SOME TWELFTH CENTURY TRANSLATORS, CHIEFLY OF ASTROLOGY FROM THE ARABIC IN SPAIN

Already we have treated of a number of Arabic works of occult science which are extant in Latin translations, or have mentioned men, important in the history of medieval science like Constantinus Africanus or Adelard of Bath, whose works were either largely or partly translations. In future chapters we shall have occasion to mention other men and works of the same sort. We have already seen, too, that translations from the Greek were being made all through the early middle ages and in the tenth century; and we shall see this continue in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries especially in connection with Galen, Aristotle, and Ptolemy. We have also seen reasons for suspecting that the Latin versions of certain works were older than the so-called Greek originals, that works were sometimes translated from Arabic into Greek as well as from Greek into Arabic, and that there probably never were any Arabic originals for some so-called translations from the Arabic which are extant only in Latin. All this is not yet to mention versions from Hebrew and Syriac or in French, Spanish, and Anglo-Saxon. We have seen also in general how important and influential in the history of medieval learning was the work of the translator, and yet how complicated and difficult to follow. Many names of translators are mentioned in the medieval manuscripts: some, for instance, who will not be treated of in the present chapter are: from the Greek, Aristippus of Sicily, Bartholomew of Messina, Burgundio of Pisa, Eugenius admiral of Sicily, Grumerus of Piacenza, Nicolaus of Reggio, Stephen of Messina, and William of Moerbeke; from the Arabic, Egidius de Tebaldis of Parma, Arnold of Barcelona, Blasius Armegandus or Ermengardus of Montpellier, Marcus of Toledo, the canon Salio of Padua, John Lodoycus Tetrapharmacus, Philip of Spain, Philip of Tripoli, Roger of Parma, Ferragius, and so on. But not all such names of translators can be correctly placed and dated, and many translations remain anonymous in the manuscripts. Into this vast and difficult field Jourdain’s work on the medieval translations of Aristotle made but an entrance, and that one which now needs amendment, and even such extensive bibliographical investigations as those of Steinschneider have only made rough charts of portions. Some detailed monographs on single translators[159] and the like topics have been written, but many more will be required before we shall have a satisfactory general orientation.

The subject of medieval translations as a whole of course in any case lies in large part beyond the scope of our investigation and would lead us into other literary and learned fields not bearing upon experimental science and magic. In the present chapter we shall further limit ourselves to some translators of the twelfth century who chiefly translated works of astrology from the Arabic and who, although they themselves often came from other lands, were especially active in Spain. One or two men will be introduced who do not possess all these qualifications, but who are related to the other men and works included in the chapter.

Throughout the twelfth century from its first years to its close may be traced the transit of learning from the Arabic world, and more particularly from the Spanish peninsula, to northwestern Europe. Three points may be made concerning this transmission: it involves Latin translation from the Arabic; the matter translated is largely mathematical, or more especially astronomical and astrological in character; finally, it is often experimental.

On the very threshold of the twelfth century, in addition to Adelard of Bath to whom we have given a separate chapter, we meet with another Englishman, Walcher, prior of Malvern, whom we find associated with Peter Alphonso or Pedro Alfonso, who apparently was a converted Spanish Jew. Walcher’s experimental observations would seem to have antedated his association with Pedro, since a chapter headed, “Of the writer’s experience,”[160] in lunar tables which he composed between 1107 and 1112, tells of an eclipse which he saw in Italy in 1091 but could not observe exactly because he had no clock (horologium) at hand to measure the time, and of another in the succeeding year after his return to England which he was able to observe more scientifically with the aid of an astrolabe. In 1120 Walcher translated into Latin, at least according to the testimony of the manuscripts, an astronomical work by Pedro Alfonso on the Dragon.[161] Pedro perhaps wrote the original in Hebrew or Spanish or translated it from the Arabic into one of those languages, but we also know of his writing in Latin himself.

