To put the matter to the proof: we may begin by dismissing altogether from consideration a treatise which has long been attributed to Scot, and still appears in the most recent list of his works: the Quaestio curiosa de natura Solis et Lunae. It has probably received more attention than it deserves since it appeared under Scot’s name in the Theatrum Chemicum.[118] The subject of this treatise is indeed an alchemical one; for the sun and moon of which it speaks are not these heavenly bodies themselves, but, by an allegorical use common in the Middle Ages, and derived from the Eastern theories of sympathy already mentioned, stand for the nobler metals of gold and silver. A brief examination, however, shows that Scot could not have been the author. The very style suggests this conclusion; for it is distinctly scholastic, and proper therefore to a later age than that which aimed at the direct and simple reproduction of Eastern texts. It is satisfactory to find that this criticism, hardly convincing per se, is fully borne out by what occurs in the substance of the work itself. The author quotes from the De Mineralibus of Albertus. Now Albertus Magnus, by common testimony, produced this treatise after the year 1240, and we may anticipate what is afterwards to be told of Michael Scot’s death so far as to say here that he had then been long in his grave. The De Natura Solis et Lunæ then must be ascribed to some other and later alchemist, who lived in the end of the thirteenth or the beginning of the fourteenth century. A more careful examination of the treatise than has been necessary for our purpose might succeed in fixing its date with greater precision, and might possibly throw some light upon the person of its true author.
Another work ascribed to the pen of Michael Scot, and one which seems likely to be authentic, is that contained in the Speciale Manuscript. This volume is one of those collections of alchemical tracts made in the fourteenth century to which we have already alluded. It belonged to the library of the Speciale family in Palermo, and has been made the subject of an interesting monograph by Carini.[119] No. 44 of this manuscript is entitled Liber Magistri Miccaelis Scotti in quo continetur Magisterium. The term Magisterium, or supreme secret of art, would seem to carry with it a certain reference to Aristotle, ‘Il Maestro di color che sanno,’ as Dante calls him.[120] Curious as the appearance of such a name in connection with alchemy may seem to us, it is certain that Aristotle held a high place in the chemical traditions of the Middle Ages. The Meteora afforded a text which lent itself readily to large commentaries by the Arabian chemists. The tract De Mineralibus, which we noticed when speaking of Al Kindi, was one of these commentaries, and it is easy to see how it became confused with the text which it illustrated so as in time to be considered the work of Aristotle himself. This, we may believe, was the ground on which so many alchemical works were afterwards published under the same mighty name.[121] An interesting example appears in the Speciale collection itself which contains the following title: Liber perfecti Magisterii Aristotelis qui incipit cum studii solertis indigere.[122] The treatise Cum studii is also found in the Paris manuscript,[123] where it is ascribed to Rases. To the school of Rases then we are inclined to attribute the works on the Magisterium, and among the rest therefore, this treatise in the Speciale Manuscript, which bears the name of Michael Scot, seemingly because he translated it from the Arabic. This conclusion is confirmed when we notice the character of some of the chapter headings as given by Carini; for example: ‘Qualiter Venus mutatur in Solem’; and again, ‘Transformatio Mercurii in Lunam.’ These show beyond all doubt that the doctrine which Michael Scot published by means of this version was that held by the school of Rases.
A curious question here offers itself for our consideration. In the times of Robert Castrensis alchemy was as yet unknown to the Latins. Michael Scot, as we shall presently see, described it in one of his works as meeting with but a poor reception at its first introduction among them.[124] How then did it come to pass that in a few years the theory of Rases became so popular in the West, and continued for so many ages to direct the progress of chemical study among the European nations with enduring power? We find the explanation of this sudden change in the fact that human thought has always been subject to the tyranny of ruling ideas. In our own day the place of direction is filled by a doctrine of development which is eagerly made use of in every department of knowledge. In those earlier ages the same place seems to have been held by a doctrine of transformation. This idea ruled the thoughts of men like an obsession, in whatever direction they turned their minds. We see it in their superstitions, suggesting the wild tales of were-wolves and of other animal forms assumed at will by wizard and witch. We find it in religion, infusing a new meaning into the hyperbolical language of still earlier times, till, under this direction, there came to be fastened upon the Church a full-formed doctrine of Transubstantiation.[125] It is the operation of the same idea then that we are to remark also in the scientific sphere. As soon as the first shock of their surprise was over, the Latins greedily embraced a theory of chemical change which related itself so naturally to the prevailing habit of their minds, and which promised to show as operative in the mineral kingdom a law already conceived to hold good in the world of organic life.
