itself shows all four categories, in reverse order: existence, composition, the ‘natures’ and the form, here called ‘species’ (There are no transcendental forms).[49] But for composition to take place, a composer is necessary, and has to be external to the matters that are composed.

All this is very Aristotelian.[50] Abū Maʿšar raises the discourse to the level of providential language: ‘God the Creator, blessed and exalted, gave to the stars natural indications and movements’ (4.6). The result is 1) the composition of ‘natured things’; 2) the differentiation between species; and 3) the harmony of the animal soul and the body. The Sun is particularly powerful in this respect, especially over the harmony of the soul and the body. The Great Introduction then takes on a Platonic tone, with the forms acting as craftsmen and the elements as their tools, different elements being chosen for different animals (4.8–9). Continuing with symmetries, the elements have three properties: 1) being contrary to one another, 2) changing into one another, and 3) increasing and decreasing, since they operate through rarefaction and condensation, or through changes in their qualities. Forms have the opposite properties: 1) they are not contrary to each other, 2) nor changing into each other, 3) nor increasing and decreasing (4.12). An individual having both elements and form accepts contraries, change, and increase and decrease from the stars (with God’s permission). Abū Maʿšar collapses together the Platonic ‘form’ (ṣūra) and the Aristotelian ‘species’ (nawʿ),[51] and their equivalence is reflected by the way that John of Seville translates both words as ‘species’ while Hermann translates both as ‘forma’. Thus every individual can be viewed from four different aspects: 1) as an individual within a species; 2) as a composition of four elements; 3) as determined by the property of its form together with that of the elements; 4) as influenced by the stars. The last thing mentioned is the agreement of the animal and rational soul within the body: all these conditions come about by ‘the indication of the power of the movements of the stars’, movements which the Creator has endowed them with.

Examples are given of the proper indications of each of the planets, and of the indications shared with other planets (the word ‘indication’—dalāla, significatio, ducatus—is now firmly established), first in respect to man (4.15), then in respect to plants and minerals (4.16). The chapter ends by differentiating between those individuals resulting from a seed or a graft of its own species (animals and plants), and those arising by spontaneous generation from the elements (animals, plants and minerals), and finishes with the suggestion that the latter phenomenon derives directly from God (4.18).

The fifth chapter confirms astrology by refuting ten kinds of argument against it:

-      That the planets have no influence on anything below the sphere of the Moon. The refutation resumes the argument in the second chapter that a less perfect movement cannot be the cause of a more perfect movement; therefore the circular movement, which is more perfect because it has no beginning or end, must be the cause of direct movements and changes which have beginnings and endings. A moral tone is gratuitously introduced (causing a thing to come to be is ‘praiseworthy’; causing it to pass away is ‘blameworthy’) and is conveniently omitted by Hermann (5.2–3).

-      That the planets indicate universal things, like the four elements, and genera and species, but not individuals or parts of individuals. But since all these universal things exist in every individual, and since species do not exist other than in individuals, then the planets must influence individuals too (5.4–6).

-      That the planets cannot indicate the contingent. Astrological prediction only concerns the contingent (one does not consult an astrologer to discover whether fire will burn or snow will be cold), and therefore if nothing is contingent, astrology is null and void. This is the most philosophical of the arguments, and relates most closely to whether astrology is deterministic (all things will necessarily take place), which Abū Maʿšar denies. This is the one objection to astrology that is attributed to a historical group, but there is variation in the Arabic manuscripts as to who this group is: ahl an-naẓar wa-l-ǧadal or Mutazilites according to one tradition; ahl al-ḥadīṯ wa-n-naẓar or traditionalists, according to another; the Latin translations imply the former.[52] Abū Maʿšar rehearses ‘the Philosopher’s (i.e. Aristotle’s) words,[53] that not everything has to be necessary or impossible, but that some things are contingent (could go either way), giving four different arguments for contingency, and three different ways in which a thing can be contingent. He then speaks in his own voice, in explaining how the planets indicate the necessary, the impossible and the contingent. In the course of doing this Abū Maʿšar claims that the stars themselves have rational souls (5.18a) which links them to man; for both stars and men are faced with the necessary, the impossible and the contingent. A human being has the possibility of choosing, which arises from the confrontation of his rational soul with his animal soul; the stars determine that relationship between the two parts of his soul; therefore, the man will choose what the stars indicate.[54] This section ends with the differentiation between the stars—which have rational souls, but no need to make choices—and man, who has a rational soul which he uses to makes choices—and animals, which do not have rational souls, and therefore do not make choices (5.7–21).

-      The fourth category are the astronomers who believe that stars only effect the changes of the seasons. Abū Maʿšar refutes this by re-stating the close relation of astrology to astronomy and that one cannot study the one without the other (5.23–24).

-      The fifth are astronomers who nullify astrology on the grounds that no one has the length of experience necessary to verify whether the repeat of the same configuration of the stars has the same effect. However, astrologers can rely on the experience accumulated by many generations of their predecessors, and can make deductions from analogy (5.25–31).

-      The sixth are arithmeticians, who are sticklers for accuracy in numbers, and find that different astronomical tables give different values for the positions of the planets. Abū Maʿšar counters this argument by saying that number-counting is not the most important part of astrology. The arithmetician gathering together numerous astronomical values, is like the pharmacist collecting numerous herbs; he is merely serving the astrol­oger, as the pharmacist is serving the doctor. If the astronomer, in his calculations, is the arithmetician, and if he gets the wrong values, it is not the astrologer who is to blame. If he sticks to Ptolemy’s values in the Almagest or, better, uses Ptolemy’s instruments (described in Almagest, V, 1) and observes the positions of the stars directly, he will not make a mistake (5.32–34).

-      The seventh are those who criticize astrology out of spite: they are not able to attain mastery in the subject, so they call sour grapes (5.35–36).

-      The eighth are mercenary doctors (not true doctors, who know the value of astrology), who substitute ‘the coming first of profit’ for ‘the coming first of knowledge’ (the Arabic phrase for ‘prognosis’). These are the kind of doctor who specialise in only one aspect of their profession, and disparage those aspects that they don’t know anything about (including astrology). Abū Maʿšar quotes the well-known phrase of Hippocrates ‘that the science of the stars is not a small part of the science of medicine’[55] to emphasize that doctors have always needed to be knowledgeable in astrology. The co-operation of the doctor and the astrologer is essential, e.g. if the astrologer predicts that the patient’s life is coming to an end, the doctor is not obliged to treat him (5.37–39).

-      Finally, we come to the general populace, who either (ninth category) do not value any scientist except the one who has money, or (tenth category) judge astrology from the incompetency of the practitioners of astrology, the majority of whom are ignorant (5.40–42).

Thus, having dealt with the criticisms of philosophers and theologians, astron­omers, mathematicians, failed astrologers, doctors, and the common crowd, Abū Maʿšar ends the chapter by enjoining those who want to increase the reputation of astrology to learn the art thoroughly, and enjoy the satisfaction that its mastery can bring.

The sixth chapter takes up the topic of the third chapter of the first book of Ptolemy’s Tetrabiblos: that astrology is beneficial. Abū Maʿšar picks up, first, the claim that, even if prediction is possible, future events will necessarily occur, and therefore knowledge in advance cannot change the situation. However, he points out that harmful events in the future can be divided into five kinds: 1) the first is an event that affects the people as a whole; 2) the second is an individual harm which a man can totally avoid; 3) the third harm he can partially avoid; 4) the fourth will occur, but it has limited duration; 5) the fifth he cannot avoid at all.[56] In respect to each kind it is advantageous to know in advance that the events may occur: whether to take precautions to lessen or do away with their harm altogether, or to make preparations for their inevitable onset (e.g. to put one’s affairs in order if one knows one is going to die). People naturally do this all the time, even if they deny astrology. Moreover, all people worry in anticipation of an activity, but this should not stop them from (for example) travelling or meeting somebody. Rather one’s anticipation should be well-informed by the astrologer. The foreknowledge of pleasant things produces a pleasure that continues up to the time of the event, which is akin to the pleasure of listening to singing or instrumental music—but even greater, since the music stops (6.18). Foreknowledge is naturally used by the common people and by doctors, but the foreknowledge of astrologers is the most reliable.