This Pedro Alfonso seems to have been the same[162] who in 1106 in his forty-fourth year was baptized at Huesca with the name of his godfather, King Alfonso I of Aragon, and who wrote the Disciplina clericalis and Dialogi cum Iudeo. Indeed we find the Disciplina clericalis and De dracone ascribed to him in the same manuscript.[163] In another manuscript chronological and astronomical tables are found under his name and the accompanying explanatory text opens, “Said Pedro Alfonso, servant of Jesus Christ and translator of this book.”[164] This expression is very similar, as Haskins has pointed out, to a heading in a manuscript of the Disciplina clericalis, “Said Pedro Alfonso, servant of Christ Jesus, physician of Henry the first (sic) king of the Angles, composer of this book.”[165] The experimental pretensions and astrological leanings of the astronomical treatise are suggested by Pedro’s statement that the science of the stars divides into three parts, marvelous in reasoning, notable in the signification of events, and approved in experience; and that the third part is the science of the nature of the spheres and stars, and their significations in earthly affairs which happen from the virtue of their nature and the diversity of their movements, things known by experiment.

In a manuscript at the British Museum[166] I have read what seems to be a third astronomical treatise by Pedro Alfonso, differing both from the preceding and from the De dracone.[167] We meet as before the expression, “Said Alfonso, servant of Jesus Christ and translator of this book,”[168] and the emphasis upon experiment and astrology continues. It will be noted further that in this treatise, which takes the form of a letter to Peripatetics and those nourished by the milk of philosophy everywhere through France, Pedro is no longer connected with Englishmen, although this manuscript, too, is in an English library. After rehearsing the utility of grammar, dialectic, and arithmetic, Pedro finally comes to astronomy, an art with which “all of the Latins generally” are little acquainted, in which he himself has long been occupied, and a portion of which he presents to them as something rare and precious. It has come to his ears that some seekers after wisdom are preparing to traverse distant provinces and penetrate to remote regions in order to acquire fuller astronomical knowledge, and he proposes to save them from this inconvenience by bringing astronomy to them. Apparently, therefore, this letter to the Peripatetics and other students of philosophy is simply the advertisement of, or preface to, a translation by Pedro of some astronomical or astrological work, presumably from the Arabic.[169] It is accordingly mainly devoted to a justification of the thorough study of astronomy and astrology. Many persons, in Pedro’s opinion, are simply too lazy to take the trouble to ground themselves properly therein. Those who think they know all about the subject because they have read Macrobius and a few other authors are found wanting in a crisis,—a passage meant doubtless as a hit at those who base their knowledge of astronomy simply upon Latin authors. Pedro also alludes to those who have been accustomed to regard themselves as teachers of astronomy and now hate to turn pupils again.

The contrast which Pedro draws, however, is not so much between Latin and Arabic writings as it is between dependence upon a few past authorities and adoption of the experimental method. He argues that the principles of astronomy were discovered in the first place only through experimentation, and that today no one can understand the art fundamentally without actual observation and experience. He believes that astrology as well as astronomy is proved by experience. “It has been proved therefore by experimental argument that we can truly affirm that the sun and moon and other planets exert their influences in earthly affairs.”[170] Or, as he says in another passage, “And indeed many other innumerable things happen on earth in accordance with the courses of the stars, and pass unnoticed by the senses of most men, but are discovered and understood by the subtle acumen of learned men who are skilled in this art.”[171] Pedro’s letter further includes some astrological medicine, interesting in connection with the statement in another manuscript that he was the physician of Henry I of England. In this context, too, he shows familiarity with the translations from the Arabic of Constantinus Africanus.[172]

