CHAPTER III

PLINY’S NATURAL HISTORY

We should have to search long before finding a better starting-point for

the consideration of the union of magic with the science of the Roman

Empire and of the way in which that union influenced the Middle Ages

than Pliny’s _Natural History_. Its encyclopedic character affords a

bird’s-eye view of our entire subject. Its varied contents suggest

practically all the themes of our discussion in succeeding chapters.

Chronologically considered, it is satisfactory as an introduction, since

it appeared in the early part of the Empire (77 A. D.).

I. _The character of the work._—Pliny’s treatise is far more than what

we understand by a “Natural History.” It is an attempt to cover the

whole field of science; _rerum natura_ is its subject.[53] This, as

Pliny says, is a task which no single Greek or Roman has before

attempted. He tells us that he treats of some 20,000 topics gleaned from

the perusal of about 2,000 volumes, with the addition of many facts not

contained in previous works and only recently brought to light.[54] At

first thought, then, the _Natural History_, vast in its scope and

constituting a summary of the views of previous authorities, would seem

the best single example of the science of the classical world. The fact

that it touches upon many of the varieties and illustrates most of the

characteristics of magic makes it the more fitting a starting-point for

us. Indeed, Pliny makes frequent mention of the Magi, and in the opening

chapters of his thirtieth book gives the most important extant

discussion of magic by an ancient writer.

It is true, however, that Pliny does not seem to have been a man of much

scientific training and experience. He said himself that his days were

taken up with the performance of public duties, and that consequently

his scientific labors were largely carried on in the evening hours.[55]

Probably we should regard his book as little more than a compilation,

and perhaps no very judicious compilation at that, in view of his maxim

that there is no book so bad but that some good may be got from it.[56]

Perhaps we may not unjustly picture him to ourselves as collecting his

material in a rather haphazard fashion; as not always aware of the

latest theories or discoveries; as occasionally citing a fantastic

writer instead of a more sober one; or as quoting incorrectly statements

which his limited scientific knowledge prevented him from comprehending.

Perhaps, too, he derived some of his data directly from popular report

and superstition. Certainly to us to-day his work seems a disorderly and

indiscriminate conglomeration of fact and legend on all sorts of

subjects—disorderly, in that its author does not seem to have made any

effort to sift his material, to compare and arrange his facts, even in

his own mind; indiscriminate, in that Pliny seems to lack any standard

of judgment between the true and the false, and to deem almost nothing

too improbable, silly or indelicate to be mentioned. Ought we to

consider such a work as truly representative of the beliefs of preceding

centuries, or as an example of the best educated thought and science of

its author’s own age? This is a question which we must consider.

Yet as we read Pliny’s pages we feel that he possessed elements of

greatness. If he was equipped with little scientific training or

experience, we should remember that little training or experience was

necessary to deal with the science of those days. At least he sacrificed

his life in an effort to investigate natural phenomena. Moreover, his

faults were probably to a great extent common to his age. The tendency

to regard anything written as of at least some value did not begin with

him. Material had often before been collected in a haphazard manner.

Lewes, in his book on the science of Aristotle, has described with truth

even the famous _History of Animals_ as unclassified in arrangement and

careless in the selection of material.[57] Many of Pliny’s marvelous

assertions and absurd remedies purport to be from the works of men of

note, although possibly he was sometimes deceived by spurious writings.

He frequently gives us to understand that he himself intends to maintain

a cautious and critical frame of mind, and he makes great pretensions to

immunity from that credulousness of human nature over which he will

occasionally smile or philosophize.[58] When we take up Aristotle’s

_History of Animals_ and Seneca’s _Natural Questions_, it will become

evident that Pliny’s “science” was not very different in quality from

that of the Greeks or from that of his own age. If he seldom gives us a

clear-cut or complete exposition of a subject, it is probably because

there was seldom one to be found. If he seems in a chronic state of

mental confusion and incoherency, it is because his task staggered him.

His work was by its nature so far impersonal that we can attribute its

defects only in part to his personality.

On the whole, then, we probably shall not be greatly misled if we regard

the _Historia Naturalis_ as a sort of epitome of what men had believed

about nature in the past or did believe in Pliny’s own day. The author

may not have portrayed past and present thought at their best but he

portrayed them, and that in detail. “The greatest gull of antiquity”[59]

was the Boswell of ancient science.