Part II begins the portion of the Great Introduction devoted to the reasons for the fundamentals of astrological doctrines. It is here that Abū Maʿšar reports the doctrine of the ancient wise men, and their conformity with the providence and will of God. Hence, the constant repetition of ‘they thought … they considered’ or ‘we say … and the Ancients say’, or, more actively ‘they made such and such, such and such’, with the corollary that ‘such and such became such and such’.[57] This portion extends through Parts two, three and four.

Part II is on the fixed stars and the signs of the zodiac through which they are distributed.[58] Ptolemy’s Almagest is taken as the starting-point: first, for the assertion that the earth is the size of a point in comparison to the circle (Almagest, I, 6); secondly, that there are 1022 fixed stars (Almagest, VII–VIII), which have a slow movement of 1 degree in 100 years (Almagest, VII. 4) (1.4). The six categories of the magnitudes of the stars (1.6), and the names of their constellations (1.7–9) ultimately derive from the star-table in Almagest, VII–VIII, and Abū Maʿšar’s constellation-names are closest to those of the translation of al-Haǧǧāǧ.[59]

Abū Maʿšar refers to another book of his for the ‘indications of the constellations’, which has not been identified. The subject matter might be hinted at in the next chapter (chapter 2) where Abū Maʿšar states that the 36 constellations that are not in the zodiac ‘hold particular indications’; these are not described in the Great Introduction. This second chapter gives the reasons why the Ancients picked out 12 constellations for special attention—being ranged round the zodiac belt. The contrast between universal indications, which indicate species, and particular indications, which indicate individuals, is a leitmotif of this chapter. The signs of the zodiac have universal indications, and the predominant role of the Sun in coming-to-be and passing-away, privileges its path through the sky. The 360 degrees into which the Ancients divided the zodiac belt also is most appropriate because they can be divided into many factors, and are close to the number of days in a solar year (2.9). The third chapter explains why the number 12 was chosen. The crucial reason was that all generation arises from four elements and exhibits three conditions: beginning, middle and end. The signs do not indicate change of elements in themselves, but only through rising and setting and through the planets being in them. The word for element used here is ‘rukn’ (literally ‘angle’) and fire, air, water and earth are specifically described as ‘composite elements’ (arkān murakkaba). These composite elements are distributed through the 12 signs in the order fire, earth, air and water, repeated three times, and each sign exhibits a different condition of each of the elements, ranging from generating, through being temperate, to corrupting (3.5–8). The chapter ends with a panegyric on the wonders of nature (omitted by Hermann).

The unexpected order of signs set down by the Ancients (fire, earth, air and water) is explained in chapter 4. Here Abū Maʿšar states clearly that fire, air, water and earth are the ‘composite elements’, of which the simple elements are the qualities hot, moist, cold and dry. But a simple element dominates in each of the compound ones: heat in fire, dry in earth, wet in air, and cold in water. For the life-cycle heat (i.e. fire) should come first, and cold (i.e. water) should come last.

The reasons for Aries to be the first sign (even though in a circle, strictly speaking, nothing comes first)[60] are given in chapter 5. Here the elemental order is different: air (spring), fire (summer), earth (autumn) and water (winter), but the triplet, beginning, middle and end, is retained. This explains the existence of the tropical, fixed and bicorporeal signs (chapter 6) which in turn preside over the beginning of a season, its establishment, and its mixing with the following season.

At this point Abū Maʿšar inserts a chapter (chapter 7) from one of the ‘Ancients’—Hermes, drawing from Ġāṯīdīmūn (Agathodaimon)—bringing together into one world-view the topics of the previous four chapters. The syntax changes correspondingly from ‘they said/they made’ to ‘we know/we have established’. Hermann, out of respect for this authority, promises to reproduce the words of Hermes exactly, rather than to paraphrase, as he has been doing with the words of Abū Maʿšar in general. The source of Abū Maʿšar’s quotation has not been identified, but it is not likely that he made it up. It is, however, difficult to gauge its extent. Perhaps it ends at the end of 7.5, since the opinion of other astrologers is referred to in 7.6. Here is raised the apparent incongruity that Aries is the first sign of the spring quadrant, which is hot and wet, but is, in itself, hot and dry.

The alternating of masculine and feminine signs is the topic of the next chapter (chapter 8), in which two orders are observed: according to the fixed natures of the signs, from Aries (masculine), through Taurus (feminine) to Pisces (feminine); and according to the accidental positions of the signs on the ecliptic: ascendant (masculine), second place (feminine) … twelfth place (feminine). The last chapter deals with the alternating of diurnal and nocturnal signs from Aries onwards.

Part III is devoted to the reasons for the doctrines concerning the planets, focusing on the Sun and the Moon.[61] It starts with the question of why only seven stars were chosen for general indications. Abū Maʿšar distinguishes between the indications of the elements through the signs (the subject of the previous book), and the indications of the products of the elements through the fixed stars and the planets. But while the fixed stars, by their very fixedness, indicate particular things that are slow in coming-to-be and passing-away, the planets, because of the swiftness and variety of their movements, indicate general things, of quick generation and corruption. Because astrology is specifically about the power of the movements of the planets, the definition of astrology and the astrologer is added here (chapter 2). Astrology is ‘knowledge of what the power of the movements of the stars at a specific time indicates for that time and for a specified future time’.

Abū Maʿšar envisages three levels of knowledge of the planets: one in which the indications are so subtle that they go beyond our knowledge; the second in which we recognize the thing being indicated, but not any of the details of that thing; the third provides both the thing and its attributes. This is what occurs in astrology. Astrology has six parts: a starting-point, an origin (root), a branch, a proof, a fruit, and a finishing-point. Hermann considers these six parts the ‘circumstantiae’ of astrology: i.e. the things one should know about it before studying it. What is needed is a passionate interest in existing things, then a knowledge of astronomy, then an application of this to matters existing in this changeable world; the proof is the correctness of the prediction, the fruit is the benefit that accrues, and the completeness is the final outcome.

After this introduction, one must first counter the arguments that 1) things generate themselves without the Sun and the planets; 2) something other than the planets generate things. The answer to the first is that no change can result from something generating itself. The providence of God is invoked for the demonstration that the Sun is the cause of light, heat and natural compositions. This is shown by the fact that (chapter 3) in those places too far from the Sun, men and animals experience severe cold, while those who live too close to the Sun experience unbearable heat. Abū Maʿšar gives examples taken from different expanses of water—the Armenian Sea, the Syrian Sea, the two Lakes that provide the water of the Nile, and the Sea of Zanǧ—probably taken from the same sources as his geographical excursus in chapter 4.5–7. He then describes how the geographical position of races affects their physiognomy and character: the Turks towards the North pole (Abū Maʿšar gives a detailed description of Mongoloid characteristics, 3.9); the Sudanese and Ethiopians towards the Equator (who have typical Bantu characteristics, 3.10); the people of Babylonia (i.e. of Baghdad), who have the perfect mixture of air, so that their intellects and characters are good: this is the land of the learned and the prophets (this phrase is omitted by Hermann). The chapter continues with a quotation from one of the wise men—Hippocrates—in his De hebdomadibus, to the effect that the light of the stars breaks down the density of the night.[62] The main thrust of this book so far is that the Sun not only has different effects at different times, but also has different effects in different parts of the earth’s globe.