Pedro’s Disciplina clericalis,[173] although a collection of oriental tales rather than a work of natural science,[174] contains one or two passages of interest to us. Asked by a disciple what the seven arts are, the master gives a list somewhat different from the common Latin trivium and quadrivium, namely, logic, arithmetic, geometry, physics, music, and astronomy. As to the seventh there is some dispute, he says. Philosophers who believe in divination make necromancy the seventh; other philosophers who do not believe in predictions substitute philosophy; while persons who are ignorant of philosophy affirm that grammar is one of the seven arts.[175] Thus while Pedro retains all four arts of the quadrivium, he holds only to logic in the case of the trivium, omitting rhetoric entirely and tending to substitute physics and necromancy for it and grammar. This tendency away from belles-lettres to a curriculum made up of logic and philosophy, mathematical and natural science, also soon became characteristic of Latin learning, while the tendency to include necromancy as one of the liberal arts or natural sciences, although less successful, will be found in other writers who are to be considered in this chapter. In the passage just discussed the importance of the number seven also receives emphasis, as the master goes on to speak of other sevens than the arts. One is impressed also in reading the Disciplina clericalis by a sceptical note concerning magic and the marvelous properties of natural objects, as in the tale of the thief who repeated a charm seven times and tried to take hold of a moonbeam, but as a result fell and was captured, and in the tale of the Churl and the Bird, who promised his captor, if released, to reveal three pieces of wisdom.[176] The first was not to believe everyone. “This saide,” in the quaint wording of the medieval English version, “the litel brid ascendid vpon the tree and with a sweete voice bigan to synge: ‘Blessid be god that hath shit and closed the sight of thyn eyen and taken awey thi wisdam, forwhi if thow haddest sought in the plites of myn entrailes thow shuldest have founde a jacinct the weight of an vnce.’” When the churl wept and beat his breast at this announcement of his lost opportunity, the bird again warned him not to be so credulous. “And how belivistow that in me shuld be a jacynt the weight of an vnce, whan I and al my body is nat of somoche weight?”

Apparently the chief and most voluminous translator of astrological works from Arabic into Latin in the twelfth century was John of Seville.[177] Although he translated some other mathematical, medical, and philosophical treatises, the majority of his translations seem to have been astrological, and they remained in use during the later middle ages and many of them appeared in print in early editions. So many Johns[178] are mentioned in medieval manuscripts and even wrote in almost the same fields as John of Seville that it is not easy to distinguish his works. Jourdain identified him with a John Avendeath or Avendehut (Joannes ibn David) who worked with the archdeacon Gundissalinus under the patronage of Raymond, archbishop of Toledo from 1126 to 1151.[179] John of Seville was perhaps not the man who worked with Gundissalinus[180] but he certainly appears to have addressed translations to Archbishop Raymond. Thus in speaking of Costa ben Luca’s De differentia spiritus et animae we saw that the manuscripts stated that it was translated by John of Seville from Arabic into Latin for Archbishop Raymond of Toledo.[181] John of Seville is further styled of Luna or Limia, in one manuscript as bishop of Luna,[182] and also seems to be the same person as John of Toledo or of Spain. In one of the citations of the Speculum astronomiae of Albertus Magnus he is called “Joannes Ulgembus Hispalensis.”[183] John Paulinus, who translated a collection of twelve experiments with snakeskin entitled Life-saver which he discovered when he “was in Alexandria, a city of the Egyptians,” is in at least one manuscript of his translation identified with John of Spain.[184]

Certain dates in the career of John of Seville may be regarded as fairly well fixed. In the Arabic year 529, or 1135 A. D., he translated the Rudiments of Astronomy of Alfraganus (Ahmed b. Muh. b. Ketîr el-Fargânî, or Al-Fargani)[185]; in 1142 A. D. he compiled his own Epitome of the Art of Astrology or Quadripartite Work of Judgments of the Stars,[186] consisting of Isagoge in astrologiam and four books of judgments. In 1153 A. D. he translated the Nativities of Albohali[187] (Yahyâ b. Gâlib, Abû Alî el-Chaiyât), if we accept the “John of Toledo” who is said to have translated that treatise as the same person as our John of Spain.[188] John of Spain is sometimes said to have died in 1157, but Förster argued that the Tarasia, queen of Spain, to whom the medical portion of the pseudo-Aristotelian Secret of Secrets, translated by John of Spain, was dedicated, was not the queen of Portugal contemporary with Archbishop Raymond of Toledo, but queen of Leon from 1176 to 1180; and in 1175 a monk of Mt. Tabor is called Johannes Hispanus.[189] If a Vienna manuscript is correct in saying that a marvelous cure for a sore heel which it contains was sent to Pope Gregory by John of Spain, the pope meant must be Gregory VIII (1187).[190] There is of course no impossibility in the supposition that the literary career of John of Spain extended from the days of Archbishop Raymond to those of Gregory VIII or Queen Tarasia. Still there is some doubt whether all the works extant under the name John of Spain were composed by the same individual.[191]