Pliny makes almost as good a representative of mediæval science as of

that of the Roman world, and thus well illustrates the influence which

the one had upon the other. Indeed not only is the _Natural History_

just the sort of work that delighted the Middle Ages, but Pliny seems to

have exerted a considerable direct influence on writers down through the

sixteenth century. Isidore of Seville practically copied his unfavorable

comments on the magi and his discussion of the powers of stones.[60]

Bede seems to have owed a good deal to him. Alcuin openly praised that

“most devoted investigator of nature.”[61] Roger Bacon quoted him; the

_Natural History_ was a mine whence Agrippa dug much of the material for

his _Occult Philosophy_ and to which Porta seems equally indebted in his

_Natural Magic_.

II. _Pliny’s discussion of magic._—Before illustrating Pliny’s

combination of magical lore with true and sane statements about nature,

we should consider his discussion of what he was pleased to call magic;

for just as he prided himself upon his freedom from excessive credulity

in the abstract, so in regard to magic in particular he seems to have

flattered himself that his position was quite different from what it

actually was.

Pliny did have, however, a fairly clear idea of the extensive scope of

magic as well as of its great age and currency. Not only did he declare

that of all known arts it had exerted the greatest influence in every

land and in almost every age, but “no one,” he said, “should wonder that

its authority has been very great, since it alone has embraced and

combined into one the three other subjects which appeal most powerfully

to man’s mind.”[62] For magic had invaded the domain of religion and had

also made astrology a part of itself,[63] while “no one doubts that it

originally sprang from medicine and crept in under the show of promoting

health as a loftier and more holy medicine.”[64] Indeed, he thinks that

the development of magic and of medicine have been parallel[65] and that

the latter is now in imminent danger of being overwhelmed by the follies

of magic which have made men doubt whether plants possess any medicinal

properties at all.[66] Pliny, moreover, sees the connection of magic

with the lore of the magi of Persia. Indeed, “magus” is his only word

for a magician. But this does not lead him to admit what some

persons—the philosopher Eudoxus, for instance—have asserted, that magic

is the most splendid and useful branch of philosophy.[67] For Pliny,

magic is always something reprehensible.

The magi are either fools or imposters. They are a _genus

vanissimum_.[68] They believe such absurdities as that herbs can dry up

swamps and rivers, open all barriers, turn hostile battle-lines in

flight, and insure their possessor, wherever he may be, abundant

provision for every need.[69] They make statements which Pliny thinks

must have been dictated by a feeling of contempt and derision for the

human race. They affirm that gems carved with the names of sun and moon

and attached to the neck by hairs of the cynocephalus and feathers of

the swallow will neutralize the effect of potions, win audience with

kings, and, with the aid of some additional ceremony, ward off hail and

locusts.[70] They have the impudence to assert that the stone

“heliotropium,” combined with the plant of the same name and with due

incantations, renders its bearer invisible.[71] “Vanitas” is Pliny’s

stock-word for their statements. Nero proved how hollow are their

pretenses by the fact that, although he was most eagerly devoted to the

pursuit of magic arts and had every opportunity to acquire skill in

them, he was unable to effect any marvels through their agency and

abandoned the study of them.[72]

Moreover, magi or magicians deal with the inhuman, the obscene and the

abominable. Osthanes, and even the philosopher Democritus, are led by

their devotion to magic into propounding such remedies as drinking human

blood or utilizing in magic compounds or ceremonies portions of the

corpses of men violently slain.[73] Magic is a malicious and criminal

art. Its devotees attempt the transfer of disease from one person to

another or the exercise of baleful sorcery.[74] “It cannot be

sufficiently estimated how great a debt is due the Romans who did away

with those monstrous rites in which to slay a man was most pious; nay

more, to eat men most wholesome.”[75] In fine, we may rest persuaded

that magic is “execrable, ineffectual and inane.” Yet it possesses some

shadow of truth, but is of avail through “veneficas artes ... non

magicas,”[76] whatever that distinction may be.