The rest of Part III is devoted to the influence of the Moon, of which the most conspicuous is that of the tides. Abū Maʿšar’s account of the causes of tides, which is largely plausible, is substantial; it occupies the whole of chapters 4–8.[63] He continues with his assignation of different conditions to different topographies (people on the high seas, on shores, islands and estuaries), and different seas (the Armenian Sea, the Syrian Sea, the Indian Sea, the waters of Basra and of the ‘City of China’). The account ends with an excursus on sailing across the Indian Ocean, purportedly taken from ‘expert mariners’, and having verbal parallels in the later work of al-Bakrī.[64] The periplus of the Indian Ocean shows that it was completely enclosed by one shore, so that, by sailing to the Far East (Khmer/Qamār and Kalah are mentioned), one would end by sailing up the east coast of Africa.

The ninth chapter turns to other indications of the Moon, especially as observed by doctors. Abū Maʿšar mentions critical days—the days on which the patient suffers a crisis—weather forecasting, and several facts that seem to be the result of observation or folk lore rather than of book-learning: sleeping under the Moon at night causes listlessness, meat exposed to the Moon changes its smell and taste; animals’ brains enlarge at the beginning of the month; fish swim out of their lairs in the first half of the month. He mentions farmers, agriculturists and miners, drawing on their experience of how the Moon affects the increased growth of fruit and vegetables, and gemstones in the first half of the month. Thus it is clear that not only the Sun but also the Moon has very distinct properties in changing things, that are not found in the other planets.

Part IV considers the planets altogether. Like Part III it begins with an introductory section; this time questioning whether Ptolemy the author of the Almagest, was the same as Ptolemy the author of the Tetrabiblos. Abū Maʿšar suspects them of being different, because the astrologer, he claims, believed that the planets influenced the heat, coldness, dryness and moisture of sublunar elements because of being hot, cold, dry and moist themselves, and that the Moon’s moisture was caused by moist exhalations from the earth, and Saturn’s dryness was due to the fact that it was too far away to receive any moist exhalations from the earth.[65] He quotes verbatim Ptolemy’s account of the reason for the elemental qualities of each planet (1.4),[66] and disproves his statements on the planets one by one (1.5–10).

The second chapter continues the tone of criticism, but this time of astrol­ogers in general, who infer elemental characteristics of the planets by analogy (qiyās) from what occurs in the sublunar realm. Since the colour of the humours (yellow bile, blood, phlegm and black bile) reveals their elemental qualities, the ancient astrologers drew the false analogy that the colours of the planets too revealed their elemental qualities. The elemental qualities of the planets deduced from their colours determined whether they were benefic or malefic (2.17); e.g. Venus was a benefic because its ‘natures’ were hot and moist. But this (says Abū Maʿšar in chapter 4) is wrong because 1) the colours of the planets are not the same as the colours of the humours, 2) one should only compare like to like, 3) deduction of an elemental quality from colour is unreliable, since things that are of the same colour can be of different elemental qualities, 4) no elements should be described as malefic, since all elements are generative. Thus Abū Maʿšar replaces the false arguments of the astrologers with the reliable arguments of the philosophers. These recognized that the good fortune and misfortune in sublunar things resulted from the property of the movements of the planets, not their natures.

From Part V until the end, the Great Introduction is more of a compendium of astrological doctrines and gives less attention to the reasons for these doctrines. It was recognized as the first treatise of the second part of the volume in the Arabic MS, Istanbul, Halet Effendi 541,[67] and it is exclusively from this part that the Abbreviation of the Introduction to Astrology is taken.[68] Only when there is disagreement between authorities does Abū Maʿšar give reasons for the differing doctrines. As a kind of transition from the previous Part, the first chapter of Part V deals with the ‘accidental’ conditions of the planets determined by their positions in the signs. The first of these are the houses of the planets (chapter 2). Abū Maʿšar refutes a theory by which the houses are determined by the planets’ being bound to the Sun by bonds of different lengths. The theory disputed by Abū Maʿšar appears to come from Indian sources, conveyed through Persian (2.3–5).[69] Abū Maʿšar passes over other explanations for the planets’ houses and gives the true reason, which presupposes the equal motion of each of the planets, which only seem to speed up or slow down because of their many circles.

First Abū Maʿšar summarizes the account of the houses by ‘Ptolemy, the author of the book of astrology’ (i.e. Tetrabiblos, I, 17). While Ptolemy says only that Cancer and Leo are closer to our zenith, ‘and therefore most productive of heat and warmth and thus are assigned to the greatest and most powerful heavenly bodies, namely, the Sun and the Moon, and Cancer is assigned to the Moon because it is feminine, while Leo is assigned to the Sun because it is masculine’, Abū Maʿšar also brings into consideration the changes in season and in elemental qualities, the Sun and Moon’s assignation to day and night respectively, and their conjunction and opposition. He returns to a near literal quotation of Ptolemy when assigning the other signs to the other planets on the basis of their elemental qualities, and favourable or hostile aspects to the luminaries, finishing by saying ‘They assigned half the sphere to the Sun, i.e. from Leo to the end of Capricorn, and the other half to the Moon, i.e. from the beginning of Aquarius to the end of Cancer, so that each of the luminaries has partnership with each planet in one of its two houses—whichever is in the sphere related to that luminary.’[70]

Abū Maʿšar then puts forward Hermes’s reason for the house-division (chapter 4). This starts off by having nothing to do with elemental qualities. Rather it is related to the planets’ movements: the five planets are either east or west of the Sun (rising before or after the Sun), and have a forward and a backward movement—they have two ‘forms’. The Sun and Moon only have one form, in that the former cannot be east or west of itself, and neither of them have a backward (retrograde) movement. The Moon is adjacent to the Sun because it is the only planet to receive light from the Sun (the other planets are self-luminous). Having established why the Sun and the Moon have only one house each, while the other planets have two, and why the Moon must be next to the Sun, Abū Maʿšar then finds the most suitable zodiac sign for the Sun, which is determined by the fact that heat and dryness are strongest when the Sun is in 15 degrees of Leo. This is the only concession (if it is such) to an explanation by elements. The other houses are assigned strictly in accordance with the order of the planets’ spheres, beginning with Mercury and ending with Saturn. This Abū Maʿšar says ‘is the explanation of Agathodaimon’. Abū Maʿšar adds a kind of commentary or addendum to this, corroborating this order through the aspects, in much the same way as Ptolemy had done (4.5), and adding the reference of some people to the opposition of light and darkness (the Sun and Moon in opposition to Saturn), knowledge and material wealth (Mercury versus Jupiter), and joy and terror (Venus versus Mars) (4.6).

Abū Maʿšar contrasts the Hermetic order of description, from Sun and Moon outwards through Mercury, Venus etc., to the Ptolemaic order, which jumps directly from the Sun and Moon to Saturn (4.8). The opposite of a planet’s house is its detriment (wabāl), and its houses are masculine and feminine, depending on whether they belong to the Sun’s or the Moon’s half (4.9). Lots, too, can be calculated on the basis of the houses (a division of lots not mentioned in Part VIII, devoted to lots) (4.10).

The next section deals with the planets’ exaltations (chapters 5–7). Again Abū Maʿšar pits Ptolemy against Hermes. Ptolemy only gives whole signs as exaltations, not individual degrees, whereas Hermes gave a detailed account of why the planets were assigned to degrees within the signs. Abū Maʿšar then refutes those who claimed that the planets were put in the degrees of their exaltations from which they began their movement, and that they were later bound to the Sun (as had been discussed before). He counters this with the theory of the philosophers of the Persians, Indians and Greeks, by which all the planets started to move from the beginning of Aries,[71] and their movement did not change, and will never do so (5.4–5). In the sixth chapter Abū Maʿšar quotes the whole of Ptolemy’s chapter on exaltations (Tetrabiblos, I, 19 [20]), in which the assignation of whole signs as exaltations of planets is based on the planets’ elemental nature. Hermes, in contrast (chapter 7), makes the assignment in terms of the position of the planet in relation to the Sun, and the length of daylight and darkness. The appropriateness for the specific degrees of the exaltations is explained in detail (7.6–9), including, for Jupiter, that, since it represents judgement and order, it is right that its exaltation should be in the ascendant of the horoscope of the world.