Several books dealing with the science of judgments from the stars by John of Spain are included in the bibliography of deserving works of astrology in the Speculum Astronomiae of Albertus Magnus, but are perhaps simply sections of his Epitome[192] which, after discussing in the Isagoge the natures of the signs and planets, takes up in turn the four main divisions of judicial astrology, namely; conjunctions and revolutions, nativities, interrogations, and elections. John seems to have translated several astrological treatises by Albumasar and Messahala (Mâ-sâ-allâh), the treatise by Thebit ben Corat on astrological images of which we have already treated, that by Abenragel (ʿAli b. abî’l-Rigâl, abû’l-Hasan) on elections, and the Introduction to the Mystery of Judgments from the Stars by Alchabitius or Alcabitius[193] (ʿAbdelʿazîz b. ʿOtmân el-Qabîsî), which should not be confused with his own somewhat similar Ysagoge. Of other translations by John of Spain, such as a portion of the Secret of Secrets of the Pseudo-Aristotle, the twelve experiments with pulverized snakeskin, and Costa ben Luca’s De differentia spiritus et animae, we treat elsewhere. He was perhaps also the author of a chiromancy.[194]

The experimental character of John’s own handbook on astrology is worth noting. In the main, it is true, he follows the works of the philosophers and astrologers of the past, especially when he finds them in agreement.[195] Besides constantly alluding to what astrologers in general or the ancients say on the point in question, he often cites of the Greeks Ptolemy and Dorotheus (“Dorothius”) and Hermes and Doronius, but probably through Arabic mediums. He also gives us the views of the masters of India, and distinguishes as “more recent masters of this art”[196] the Arabic writers “Alchindus” and Messahala. The latter he seems to regard as an Indian or at least as skilful in their methods of judgment.[197] But he also notes when his authorities are in disagreement[198] or points out that his own experience in many nativities contradicts their views,[199] against which John’s readers are warned when they find them in the books of judgments. Even Ptolemy is twice criticized on the basis of actual experiment.[200] We see that John was not merely a translator or writer on astrology but an expert practitioner of the art. He supplements the divergent views of past authorities, or qualifies their consensus of opinion, by his own apparently rich experience as a practicing or experimental astrologer. Indeed, for him the theory and practice of the art, the paths of reason and experience, are so united that he not merely speaks of “this reasoning” or view as being “tested by experience,”[201] but seems to employ the words ratio and experimentum somewhat indiscriminately for astrological tenet or technique.[202]

The chief known work of Gundissalinus, the archdeacon who was for a time perhaps associated with John of Spain in the labor of translation, is his De divisione philosophiae, [203] a treatise which owes much to the Turkoman Al-Farabi (Muh. b. Muh. b. Tarchân b. Uzlag, Abû Nasr, el-Fârâbî). If Baur is right in thinking that Gundissalinus made use of translations by Gerard of Cremona, 1114-1187, in the De divisione philosophiae,[204] it would appear to be a later work than his translating for Archbishop Raymond, 1130-1150, which perhaps began as early as 1133.[205]

In the classification and description of the sciences which make up the bulk of the De divisione philosophiae Gundissalinus gives a certain place to the occult arts. At the beginning of the book, it is true, the magic arts are not classed among useful things of the spirit like the virtues and true sciences (honestae scientiae). Neither, however, are they grouped with pride, avarice, and vain glory as harmful vices, but are merely classed along with worldly honors as vanities. [206] “Nigromancy according to physics,” however, is later listed as one of eight sub-divisions of natural science together with alchemy, medicine, agriculture, navigation, the science of mirrors, and the sciences of images and of judgments.[207] Gundissalinus was innocent, however, of any detailed knowledge of necromancy or indeed of any of the other sub-divisions except medicine. He explains that he has not yet advanced as far as these subjects in his studies.[208] He is manifestly simply copying an Arabic classification, probably from Al-Farabi’s De ortu scientiarum, and one of which we find similar traces in other medieval Christian authors.[209]