III. _Illustrations of Pliny’s fundamental belief in magic._—Pliny, we

have seen, made a bold pretense of utter disbelief in magic, and also

censured the art on grounds of decency, morality and humanity. Yet

despite this wholesale condemnation, in some places in his work it is

difficult to tell where his quotations from magicians cease and where

statements which he accepts recommence. Sometimes he explicitly quoted

theories or facts from the writings of the “magi” without censure and

without any expression of disbelief. If it is contended that he none the

less regarded them as false and worthless, we may fairly ask, why then

did he give them such a prominent place in his encyclopedia? Surely we

must conclude either that he really had a liking for them himself and

more than half believed them, or that previous works on nature were so

full of such material and his own age so interested in such data that he

could not but include much of this lore. Probably both alternatives are

true. Finally, many things which Pliny states without any reference to

the magi seem as false and absurd as the far-fetched assertions which he

attributes to them and for which he shows so much scorn. Indeed, it

hardly seems paradoxical to say that he hated the magi but liked their

doctrines.

What clearer example of magic could one ask than the conclusion that the

odor of the burning horn of a stag has the power of dispelling serpents,

because enmity exists between stags and snakes, and the former track the

latter to their holes and extract the snakes thence, despite all

resistance, by the power of their breath? Or that on this same account

the sovereign remedy for snake-bite comes “ex coagulo hinnulei matris in

utero occisi?” Or that, since the stag is not subject to fever, the

eating of its flesh will prevent that disease, especially if the animal

has died of a single wound? What more magical than to fancy that the

longest tooth of a fish could have any efficacy in the cure of fever? Or

that excluding the person who had tied it on from the sight of the

patient for five days would complete a perfect charm? Or that wearing as

an amulet the carcass of a frog, minus the claws and wrapped in a piece

of russet-colored cloth, would be of any aid against disease?[77] Yet

the _Natural History_ is full of such things.

To plants, for example, Pliny assigns powers no less marvelous than

those which he has attributed to animals. There is one plant which, held

in the hand, has a beneficial effect upon the groin;[78] another

overcomes the asp with torpor, and hence, beaten up with oil, is a

remedy for the sting of that snake.[79] Fern, he says, if mowed down

with the edge of a reed or uprooted by a ploughshare on which a reed has

been placed, will not spring up again.[80] Moreover, in his

twenty-fourth book, immediately after having announced that he has

sufficiently discussed for the present the marvelous properties

attributed to herbs by the magi,[81] he proceeds to mention the

following remedies. One is a quick cure for headache, and consists in

gathering a plant growing on the head of a statue and attaching it to

your neck with a red string. Another is a cure for tertian fever, and

consists in plucking a certain herb before sunrise on the banks of a

stream and in fastening it to the patient’s left arm without his

knowledge. A third recipe instructs us that plants which have taken root

in a sieve that has been thrown into a hedge-row “decerptae

adalligataeque gravidis partus adcelerant.” A fourth would have herbs

growing on dunghills a cure for quinzy, and a fifth assures us that

sprains may be speedily cured by the application of a plant “iuxta quam

canes urinam fundunt,” torn up by the roots and not allowed to touch

iron.[82]

Coming to minerals we find Pliny rather more reticent in regard to

strange qualities. His account of gems is written mainly from the

jeweler’s point of view. When marvelous powers are mentioned, the magi

are usually made responsible, and such powers are frequently rejected as

absurd. Pliny, however, grants some magic properties in certain stones.

Molochitis, by some medicinal power which it possesses, guards infants

against dangers;[83] and eumecas, placed beneath the head at night,

causes oracular visions.[84] To water Pliny allows powers which we must

regard as magical, for according to him certain rivers pass under the

sea because of their hatred of it.[85]

In man, moreover, as well as in other creatures upon earth, there is

magic power. Pliny mentions men whose eyes are able to exert strong

fascination,[86] others who fill serpents with terror and can cure

snake-bite by merely touching the wound, and others who by their

presence addle eggs in the vicinity.[87] Pliny takes up the power of

words and incantations in connection with man. Whether they have potency

beyond what we expect ordinary speech to possess is a great and

unanswered question. Our ancestors, Pliny says, always believed so, and

in every-day life we often unconsciously accept such a view ourselves.