When coming to the terms of the planets (chapter 8), Abū Maʿšar is faced with three different arrangements already in the Tetrabiblos—those of the Egyptians, those of the Chaldeans, and those of Ptolemy himself—and adds those of ‘Asṭraṭū’ and the Indians, whose sources have not been found. ‘Asṭraṭū’ is the only authority who includes the Sun and the Moon amongst the sharers of the terms. But according to others the Sun and the Moon still have a role, since they share the terms with each of the five remaining planets. Abū Maʿšar dismisses these theories, and maintains that the luminaries do not have a share in the terms. He then refers to Ptolemy’s alleged discovery of an ancient book, giving the terms which he preferred, but which he did not attribute to himself (Abū Maʿšar alleges) because of fear of criticism. Abū Maʿšar lists the terms of the Egyptians and of Ptolemy (showing variants that also appear as alternatives in the so-called Proclus Paraphrase of the Tetrabiblos).[72] Instead of giving the terms of the Chaldeans, as set out in Ptolemy, he inserts an elaborate story of the origin of the Chaldeans of Babylon, and their eminence in astrology and astronomy, and mentions Ptolemy’s criticism of the lack of antiquity of their terms (a criticism ex silentio, since Ptolemy emphasises the antiquity of the Egyptian tradition and the ‘ancient book’ that he found). The terms of ‘Asṭraṭū’ are tabulated without comment (chapter 12). But John of Seville in his translation (perhaps following a different Arabic manuscript) explains how, for each sign the first term belongs to the lord of that sign and the other terms follow in the order of the planetary spheres. The Indians also had a simpler arrangement of terms, in which all the masculine signs followed one pattern, and the feminine signs another (chapter 13). Abū Maʿšar ends the section by saying that the most correct division is that of the Egyptians.

For the triplicities (chapter 14) Abū Maʿšar states that the masculine triplicities are ruled by masculine planets, the feminine by feminine, and each has two lords which alternate by day and night, while a third planet is their partner day and night.

The next section is devoted to two traditions concerning the divisions of each of the signs of the zodiac into three. The first is that of the scholars of Persia, Babylon and Egypt (chapter 15), in which the divisions are called ‘faces’ (wuǧūh; facies, decani), and their lords simply follow the order of the planets, beginning with Mars as the lord of Aries, for the first decan. The second is that of the Indians, and retains the Arabic transliteration of the Sanskrit term which in turn is a transcription of the Greek δεκανός: darīǧān. In this case the first three decans (those of Aries) are respectively the three lords of the triplicity of Aries, while the lords of decans of Taurus are the lords of the triplicity of that sign, etc. The distinction between wajh and darīǧān will be maintained by al-Qabīṣī,[73] but Abū Maʿšar makes a choice and opts for the formula of the Persians, Babylonians and Egyptians. He remains with the Indians, however, for the doctrine of nawbahr, or ninth parts of the signs (chapter 17), for which, again, he makes a choice between two formulae. Chapter 18 presents successively smaller divisions of the signs: into twelve parts, and into thirty parts, each of which is ruled by a planet. This last division is attributed to Hermes.

Now that we have arrived at single degrees, Abū Maʿšar describes their division into masculine and feminine (of three kinds; chapter 19), bright, dusky, dark and empty degrees (20), wells (causing the planet in the degree to lose its power; chapter 21), and degrees increasing good fortune for the native when a planet is in them (chapter 22).[74]

The largest portion of Part VI is the well-known description of the constellations in the 36 decans according to the Persians, the Indians, and Ptolemy, which achieved fame by being reproduced on the walls of the Salone dei Mesi of the Palazzo Schifanoia in Ferrara.[75] Abū Maʿšar criticizes earlier descriptions of the constellations because they do not describe what they indicate. He appeals to his principal authority, Hermes (but also to Ptolemy, Dorotheus, Teucer and Antiochus or Antigonus—this is his longest list of authorities) who does give the indications. He refers to other books in which he deals with this subject; these have not been identified. The figures that the Ancients gave to the constellations were not meant to be seen in the sky, but rather indicated the property of the group of stars they represented. But different peoples gave different forms to these figures. They fall principally into three groups: 1) the people of Persia, Babylon and Egypt; 2) those of India; 3) those mentioned by Aratus and Ptolemy.[76] The figures of Aratus and Ptolemy, being built up of real stars, have strayed (by precession) from the decans where they were in Ptolemy’s time to where they are in Abū Maʿšar’s time (which he gives as the equivalent of AD 848–849). But the other two sets of figures are bound to the decans, and so have not strayed. Hermann specifies that these figures are not endowed with stars, but are certain ‘inbetween signs of the higher circle’, implying that they belong to the ninth circle (often called the tropical circle), which lay beyond the eighth sphere of the fixed stars.

Abū Maʿšar describes each of the signs of the zodiac in terms of elements, humours, and tastes—adding colours for Aries, Gemini, Libra (in spite of his rejection of such elemental description of celestial bodies, in Part V), and follows this with the description of each of the three decans, according to the three authorities. The priority given to the Persians (who are not mentioned by name after the introduction summarized above), might suggest Abū Maʿšar’s preference for his own people. Hermann again promises to provide a literal translation, leaving out nothing. The Greek version, too, is quite full.

In the second chapter Abū Maʿšar uses Ptolemy’s Handy Tables (which Abū Maʿšar attributes to Theon, as was common in the Arabic tradition) for the different rising times of the planets according to latitude.

The third chapter is on planetary aspects. Abū Maʿšar subscribes to aspects by degrees of the circle, rather than by sign (as Ptolemy implies). The following four chapters deal with astrological definitions over which there is no dispute, even if they imply emotion in the signs (loving, hating, being hostile, being friendly, obedient, and agreeing in three different ways.) Once again Abū Maʿšar quotes the Persians as authorities (chapter 5.4). In the eighth chapter he refers in passing to the derivation of hours and days from the progression through the zodiac of one degree each year. But the main way to calculate ‘the days and hours of the sign’ is to take the smallest years of the lord of the sign. Abū Maʿšar gives a list of the smallest years of each of the planets ruling the sign. He works this out for each of the signs of the zodiac.

The chorography that follows in chapter 9 gives the countries and terrains belonging to each sign, without explaining the reason for this distribution. Signs indicating movement and rest (chapter 10), rank in society (chapter 11), parts of the human body (chapter 12), grace and beauty (chapter 13), lust and diseases (chapter 14), chastity and virtue of women (chapter 15), the number of children (chapter 16), cut and angry signs (chapter 17), quality of voice (chapter 18), various bodily deficiencies (chapter 19), faults in the eye (chapter 20), cleverness and worry (chapter 21), the range of non-human animals (chapter 22), trees and plants (chapter 23) and different kinds of water, and fire (chapter 24) follow swiftly one after the other. Chapter 25 provides a wind-rose (12 winds assigned to each of the twelve signs of the zodiac).

Chapter 26 turns from the signs of the zodiac which have essential characteristics, to the twelve divisions of the ecliptic—the ‘places’—which are determined by their position in the sky. First, the divisions into cardines, succedents and cadents, within each of the quarters (quadrants) of the ecliptic, beginning respectively with the ascendant, the midheaven, the descendant and the cardine under the earth. The places are known by their numbers and by the topics which are indicated by them: the first place indicating life, the second, wealth, the third, brothers, the fourth, fathers, the fifth, children, the sixth, illnesses, the seventh, women, the eighth, death, the ninth, the journey, the tenth, authority, the eleventh, good fortune and the twelfth, enemies (26.4–16). The reasons for these attributions can be explained by the order of the spheres (26.17). The first place is similar to Saturn, because Saturn is the planet of darkness and most of the ascendant is below the horizon, and Saturn is appropriate for indicating the emergence of the native from the womb of his mother (26.18). Jupiter takes over the nourishment of the new-born child, which is part of the ‘wealth’ with which the child is endowed (26.19). Other correspondences are less convincing: the third place (of brothers) belongs to Mars because Mars and Saturn are like brothers in misfortune; the fourth place belongs to the Sun because its mixing with the Moon is like the intercourse of a man and woman, and is therefore appropriate to fathers etc. The far-fetchedness of this explanation allows Abū Maʿšar to entertain the idea that the places have indications of their own just as the planets have indications of their own (26.31). The last part of chapter 26 describes the ‘joys’ of the planets—i.e. the places in which they like to be—which are determined by the appropriateness of the topics of the places to the topics associated with each of the planets (26.32).