This little treatise on The Rise of the Sciences by Al-Farabi, although it occupies only a leaf or two in the manuscripts and has only recently been printed,[210] is a rather important one to note, as other of its statements than its eight sub-divisions of natural science seem to be paralleled in medieval Latin writers. There seems, for instance, a resemblance between its attitude towards the sciences and classification of them and that of Roger Bacon in the Opus Maius.[211] Al-Farabi believes in God the Creator, as his opening words show, and he regards “divine science” as the end and perfection of the other sciences; “and beyond it investigation does not go, for it is itself the goal to which all inquiry tends.”[212] At the same time Al-Farabi emphasizes the importance of natural science, adding its eight parts to the four divisions of the quadrivium—arithmetic, geometry, astrology, and music, and saying, “Moreover, this last (i. e. natural) science is greater and broader than any of those sciences and disciplines (or, than any of those disciplinary sciences).” We need a science, he says in effect, which deals inclusively with changes in nature, showing how they are brought about and their causes and enabling us to repel their harmful action when we wish or to augment them,—a science of action and passion.[213] This suggestion of applied science and of a connection between it and magic also reminds one of Roger Bacon, as does Al-Farabi’s statement later that the beginning of all sciences is the science of language.

Both for Al-Farabi and Gundissalinus the sciences of images and judgments were undoubtedly astrological. Gundissalinus himself believes that the spiritual virtue of the celestial bodies is the efficient cause, ordained by the Creator, of generation, corruption, and other natural operations in this corporeal world. He defines astrologia as we would astronomy, while he explains that astronomia is the science of answering questions from the position of the planets and signs. There are many such sciences,—geomancy, hydromancy, aeromancy, pyromancy, chiromancy, and augury; but astronomy is superior to the rest because it predicts what will befall upon earth from the dispositions of the heavenly bodies. Gundissalinus also repeats Isidore’s distinction between astronomia and astrologia, and between the natural and superstitious varieties of “astronomy.”[214]

At this point it may be well to note briefly a later work with a very similar title to that of Gundissalinus, namely, the De ortu sive divisione scientiarum of Robert Kilwardby, [215] archbishop of Canterbury from 1272 to 1279. The work borrows a great deal from Isidore, Hugh of St. Victor, and Gundissalinus. One of its more original passages is that in which Kilwardby suggests an alteration in Hugh’s division of the mechanical arts, omitting theatrical performances as more suited to Gentiles than Catholics, and arranging the mechanical arts in a trivium consisting of earth-culture, food-science, and medicine, and a quadrivium made up of costuming, armor-making, architecture, and business-courses (mercatura), after the analogy of the seven liberal arts.[216] Kilwardby, as has been already noted elsewhere, repeats Hugh’s classification of the magic arts.[217]

Next in importance to John of Spain as a translator of Arabic astrology in the first half of the twelfth century should probably be ranked Plato of Tivoli. They seem to have worked independently and sometimes to have made distinct translations of the same work, as in the case of the Nativities of Albohali and the Epistle of Messahala. On the whole, Plato’s translations[218] would appear slightly to antedate John’s. Haskins has shown, however, that the date 1116, hitherto assigned for Plato’s translation of the Liber embadorum of Savasorda, should be 1145.[219] But Plato’s translation of Albohali is dated 1136, while John’s was not made until 1153.[220] In 1136 is also dated Plato’s translation of the astrological work of Almansor in the form of one hundred and fifty or so brief aphorisms, judgments, propositions, or capitula, which later appeared repeatedly in print. Two years later he turned the famous Quadripartitum of Ptolemy into Latin. His other translations include Albucasis (Abû’l-Qâsim Chalaf b. ʿAbbâs el-Zahrâwî) on the astrolabe, Haly (ʿAlî b. Ridwân b. ʿAlî b. Ğaʿfar, Abû’l-Hasan) on nativities, and a geomancy. Most of Plato’s translations were produced at Barcelona.