If, for instance, we believe that the Vestal virgins can, by an

imprecation, stop runaway slaves who are still within the city limits,

we must accept the whole theory of the power of words. But, taken as

individuals, the wisest men lack faith in the doctrine.[88]

Pliny, then, believed in the possession of magic properties by well-nigh

all varieties of terrestrial substances, nay even by colors and numbers,

and in strange relations of occult sympathy, love and hatred between

different things in the realm of nature. His acceptance of ceremony as

efficacious has also been brought out to some extent. We have seen him

attributing importance to death from a single wound, to suspension by a

single hair, to fastening an amulet without the patient’s knowledge, or

to the absence for a time from the patient’s sight of the person who

attached it. We will consider one or two more such instances among the

many which exist in his pages.

He who gathers the iris should be in a state of chastity. Three months

beforehand let him soak the ground around the plant with hydromel—as a

sort of atonement to appease the earth. When he comes to pluck it, he

should first trace three circles about it with the point of a sword,

and, the moment he plucks it, raise it aloft towards the heavens.[89] In

another passage, in connection with the application of a mixture to an

inflammatory tumor, Pliny says that persons of experience regard it as

very important that the poultice be applied by a naked virgin and that

both she and the patient be fasting. Touching the sufferer with the back

of her hand, she is to say, “Apollo forbids a disease to increase which

a naked virgin restrains.” Then, withdrawing her hand, she is to repeat

the same words thrice and to join with the patient in spitting on the

ground each time.[90]

Pliny occasionally prefaces his marvelous remedies by some such

expression as “it is said.” This circumstance is scarcely to be taken as

a sign of mental reservation, however, as the following absurd

statement, which he makes upon his own authority and declares is easily

tested by experiment, will indicate. “If a person repents of a blow

given to another, either by hand or with a missile, let him spit at once

into the palm of the hand which inflicted the blow, and all resentment

in the person struck will instantly vanish.” This is often proved,

according to Pliny, in the case of beasts of burden, which can be

induced to increase their speed by this method after the use of the whip

has failed.[91]

One can, perhaps, make some distinction between the strange influences

which Pliny credited and the statements of the magi which he rejected. I

believe that he did not go to the length of affirming that plants or

parts of animals could cause panics, procure provisions, win you royal

favor, gain for you vengeance on your enemies, or make you invisible.

But he was inconsistent enough. After asserting that a single fish but a

few inches long could immediately arrest the progress of the largest

vessel by attaching itself to the keel of the ship,[92] was it for him

to declare false the notion that a stone can calm winds or ward off hail

and swarms of locusts? He characterized as “idle talk” the assertion of

the magi that the stone “gorgonia” counteracted fascination,[93] but he

had already written: “Id quoque convenit, quo nihil equidem libentius

crediderim, tactis omnino menstruo postibus inritas fieri magorum artes,

generis vanissimi, ut aestimare licet.”[94] Apparently, then, the only

charge which he could bring against magicians without reflecting upon

himself was that of malicious and criminal practices. His beliefs were

much like theirs.

Indeed, the varieties of magic in the _Natural History_ have not yet

been exhausted. For one thing, we must consider Pliny’s position in

regard to magic properties of the stars as well as of terrestrial

matter. He believed in astrology, at least to some extent, although one

might not think it if one read only the passage in which he speaks of

the debt of gratitude mankind owe to the great geniuses who have freed

them from superstitious fear of eclipses.[95] He could, nevertheless, in

naming some prominent personage in each of the primary arts and

sciences, mention Berosus, to whom a public statue has been erected by

the Athenians in honor of his skill in prognostication, in connection

with astrology.[96]

Pliny himself holds that the universe is a divinity, “holy eternal,

vast, all in all—nay, in truth is itself all,” a proposition rather

favorable to astrological theory.[97] The sun is the mind and soul of

the whole world and the chief governor of nature.[98] The planets affect

each other. A cold star renders another approaching it pale; a hot star

causes its neighbor to redden; a windy planet gives those near it a

lowering aspect.[99] Saturn is cold and rigid; Mars a flaming fire;

Jupiter, located between them, is temperate and salubrious.[100] When

the planets reach a certain point in their orbits, they are deflected

from their regular course by the rays of the sun.[101]

Besides effects upon each other the planets exert especial influence

upon the earth. “Potentia autem ad terram magnopere eorum

pertinens.”[102] They govern, each according to its nature, the weather

on our globe.[103] The planets also have great influence upon diseases

and on animal and plant life in general, although Pliny does not dwell

upon this point at any length.[104] The moon, a feminine and nocturnal

star, stirs up humors on earth and is powerful in producing putrefaction

and corruption in matter.[105] By the nature of Venus every thing on

earth is generated.[106]