Chapter 27 divides the four quarters of the sphere between spirit and body, with rudimentary explanations as to why this should be so. Chapter 28 recalls the fact that no element exists on its own, but all compositions are made of mixtures of elements. Thus for the new-born, although his elemental constitution may primarily depend on the element of the ascendant, it will also be influenced by the other three cardines, each of which is associated with a different element. Chapter 29 associates a range of seven colours with the cardines and with the individual places. The last chapter of the section on the quadrants and the places briefly treats of the different lengths of the quadrants, without giving any values. Part VI ends with some miscellaneous chapters. Chapter 31 gives sets of quaternions: four ‘natures’, four winds, four seasons, four divisions of the signs, four divisions of the sphere, four quarters of the day and night and four ages of man. These are listed. Chapter 32, in turn, brings together definitions of the day and the year, and the several analogies between the divisions of the day and that of the year. The 33rd chapter introduces the lords of the hours, explaining how, when each planet is assigned to an hour in order, we end up with the lords of the first hours of each day who give their names to the whole day (the Sun’s day, the Moon’s day, Mars’s day, Mercury’s day, Jupiter’s day, Venus’s day and Saturn’s day). Abū Maʿšar gives the reasons for starting on Sunday (as ‘the First Day’) as being 1) that, according the astrologers of Persia and India, the world days began from Sunday (33.5), 2) all nations call Sunday ‘one’, and hence the days that follow are ‘two’, ‘three’ etc., and 3) (possibly a gloss) God began his creation on that day.

Part VII is devoted to the essential and accidental conditions of the planets. Having discussed the physical conditions of the planets in themselves, Abū Maʿšar now deals with their astronomical conditions, such as increasing or decreasing in motion (though he postulated uniform motion at the beginning of Part V), in number, in light and in calculation. The second chapter considers the planets’ conditions in movement in respect to the Sun, from ‘being in the heart’ of the Sun to opposition. In both these chapters Abū Maʿšar uses several Persian words and in VII, 1.11 he refers to the ‘ziǧ of Persia and India’. The third chapter, in turn, refers to the planets’ position in respect to the quarters of the sphere and the twelve places. The planet has power over a certain number of degrees before and after it, called ‘the power of its body’ (ǧirm; translated by John of Seville as ‘orbis’). None of this astronomical doctrine needs explanation. The planets’ ‘bodies’ are relevant in that, as stated in chapter 4, the mixing of two planets is more powerful when they are within half each other’s orb. Planets do not mix physically, because they remain in their separate spheres. Therefore, the mixing that we see doctors engaging in does not apply to planets, whose ‘natures’ are not mingled, but whose qualities are mixed (4.7). Abū Maʿšar goes to some length to describe the way that planets conjoin, speaking all the time in terms of their elemental qualities (of which the hot and cold are fixed in the planet, whereas the dry and moist can be changed). He introduces a discussion of the distinction between composition, mingling, coming together and mixing (4.19). Though it is not clear in the Arabic, Hermann opts for ‘coming together’ as being appropriate for the planets’ conjunctions.

Chapter 5 defines each of the twenty-five conditions obtaining between planets. Among the authorities mentioned is Dorotheus from whom a substantial passage is quoted (5.10), and the books of the Persians, Babylonians and Egyptians, known as the Bizīḏaǧāt.[77]

Chapter 6 deals with the good fortune and misfortune, and the power and the weakness of the planets, and the corruption of the Moon. Chapter 7 is on the casting of rays by planets. Chapter 8 gives the values of the planets’ fardārs and years, divided into greatest, great, middle and small. The fardārs are unequal lengths of time starting from the Sun and preceding in the order of the planets, ending with the Head and the Tail, and making in total 75 years, which is the notional length of a man’s life. Abū Maʿšar does not mention the purpose of the fardār, but refers the reader to another book of his in which the reasons are given. Chapter 9 gives in detail the natures of each of the planets, including its elemental qualities, element, sometimes humour, taste, stages of human life, professions and activities, character, and material wealth. It provides a rich fund of vocabulary.

The whole of Part VIII is devoted to lots. Lots are places on the ecliptic that are calculated by counting the number of degrees between two entities in the direction in which the zodiac is graduated (usually planets, but also another lot, or the place of the conjunction of the Sun and Moon), and counting them off from the ascendant in the same direction (often with a different formula for day and night). This is a procedure which depends neither on observation nor on physics—not even on analogy, and, as such, was neglected by Ptolemy in his Tetrabiblos.[78] Abū Maʿšar defends this procedure by appealing to the experience of the Ancients, and, citing first Hermes, as usual, he shows how the Persians, Babylonians and Greeks used, for a particular theme, both the observation of the planet that was lord of the place of that theme (and its relationship to other planets), and the lot that was pertinent to the theme (1.5).

But Abū Maʿšar also devises reasons for the viability of lots: 1) the significance of the curvilinear distance between planets by degrees (different from the direct ‘geometrical’ distances used in aspects, 1.6); 2) that the lot was needed to make decisions when the contradiction of other indicators could not be otherwise resolved (1.7). Abū Maʿšar emphasises the natural aspect of lots in his own definition, that a lot is ‘the knowledge of the distance between the two indicators that indicate one thing by natural indication, and of its falling in a certain position of the sphere’ (1.8). Three things are necessary: the two indicators, which are fixed in their indication, and a third indicator which is always moving—this being (usually) the ascendant. One can see how much importance he attaches to the lots, in that he devotes an entire book of the Great Introduction to them. He divides these lots into groups: 7 planetary lots, 80 lots associated with the astrological places, and 10 lots not falling into either of these categories, for a total of 97. Abū Maʿšar mentions two sources, Vettius Valens and Hermes. He only mentions Valens when he gives a different formula for the lot than does Hermes. It is feasible then, that the default source for his information was Hermes, who is known to have written on lots in a Greek book called Panaretos, which has not been identified.[79]

The Great Introduction ends without any conclusion, with the usual praises to God and blessings on Muḥammad (omitted by both John of Seville and Hermann of Carinthia).

Abū Maʿšar shows himself to be proud to rely on the Greek heritage of Ptolemy the astronomer and Aristotle the philosopher. He is more critical of Ptolemy the astrologer, whom he refuses to accept as being identical with the astronomer, and he has sharp words of criticism for astrologers in general, both because of their explanations of celestial causality in terms of the four earthly elements, and for their incompetence. He reserves the greatest respect for Hermes, but the work or works of his that he claims to have quoted directly have, unfortunately, not been identified.

3

The Manuscripts

The following manuscripts of the Great Introduction have been seen by us, and will be referred to by the following sigla:[80]

B	Oxford, Bodleian Library, or. 565
C	Istanbul, Carullah 1508
D	*New Delhi, Hamdard University Library 1325
E	*Eton, Eton College, 65
H	Istanbul, Halet Efendi 541
L	Leiden, University Library or. 47
N	Istanbul, Nuruosmaniye 2806
O	Oxford, Bodleian Library, Hyde 3
P	Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, ar. 5902
R	*Rampur, Raza Library 4193
S	*Tehran, Dānišgāh 470
T	*Tehran, Maǧlis 6514[81]

B: Oxford, Bodleian Library, or. 565 (ff. 75), 23 lines per page, written in naskhi script on the 21st day of the month of Ḏū l-qaʿda of AH 880 (= 17 March AD 1476).[82] The title is written as K. al-mudḫal al-kabīr li-Abī Maʿšar al-Balḫī on the first folio. This includes the beginning to IV, 7 and VIII, 4.6 to the end, and it lacks I, 6.17–21, IV, 6.13–18, and VIII, 4.25, 27–28 and 42–46.