In a manuscript at the British Museum[221] one of Plato of Tivoli’s translations is immediately preceded in the same large clear hand, different from the smaller and later writing employed in the remainder of the manuscript, by a translation of the Judgments of the astrologer Alkindi by Robert of Chester,[222] with an introduction to “my Hermann,” whom Robert commends highly as an astronomer. A letter written in 1143 by Peter the Venerable to St. Bernard tells how in 1141 he had induced two “acute and well trained scholars,” who were then residing in Spain near the river Ebro, to turn for a time from the arts of astrology which they had been studying there, and to translate the Koran. These two translators were the friends whom we have just mentioned, Hermann of Dalmatia and Robert of Chester. Robert, too, tells us in the prefatory letter to the translation of the Koran, completed in 1143, that this piece of work was “a digression from his principal studies of astronomy and geometry.” Besides such mathematical treatises as his translations of the Judicia of Alkindi, the Algebra of Al-Khowarizmi, a treatise on the astrolabe ascribed to Ptolemy, and several sets of astronomical tables, including a revision or rearrangement of Adelard of Bath’s translation of the Tables of Al-Khowarizmi, Robert on February 11, 1144, translated a treatise on alchemy which Morienus Romanus, a monk of Jerusalem, was supposed to have written for “Calid, king of Egypt,” or Prince Khalid ibn Jazid, a Mohammedan pretender and patron of learning at Alexandria. Of it we shall treat more fully in another chapter. About 1150 we seem to find Robert returned to his native England and writing at London.[223]

Hermann the Dalmatian, or twelfth century translator, must be distinguished on the one hand from Hermann the Lame who wrote on the astrolabe,[224] and apparently on the other hand from Hermann the German who translated Averroes and Aristotle in the thirteenth century.[225] To the twelfth century translator we may ascribe such works as a treatise on rains,[226] a brief glossary of Arabic astronomical terms,[227] and Latin versions of the Planisphere of Ptolemy,[228] of the astrological Fatidica of Zahel,[229] and of the Introduction to Astronomy in eight books of the noted Arabic astrologer Albumasar, a work often entitled Searching of the Heart or Of Things Occult.[230] Hermann dedicated it to Robert of Chester, whom he also mentions in the preface of his translation of the Planisphere,[231] and in his chief work, the De essentiis, a cosmology which he finished at Béziers in the latter part of the same year 1143.[232]

Hugo Sanctelliensis or Hugh of Santalla[233] is another translator of the first half of the twelfth century in the Spanish peninsula who appears to have worked independently of the foregoing men, since he to some extent translated the same works, for instance, the Centiloquium ascribed to Ptolemy, Latin versions of which have also been credited to Plato of Tivoli and John of Seville. Hugh’s translations are undated but at least some of them may have antedated those of the men already mentioned,[234] since Haskins has identified Hugh’s patron, “my lord, Bishop Michael,” with the holder of the see of Tarazona from 1119 to 1151. Hugh’s nine known translations are concerned with works of astronomy, astrology, and divination. Those on astrology include, besides the Centiloquium already mentioned, Albumasar’s Book of Rains, Messahala on nativities, and a Book of Aristotle from 255 volumes of the Indians, of which we shall have more to say in the chapter on the Pseudo-Aristotle. The works on other forms of divination are a geomancy[235] and De spatula, a treatise on divination from the shoulder-blades of animals. In the preface to the geomancy he promises to treat next of hydromancy but says that he has failed to find books of aeromancy or pyromancy.[236] Although, as has been said, Hugh seems to have labored independently of the other translators and in a somewhat out-of-the-way town, he nevertheless seems to have felt himself in touch with the learning of his time. In his various prefaces, like William of Conches, he speaks of “moderns” as well as the arcana of the ancients,[237] and his patron is continually urging him to write not only what he has gathered from the books of the ancients but what he has learned by experiment.[238] In the preface to his translation of Albumasar’s Book of Rains he tells Bishop Michael that “what the modern astrologers of the Gauls most bemoan their lack of, your benignity may bestow upon posterity,”[239] and the distribution of manuscripts of his translations in European libraries indicates that they were widely influential.