To what extent the planets rule man’s life Pliny does not specify—an

instance of prudent reticence on his part, if he really consciously

avoided the question. He disclaims any belief in the vulgar notion that

a star, varying in brightness according to our wealth, is assigned to

each of us, and that the eternal stars rise and fade at the birth or

death of insignificant mortals. “Non tanta caelo societas nobiscum est

ut nostro fato mortalis sit ibi quoque siderum fulgor.”[107] But thus to

deny that the stars are ruled by man’s destiny or doings is far from

refusing to believe that men’s lives are ordered by the stars. Pliny, as

we have seen, holds that Venus has a considerable influence over the

process of birth in all animals. Also he certainly accepts the

portentous character of various particular celestial phenomena. “From

the stars celestial fire is vomited forth bearing omens of the

future.”[108] He gives instances from Roman history of comets which

signalled disaster, expounds the theory that their significance is to be

determined from the direction in which they move and the heavenly body

whose powers they receive, and states that the particular phase of life

to which they apply may be deduced from the shape which they assume or

from their position in relation to the signs of the zodiac.[109]

Pliny’s belief in portents seems to have been general and not limited to

celestial phenomena. In a passage on earthquakes he declares, “Never has

the city of Rome shaken but that this was a forewarning of some future

event.”[110]

Pliny is less certain in regard to the superstitious observances so

common then, to secure good luck or ward off evil fortune. In chapter

five of his twenty-eighth book he gives quite a list of practices, such

as selecting persons with lucky names to lead the victims at public

lustrations, saluting those who sneeze, placing saliva behind the ear to

escape mental anxiety, removing rings while eating, averting the

ill-omen of mentioning fire at meal-time by pouring water beneath the

table, and other superstitious table etiquette. He cites beliefs of the

same nature, as that odd numbers are for every purpose the more

efficacious, that medicines do no good if placed on a table before being

administered, that baldness and headaches may be prevented by cutting

the hair on the seventeenth and twenty-ninth days of the moon, and that

women who walk along country roads twirling distaffs, or even having

these uncovered, bring very bad luck, especially to the crops. He seems

to have inclined to the belief that there was a modicum of truth, at any

rate, in these notions and customs—and certainly we have already seen

him affirming the validity of analogous practices—but he finally decides

that amid the great variety of opinion existing in the matter he will

not be dogmatic and that each person may think as he deems best. His

attitude is much the same in regard to divination from thunder and

lightning.[111]

With all the foolish notions which he imbibed from antiquity or into

which his mind, over-hospitable to the fantastic and marvelous, led him,

Pliny had one good scientific trait. He might believe in magic but he

had no liking for the esoteric. His mind might be confused but it was

not mystical. He had no desire to hide the “secrets” of science and

philosophy from the public gaze, to wrap them up in obscure and

allegorical verbiage lest the unworthy comprehend them. On the contrary,

he sharply remarked apropos the lack of information about the medicinal

properties of plants, that there was a most shameful reason for this

scarcity, namely, that even those who knew were unwilling to give forth

their knowledge, “as if that would be lost to themselves which they

passed on to others.”[112]

Such, then, is the _Natural History_. Pliny gives evidence that many of

the most intelligent men were coming to doubt a large part of the

superstitious beliefs and observances once universally prevalent, and he

himself makes a brave effort to assume a critical and judicious

attitude. Yet his work contains a great deal of magic and reveals, what

this essay in its entirety will make further evident, the error of such

a statement as the following from Dr. White’s _Warfare of Science and

Theology_:

Under the old Empire a real science was coming in and thought

progressing. Both the theory and practice of magic were more and more

held up to ridicule. Even as early a writer as Ennius ridiculed the

idea that magicians, who were generally poor and hungry themselves,

could bestow wealth on others; Pliny, in his _Natural Philosophy_,

showed at great length their absurdities and cheatery; others followed

in the same line of thought, and the whole theory, except among the

very lowest classes, seemed dying out.[113]

The place of magic in the intellectual history of Europe · 第 3 / 8 章