C: Istanbul, Carullah 1508 (ff. 244), 18–26 lines per page, written in naskhi script in the month of Ṣafar of AH 327 (= AD 938).[83] The title of K. al-mudḫal ilā ʿilm aḥkām an-nuǧūm is found at the beginning of each Part. This lacks VI, 24.2–3 and VIII, 4.8–11.

D: New Delhi, Hamdard University Library 1325 (ff. 179), 21 lines per page, written in naskhi script in AH 1078 (= AD 1667/8). This omits ff. 42–127 corresponding to II, 7.3–VI, 32.7 and f. 175 corresponding to VIII, 4.59–79. In Part VIII the fourth chapter comes after the sixth chapter, and the fifth and sixth chapters are named as fourth and fifth respectively. The title is written as K. al-mudḫal ilā ʿilm an-nuǧūm li-Abī Maʿšar on the first folio, but K. Abī Maʿšar Ǧaʿfar wa-huwa l-mudḫal al-kabīr in the colophon.

E: Eton College 65 (ff. 392), 11 lines per page, written in nastaʿliq script on 26 in the month of Ḏū al-qaʿda of AH 1079 (= 27 April AD 1669).[84] The title heading each Part is K. al-mudḫal ilā ʿilm aḥkām an-nuǧūm. Folios 3 and 8 should be swapped.

H: Istanbul, Halet Efendi 541 (ff. 162), 25 lines per page, written in naskhi script in the month of Ramaḍān of AH 1141 (= AD 1729).[85] The title heading each Part is K. al-mudḫal ilā ʿilm aḥkām an-nuǧūm, but K. al-mudḫal al-kabīr li-Abī Maʿšar appears in the colophon of f. 162^b. Our copy lacks one folio containing IV, 6.6–9 and VIII, 4.14–42 respectively. It repeats a part of I, 3.8.

L: Leiden, University Library or. 47 (pp. 320), 23 lines per page, written in naskhi script on Tuesday, the 25th day of the month of Raǧab of AH 966 (= 3 May AD 1559).[86] The title is K. al-mudḫal li-Abī Maʿšar al-Balḫī. This lacks I, 6.17–21, IV, 6.13–18 and VIII, 4.11–12, 25, 27–28, 39 and 42–46. It inserts V, 2.3–6 into V, 4.2.

N: Istanbul, Nuruosmaniye 2806 (ff. 172), 25 lines per page, written in naskhi script on Sunday, 19th day of the month of Šawwal of AH 1148 (= 3 March AD 1736).[87] The title is either Kitāb al-mudḫal ilā ʿilm aḥkām an-nuǧūm or al-mudḫal al-kabīr li-Abī Maʿšar. This lacks V, 11 to VI, 2.3. Ff. 5^a–6^a contain confusion in the contents: I, 2.12–15, 19–23 are omitted; and the order is 12, 18b, 19, 16, 17, 18a and 23.

O: Oxford, Bodleian Library, Hyde 3 (ff. 341), 15 lines per page, written in naskhi script at an unknown date.[88] The title is either K. al-mudḫal al-kabīr li-Abī Maʿšar or K. al-mudḫal al-kabīr fī ʿilm aḥkām an-nuǧūm li-Abī Maʿšar on the beginning of each part. Ff. 59^b–67^b corresponding to IV, 5.2–21 and ff. 149^b–156^b corresponding to I, 6.7–20 should be swapped. Ff. 335–336, and 341, which is the last folio, are written by another hand.

P: Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, ar. 5902 (ff. 131), 19–35 lines per page, written in naskhi script in the month of Ṣafar of AH 325 (= AD 936/7).[89] The title at the beginning of the MS is K. al-mudḫal al-kabīr fī ʿilm aḥkām an-nuǧūm li-Abī Maʿšar al-Balḫī, but the same one as C heads each Part. This manuscript contains ff. 1^b–131^a, but it has ff. 22bis, 58bis, and 99bis after ff. 22, 58, and 99 respectively. P lacks I, 2.26 to II, 1.6 between ff. 10 and 11, II, 5.2 to the end of the chapter between ff. 18 and 19, VIII, 1.10 to VIII, 4.6 between ff. 123 and 124, and IV, 4.72 to IV, 8.5 between ff. 129 and 130. Ff. 50–53, which should be put between ff. 37 and 38, and ff. 125–128 are written by another hand.

R: Rampur, Raza Library 4193 (ff. 49), 36 lines per page, written in nastaʿliq script in AH 1102 (= AD 1690/1).[90] Though al-mudḫal fī aḥkām an-nuǧūm li-Abī Maʿšar Falakī is found on folio 1^a, K. al-mudḫal ilā ʿilm aḥkām an-nuǧūm heads each Part. This lacks some last folios containing VIII, 5.49 to the end of the text. It is often impossible to read the text because of papers used in repairing the manuscript.

S: Tehran, Dānišgāh 470 (ff. 145), 21 lines per paqge, written in naskhi script. Not dated.[91] The title is al-mudḫal ilā aḥkām an-nuǧūm.

T: Tehran, Maǧlis 6514 (ff. 168), 20 lines per page, written in naskhi script in AH 937 (= AD 1530/1). It has the same title as S. This lacks VIII, 4.50 to 6.10.

Tehran, Mu‘tamid[92] is not the Great Introduction from the evidence of the first folio given in the catalogue.

Rabat, Ḫizāna ʿāmma 2237/3[93] is not a work of Abū Ma‘šar, but one by Abū l-Qāsim al-Balḫī.

4

Editorial Principles

Contrary to Richard Lemay’s opinion,[94] it is not evident that a revision of the text by the author has been made; the variants between the manuscripts are those that one would expect to arise in the course of their copying. The oldest manuscripts, CPO, offer the best text; B and L, written in the sixteenth century, often agree in their readings which are often shared with the lost manuscript John of Seville was using; and the recent copies, TSRHN, also often agree with each other (though R is frequently illegible). Our edition is based on the two oldest manuscripts CP. All the readings of CP are mentioned. When both of these manuscripts seem to give an erroneous reading we take a reading from OBLTSHN, while giving the readings from all the other manuscripts in the apparatus criticus. When BL or TSHN share the same readings only L and T, respectively, are mentioned. Otherwise the variant readings of the other manuscripts in the group are given. Occasionally readings from other manuscripts will be given when they agree with what the Latin translators evidently had before their eyes. Our orthography is a modern one, so the hamza, madda and šadda are added by the editor whenever necessary, and sometimes the dots of tā’ marbūṭa are added too. But all these, and lines over the alphabetical numerals, are omitted in the footnotes, in most cases. Lemay, Great Introduction, bks II and III provides a comprehensive list of manuscript variants (except those of DERST which were inaccessible to him). His edition is therefore important for assessing the history of the text. Our edition, on the other hand, aims to provide the text that most accurately represents what Abū Maʿšar himself may have written, based on the consensus of MSS C and P and corrected where necessary from seven other manuscripts. The two editions are based on independent collations of the manuscripts, and can be considered to complement each other.

5

Bibliography and Abbreviations

[The bibliography includes all the works referred to in volumes I and II.]

Abū Maʿšar, De revolutionibus nativitatum, ed. D. Pingree, Leipzig, 1968.

Abū Maʿšar, The Abbreviation of the Introduction to Astrology, ed. and trans. Ch. Burnett, K. Yamamoto, and M. Yano, Leiden, 1994.

Abū Maʿšar, Liber introductorii maioris ad scientiam judiciorum astrorum, 9 vols, ed. R. Lemay, Naples, 1995–1996.