The best source for the life and works of Gerard of Cremona[240] (1114-1187) is a memorandum attached by his friends to what was presumably his last work, a translation of the Tegni of Galen with the commentary of Haly, in imitation of Galen who in old age was induced to draw up a list of his own works. Gerard, however, is already dead when his associates write, having worked right up to life’s close and passed away in 1187 at the age of seventy-three. They state that from the very cradle he was educated in the lap of philosophy, and that he learned all he could in every department of it studied among the Latins. Then, moved by his passion for the Almagest, which he found nowhere among the Latins, he came to Toledo. There, beholding the abundance of books in every field in Arabic and the poverty of the Latins in this respect, he devoted his life to the labor of translation, scorning the desires of the flesh, although he was rich in worldly goods, and adhering to things of the spirit alone. He toiled for the advantage of all both present and future, not unmindful of the injunction of Ptolemy to work good increasingly as you near your end. Now, that his name may not be hidden in silence and darkness, and that no alien name may be inscribed by presumptuous thievery in his translations, the more so since he (like Galen) never signed his own name to any of them, they have drawn up a list of all the works translated by him whether in dialectic or geometry, in “astrology” or philosophy, in medicine or in the other sciences.[241]

Another contemporary picture of Gerard’s activity at Toledo is provided us by the Englishman, Daniel of Morley, or de Merlai, who went to Spain to study the sciences of the quadrivium. He tells how Gerard of Toledo (Gerardus tholetanus), interpreting the Almagest in Latin with the aid of Galippus, the Mozarab,[242] asserted that various future events followed necessarily from the movements and influences of the stars. Daniel was at first astounded by this utterance and brought forward the arguments against the mathematici or astrologers in the homily of St. Gregory. But Gerard answered them all glibly. It should perhaps be added that in another passage Daniel without mentioning Gerard speaks of setting down in Latin what he learned concerning the universe in the speech of Toledo from Galippus, the Mozarab.[243] Gerard’s translation of the Almagest seems to have been completed in 1175,[244] but meanwhile in Sicily an anonymous translation from the Greek had appeared, probably soon after 1160. Of it we shall presently have something to say. Gerard’s version was, however, the generally accepted one, as the number of manuscripts and citations of it show.

But to return to the list of Gerard’s translations. Only three of the long list are strictly dialectical, Aristotle’s Posterior Analytics, the commentary of Themistius upon them, and Alfarabi on the syllogism. And only one or two of the translations listed under the heading De phylosophya are pure philosophy.[245] Most of Gerard’s work is mathematical and medical, natural and occult science. He translates Ptolemy and Euclid; Archimedes, Galen and Aristotle; Autolycus and Theodosius; and such writers in Arabic as Alkindi, Alfarabi, Albucasis, Alfraganus, Messahala, Thebit, Geber, Alhazen, Isaac, Rasis, and Avicenna. His mathematical translations include the fields of algebra and perspective as well as geometry and astronomy. Of Aristotle’s natural philosophy the list includes the Physics, De coelo et mundo, De generatione et corruptione, De meteoris except the fourth and last book which he could not find,[246] and the first part of the astrological De causis proprietatum et elementorum ascribed to Aristotle. Among his translations of Galen was the apocryphal De secretis, of which we shall have more to say in a later chapter on books of experiments. Three treatises of alchemy are included in the list of his translations and also a geomancy, although Boncompagni tries to saddle the latter upon Gerardus de Sabloneto. Gerard is also supposed to have translated some works not mentioned in this list but ascribed to him in the manuscripts. One of interest to us is a work on stones of the Pseudo-Aristotle.[247]