The Riccardian Library of Florence possesses another of those volumes to which we have already referred: a collection of alchemical treatises formed in the end of the thirteenth or beginning of the fourteenth century.[126] Among these appears one called the Liber Luminis Luminum. It is said to have been translated by Michael Scot, and, as there is no reason to doubt this ascription, we have now the means of determining with some fulness and accuracy the lines on which the philosopher proceeded in his chemical researches.
The book opens with a preface somewhat scholastic,[127] and one which, on this ground as well as on others, is probably to be ascribed to Scot himself. In this part of the work he informs us that he took as his basis in the following compilation a text called the Secreta Naturae. To it he added material derived from other sources, which seemed necessary in order to complete the doctrine of chemistry contained in the Secreta. In this way he endeavoured to present his readers with a full and practical body of Alchemy according to the teaching of the school to which he belonged.
In the study of a composite work, such as the Liber Luminis is thus declared to be, our first problem is naturally to determine and separate the original text from the additions which have been made to it. Which then are those parts of the Liber Luminis that represent the Secreta Naturae? Very fortunately the volume where the Liber Luminis is found contains another treatise that throws considerable light on the matter. This is the Liber Dedali Philosophi. The correspondences between that book and the Liber Luminis are so many, close, and verbal, that it is evident both have borrowed from the same source. This source can hardly have been other than the Secreta Naturae, so that a comparison of these two books such as is attempted in the Appendix[128] should go far to determine what that hitherto unknown text was.
The question of the chemical doctrine contained in the Secreta is an interesting one, and we shall return to it, but meanwhile, let us observe that the Liber Luminis contains hints which seem to carry us further still, and throw some light upon the source from which the Secreta was itself derived. One of the authors quoted is a certain ‘Archelaus.’ Now there was a veritable chemist of this name who lived during the fifth century. This author wrote a treatise on his art in Greek verse. In later times his name seems to have become common property, as did so many others distinguished in alchemy, and to have been freely used by some who wrote long after his day. Thus the Riccardian manuscript itself contains no less than three books ascribed to this author: the Liber Archelai Philosophi de arte alchimiae,[129] called also in the margin Practica Galieni in Secretis secretorum;[130] the Summula, ‘quam ego Archilaus transtuli de libro secretorum’;[131] and finally the Mappa Archilei nobilis philosophi.[132]
The fact that these titles mention the Secreta is enough to show us that in following up the alchemy of the Pseudo-Archelaus, we are on the right track. As we proceed the traces become still more interesting and significant. The Summula offers the following curious passage: ‘Et hoc feci amore Dei et cuidam compatri meo, qui pauper sint [sic] et infortunatus, et postea fortunatus fortuna bona et amore Imperatoris Emanuelis et Frederici.’[133]
The name Emanuel is found in other alchemical writings. The De Perfecto Magisterio, for example, which has been reprinted by Zetzner, embodies another work, the Liber duodecim aquarum which is expressly said to be taken from the ‘Liber Emanuelis.’ Pursuing the matter further still, we come to the Liber Aristotelis which commences, ‘Cum de sublimiori atque precipuo.’ The author of this treatise, we find, claims not only the Liber duodecim aquarum (‘quae qualiter se habeant in libro quem XII. aquarum vocabulo descripsimus, prudens lector intelligere poterit’), but also, it would seem, the very one of which we are in search (‘in libro secretorum a nobis dictum est’). Everything inclines us to the belief that we here touch the source from which the main part of the Liber Luminis was drawn, and this conclusion is not a little strengthened when we observe that the treatise ‘Cum de sublimiori’ is called the Lumen Luminum in the Riccardian copy.[134]
The Secreta, however, was not the only source from which the Liber Luminis and the Liber Dedali were drawn, and the assertion of the preface that the former was composed of extracts from many different philosophers is fully borne out when we examine the substance of the books themselves. A strain of Greek influence is to be traced, for example, in the names of Archelaus, Dedalus, Plato, and Hermes, as well as in the use of ciatus as an equivalent for the word ‘cup,’ and this reminds us strongly of the Summula with its reference to the Emperor Manuel. It is not impossible that Scot may have borrowed much from the Byzantine chemists of the twelfth century. With this notion agrees the passage of the Liber Dedali where Saracens are spoken of as foreigners. On the other hand, much had evidently been taken from Arabic sources, as is plain from the names given to several of the vessels used in alchemy, such as the alembic and aludel. Indeed, Unay and Melchia, who are quoted in the Liber Luminis, must have been Moors, for the corresponding passage of the Liber Dedali describes them as from ‘Lamacha of the Saracens.’ Both these texts agree in showing such familiarity with the process of refining sulphur that one is led to suppose the Secreta, their common original, may have been composed in Sicily. The Liber Luminis says of one of the alums that it is ‘brought from Spain:’ an expression agreeing well with the notion of a Sicilian author, who would naturally speak of Spain as a foreign land.