Abū Maʿšar, On Historical Astrology: The Book of Religions and Dynasties (On the Great Conjunctions), ed. and trans. K. Yamamoto and Ch. Burnett, 2 vols, Leiden, 2000.

Accessus ad auctores: Bernard d’Utrecht. Conrad d’Hirsau: Dialogus super auctores, ed. R.B.C. Huygens, Leiden, 1970.

Adamson, P., ‘Abū Maʿšar, al-Kindī and the Philosophical Defense of Astrology’, Recher­ches de théologie ancienne et médiévale, 69, 2002, pp. 245–270.

Adamson, P., Al-Kindī, Oxford, 2007.

Adamson, P., and P.E. Pormann, The Philosophical Works of al-Kindī, Oxford, 2012.

Pseudo-Apollonius, De secretis naturae, ed. F. Hudry, Chrysopoeia, 6, 1997–1999, pp. 1–154; Buch über das Geheimnis der Schöpfung und die Darstellung der Natur von Pseudo-Apollonios von Tyana (Arabic), ed. U. Weisser, Aleppo, 1979.

Aratus, Phaenomena, ed. and trans. D. Kidd, Cambridge, 1997.

Aristotle, Categories, De caelo, De interpretatione, Metaphysics, Meteorology, Nicoma­chean Ethics and Physics, in The Complete Works of Aristotle, ed. J. Barnes, Princeton N.J., 1984.

Arshī, I.ʿA., Catalogue of the Arabic manuscripts in Raza Library, Rampur, vol. 5, Rampur, 1975.

Ashmand, J.M., Ptolemy’s Tetrabiblos or Quadripartite, London, 1822 (reprinted, 1917).

Baffioni, C., ‘L’embriologia araba fra astrologia e medicina. Abū Maʿšar al-Balḫī e Muḥammad ibn Zakariyā al-Rāzī’, in La diffusione dell’eredità classica nell’età tardoantica e medievale. Il Romanzo di Alessandro e altri scritti, eds R.B. Finazzi and A. Valvo, Alessandria, 1998, pp. 1–21.

Baffioni, C., ‘Una citazione di De Interpretatione, 9 in Abū Ma‘šar’, in Aristotele e Alessandro di Afrodisia nella Tradizione Araba, ed. C. D’Ancona and G. Serra, Padua, 2002, pp. 113–132.

al-Bakrī, ʿAbd Allāh ibn ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz, Kitāb al-Masālik wa-l-Mamālik, ed. A.P. van Leeuwen and A. Ferré, Tunis, 1992.

al-Bīrūnī, Chronologie orientalischer Völker von ALBĒRŪNĪ, ed. C.E. Sachau, Leipzig, 1878; The Chronology of Ancient Nations, trans. C.E. Sachau, London, 1879 (reprinted, 1998).

al-Bīrūnī, Tafhīm: The Book of Instruction in the Elements of the Art of Astrology, facsimile and trans. R. Ramsay Wright, London, 1934.

al-Bīrūnī, Al-Qānūnu ’l-Masʿūdī (Canon Masudicus), 3 vols, Hyderabad, 1954–1956.

al-Bīrūnī, Al-Bīrūnī on Transits, trans. M. Saffouri and A. Ifram, with commentary by E.S. Kennedy, American University of Beirut, Oriental Series 32, 1959.

Boethius, In Isagogen Porphyrii, eds G. Schepss and S. Brandt, Vienna and Leipzig, 1906.

The Book of Curiosities: An Eleventh-Century Egyptian Guide to the Universe: the Book of Curiosities, ed. and trans. Y. Rapoport and E. Savage-Smith, Leiden and Boston, 2014.

Boll, F., Sphaera, Leipzig, 1903.

Bos, G. and Ch. Burnett, Scientific Weather Forecasting in the Middle Ages: The Writings of al-Kindī, New York and London, 2000.

Burnett, Ch., ‘The Blend of Latin and Arabic Sources in the Metaphysics of Adelard of Bath, Hermann of Carinthia, and Gundisalvus’, in Metaphysics in the Twelfth Century: On the Relationship among Philosophy, Science and Theology, ed. M. Lutz-Bachmann, A. Fidora and A. Niederberger, Turnhout, 2004, pp. 41–65.

Burnett, Ch., ‘Does the Sea Breathe, Boil or Bloat? A Textual Problem in Abu Ma‘shar’s Explanation of Tides’, in Mélanges offerts à Hossam Elkhadem par ses amis et ses élèves, Brussels, 2007, pp. 73–79.

Burnett, Ch., ‘Abū Ma‘shar’, in Encyclopaedia of Islam Three, Leiden, 2008, pp. 64–67.

Burnett, Ch., ‘Abū Ma‘shar (AD 787–886) and His Major Texts on Astrology’, in Kayd: Studies in History of Mathematics, Astronomy and Astrology in Memory of David Pingree, eds Gh. Gnoli and A. Panaino, Serie orientale Roma CII, Rome, 2009, pp. 17–29.

Burnett, Ch., ‘The Arrival of the Pagan Philosophers in the North: A Twelfth-Century Florilegium in Edinburgh University Library’, in Knowledge, Discipline and Power in the Middle Ages, Essays in Honour of David Luscombe, ed. J. Canning, E. King and M. Staub, Leiden and Boston, 2011, pp. 79–93.

Burnett, Ch., ‘Doctors versus Astrologers: Medical and Astrological Prognosis Compared’, in Die mantischen Künste und die Epistemologie prognostischer Wissenschaften im Mittelalter, ed. A. Fidora, Cologne, Weimar and Vienna, 2013, pp. 110–121.

Burnett, Ch., ‘Stephen of Messina and the Translation of Astrological Texts from Greek in the Time of Manfred’, in Translating at the Court: Bartholomew of Messina and Cultural Life at the Court of Manfred, King of Sicily, ed. P. De Leemans, Leuven, 2014, pp. 123–132.

De Jong, P. and M.J. de Goeje, Catalogus codicum orientalium Bibliothecae Academiae Lugduno Batavae, vol. 3, Leiden, 1865.

Dykes, B., Introductions to Traditional Astrology: Abu Ma’shar and al-Qabisi, Minneapolis MN, 2010.

Dictionary of Scientific Biography, ed. C.C. Gillispie, 18 vols, New York, 1970–1981.

Dietrich, A., Dioscurides triumphans, Göttingen, 1988.

Dorotheus Sidonius, Carmen Astrologicum, ed. D. Pingree, Leipzig, 1976.

Du Cange: Glossarium Mediae et Infimae Graecitatis, Lyons, 1688 (reprinted Collège de France, 1943).

Duhem, P., Le système du monde: histoire des doctorines cosmologiques de Platon à Copernic, vol. 2, Paris, 1965.

Dunlop, D.M., ‘The Mudhākarāt fī ʿIlm an-Nujūm (Dialogues on Astrology) attributed to Abū Maʿshar al-Balkhī (Albumasar)’, in Iran and Islam, in memory of the late Vladimir Minorsky, ed. C.E. Bosworth, Edinburgh, 1971.

Dyroff, K., ‘Aus der ‘großen Einleitung’ des Abū Maʿšar’, in Boll, Sphaera, pp. 482–539.

EI: Encyclopaedia of Islam.

al-Farġānī’s Thirty Chapters in Alfraganus, Elementa astronomica, ed. J. Golius, Amsterdam, 1669.

Federici Vescovini, G., ‘La versio latina degli Excerpta de secretis Albumasar di Sadan’, in Archives d’ histoire doctrinale et littéraire du moyen âge, 65, 1998, pp. 273–330.

Fihrist-i kitābḫāna-i ihdā’ī-i Āqā Muḥammad Miškāt ba-kitābḫāna-i Dānišgāh-i Tihrān, vol. 4, Tehran, 1951.

Fihrist-i Kitābḫāna-i Markazī-i Dānišgāh-i Tihrān, Tehran, 1339 A.H.Š.

Fihris al-maḫṭūṭāt al-ʿarabīya, vol. 5, Rabat, 1997.

Fihrist-i Nusaḫ-i Ḫaṭṭī-i Kitābḫāna-i Millī, Tehran, 1357 A.H.Š.

Freytag, G.W., Lexicon Arabico-Latinum, Bonn, 1830 (reprinted 1975).

Ǧābir ibn Ḥayyān, Kitāb al-aḥǧār, ed. and trans. N. al-Haq in Names, Natures and Things, Dordrecht, 1994.

Galen, De diebus decretoriis, ed. G.M. Cooper, Farnham, 2011.

H = Hermann of Carinthia’s translation

Haskins, C.H., Studies in the History of Mediaeval Science, Cambridge, Mass., 1924, second edition, 1927.

Hasse, D.N., ‘Stylistic Evidence for Identifying John of Seville with the Translator of Some Twelfth-Century Astrological and Astronomical Texts from Arabic into Latin on the Iberian Peninsula’, in Ex Oriente Lux. Translating Words, Scripts and Styles in Medieval Mediterranean Society, eds Ch. Burnett and P. Mantas, Córdoba, 2016, pp. 19–43.

Hava, J.G., al-Faraid, Arabic-English Dictionary, Beirut, 1982.

Heilen, S., Hadriani genitura: die astrologischen Fragmente des Antigonos von Nikaia, 2 vols, Berlin and Boston, 2015.

Hermelink, H., ‘Datierung des Liber Introductorius von Albumasar (Kitāb almudḫal al-kabīr von Abū Maʿšar)’, in Sudhoffs Archiv für Geschichte der Medizin und der Naturwissenschaften, 46, 1962, pp. 264–265.

Hermann of Carinthia, De essentiis, ed. and trans. Ch. Burnett, Leiden, 1982.

Hippocrates, Airs, Waters, Places, ed. G. Gundermann, Bonn, 1911.

Hippocrates, De hebdomadibus. In Pseudogaleni in Hippocratis De septimanis commentarium, ed. G. Bergsträsser, Berlin, 1914.

Hogendijk, J.P., ‘The Mathematical Structure of Two Islamic Astrological Tables for “Casting the Rays” ’, Centaurus, 32, 1989, pp. 171–202.

Hübner, W., Die Eigenschaften der Tierkreiszeichen in der Antike, Wiesbaden, 1982.

Ibn Abi r-Riǧāl, Kitāb al-Bāriʿ. MSS Nuruosmaniye 2779 and British Library, add. 23399.

Ibn Abi r-Riǧāl, Albohazen Haly filius Abenragel, Libri de iudiciis astrorum, ed. Antonius Stupa, Basel, 1551.

Ibn Ḫaldūn, Prolégomènes d’ Ebn-Khaldoun, ed. E.M. Quatremère, 3 vols, Paris, 1858; Ibn Khaldūn, The Muqaddimah, trans. F. Rosenthal, 3 vols, Princeton, 1958.

Ibn an-Nadīm, Kitāb al-Fihrist, Tehran, 1971; trans. B. Dodge, The Fihrist of al-Nadīm, 2 vols, New York and London, 1970.

J = John of Seville’s translation

Jrev = The revision of John of Seville’s translation

Krause, M., ‘Stambular Handschriften islamischer Mathematiker’, in Quellen und Studien zur Geschichte der Mathematik, Astronomie und Physik, Abteilung B: Studien 3, 1936, pp. 437–532.

Kunitzsch, P., Untersuchungen zur Sternnomenklatur der Araber, Wiesbaden, 1961.

Kunitzsch, P., Der Almagest, Wiesbaden, 1974.

Kunitzsch, P., Der Sternkatalog des Almagest, 3 vols, Wiesbaden, 1986–1991.

Kūšyār ibn Labbān, Introduction to Astrology, ed. and trans. M. Yano, Tokyo, 1997.

Lane, E.W., An Arabic-English Lexicon, London, 1863–1893 (reprinted 1984).

Lemay, R., Abu Maʿshar and Latin Aristotelianism in the Twelfth Century, Beirut, 1962.

Lemay, R., ‘Fautes et contresens dans les traductions arabo-latines médiévales: l’ Intro­ductorium in astronomiam d’ Abou Maʿshar de Balkh’, in XIIe Congrès international d’ histoire des sciences, Revue de Synthèse, 3e série, 49–52, 1968, pp. 108–123.

Lemay, R., ‘Gerard of Cremona’, Dictionary of Scientific Biography, ed. C.C. Gillispie, Supplement I, New York, 1978, pp. 173–192.

Lemay, R., Great Introduction: see Abū Maʿšar, Liber introductorii maioris ad scientiam judiciorum astrorum.

Pseudo-Maǧrīṭī, Ġāyat al-ḥakīm, ed. H. Ritter, Leipzig and Berlin, 1933; trans. H. Ritter and M. Plessner, London, 1962.

Margoliouth, D.S., Catalogue of the Oriental Manuscripts in the Library of Eton College, Oxford, 1904.

al-Masʿūdī, Murūǧ aḏ-ḏahab wa-maʿādin al-ǧawhar, Beirut, 7 vols, 1966–1979.

Mater, Z. and Kahl, O., ‘A Treatise on the Amicable Numbers 220 and 284 Attributed to Abū Maʿšar al-Balkhī’, Journal of Semitic Studies, 35 (1990), pp. 233–243.

Miquel, A., La géographie humaine du monde musulman jusqu’ au milieu du 11e siècle, 3 vols, Paris, 1967–1980.

Nicoll, A., Bibliothecae Bodleianae codicum manuscriptorum orientalium catalogi partis secundae volumen primum, arabicos complectens, Oxford, 1821.

Noble, M., ‘Ṣābi’an Occult Ritual as an Alternative Path to Human Perfection’, proceedings of the conference ‘Islamic Occultism in Theory and Practice’, Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, 6–8 January, 2017, ed. by L. Saif.

Palazzo Schifanoia a Ferrara, ed. S. Settis et al., 2 vols, Modena, 2007.

Panaino, A., Tessere il cielo, Roma, 1998.

Paulus Alexandrinus, Elementa apotelesmatica, ed. Æ. Boer, Leipzig, 1958.

Pingree, D., ‘Historical Horoscopes’, Journal of the American Oriental Society, 82, 1962, pp. 487–502.

Pingree, D., ‘Abū Maʿshar’, in Dictionary of Scientific Biography, I, New York, 1970, pp. 32–39.

Pingree, D., The Thousands of Abū Maʿshar, London, 1968.

Pingree, D., ‘Māshā’allāh: Some Sasanian and Syriac Sources’, in Essays on Islamic Philosophy and Science, ed. G.F. Hourani, Albany NY, 1975, pp. 5–14.

Pingree, D., ‘The Indian and Pseudo-Indian Passages in Greek and Latin Astronomical and Astrological Texts’, Viator, 7, 1976, pp. 141–195.

Pingree, D., ‘Ibn Abī ’l-Rid̲j̲āl’, EI², III, 1986, p. 688.

Pingree, D., ‘The Sayings of Abū Maʿšar al-Balḫī in Arabic, Greek and Latin’, in Ratio et superstitio. Essays in Honor of Graziella Federici Vescovini, ed. G. Marchetti, O. Rignani, V. Sorge, Louvain-la-Neuve, 2003.

Proclus: Ptolemy’s Tetrabiblos or Quadripartite, … Newly Translated from the Greek Paraphrase of Proclus, trans. J.M. Ashmand, London, 1822 (reprinted, 1917).

Ptolemy, Almagest, trans. and annotated G.J. Toomer, London, 1984.

Ptolemy, Tetrabiblos, ed. and trans. F.E. Robbins, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1940; ed. W. Hübner, Apotelesmatika, Stuttgart and Leipzig, 1998.

Ptolemy, Handy Tables, ed. A. Tihon, trans. and comm. R. Mercier, 2 vols, Louvain-Neuve, 2011.

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