The words “professed adversaries,” which have just now been used, are of course not intended to be applied to those mighty explorers of Nature’s laws and man’s powers, who, in their lofty career, may have made an incidental swoop at the pretensions of astrology. Directly engaged in more exact pursuits, they stopped not to dissect this their casual prey, which, after having been thus struck by eagles, was left to regale crows and daws, and these, in their convivial loquacity, accused their unfortunate victims of crimes incapable of being committed, and of offences which had never been imagined. Of the real faults of their victim these garrulous bipeds seem not to have been aware, or, if aware, they seem to have considered them as not sufficiently prominent. Nor was this want of candour or information absolutely confined to the mere vulgar herd of vituperative scribblers, for even the sparkling essay against astrology, written by Voltaire (in his irrepressible desire to convince the world that he was au fait in everything), proves only that the writer, though the most generally informed man of his time, had mistaken the really assailable points of the object of his attack.
The author of the present Translation has no intention now of either advocating or impugning the doctrines of the science of which his Translation discourses: his purpose is a different one. He has that sort of respect for “the dead, which are really dead,” which, although it does not incline him to “praise” them “more than the living, which are yet alive,” is still sufficient to incite him to endeavour to avert the imputation of idiot credulity, to which their faith in astrology seems now to subject them in the general opinion of the enlightened “living.” And, while he disclaims all idea of presuming to offer any argument on either side of the question, as to the validity of the science, he must still, at the same time, confess his admiration of the ingenuity and contrivance manifest in its construction, and avow his readiness to believe that all its harmonized complications might have easily held dominion over some of the strongest minds in that darker period when it flourished.
In executing here the desire of attempting to vindicate the ancient credence in astrology, an elaborate disquisition would surely be not only unnecessary, but misplaced: it seems sufficient to refer the reader to the work of which the following is a translation, and to these undisputed facts—that the science was formerly inculcated by the highest and most erudite authorities of the period—that it was insisted on by votaries in all parts of the world, attesting and producing instances of its truth;—and, moreover, that it was so finely and beautifully put together, as to cause the only deficiency of one small, though most important, link in its whole chain of argument, to be undetected by dull minds, and readily supplied by enthusiastic genius. For centuries after centuries all branches of learning were either made subservient to astrology, or carried on in close alliance with it; and many of the illustrious names which it recalls to our recollection are gratefully reverenced even by modern science. The genius of Roger Bacon, although he was the first of that school of natural philosophy which acknowledges none but experimented truths, was nevertheless bowed to the doctrines of judicial astrology; and his greater Namesake, who after an interval of several centuries succeeded to him in giving proper direction to the mental energy, was still an arguer in favour of celestial influences: it may be, therefore, fairly inferred, that the subtle spell which had strength to enthrall “stuff” so “stern,” could have been of no weak or vulgar order, but that it was sufficiently potent and refined to interest and amuse even the present age.[3]
In this little volume will be found the whole of the elements of astrology, and the entire ground-work of those stupendous tomes in folio and quarto on the same subject, which were produced in myriads during the 16th and 17th centuries, for the due mystification of the then world. The present volume is addressed equally to the general reader, as well as to the votary of pure astrology, if any such there be; to the one it offers amusement; for the other, it should contain the most glowing interest. Even to the speculative metaphysician it will furnish food for contemplation; for, in addition to its peculiar hypothesis of cause and effect, it develops many of those apparent incongruities of character so often united in the same individual; and this development, even although adapted to the doctrine of the stars, still merits attention; inasmuch as the phenomena of which it treats (in whatever way they may be produced or regulated) will ever remain in actual existence.
The only English translation of Ptolemy’s Tetrabiblos, hitherto published, appears to have been first set forth in 1701, under the name of “The Quadripartite.” That publication has been long removed from general sale; and its gross misinterpretation of the author, caused by the carelessness or ignorance of Whalley and his assistants, by whom it was produced, has rendered most of its pages unintelligible: its absence is, therefore, scarcely to be regretted. The second edition of the same translation, professing to be “revised, corrected, and improved,” and published by Browne and Sibley, in 1786, was not, in any one instance, purified from the blunders and obscurities which disgraced its predecessor: it seems, in fact, less excusable than the former edition, of which it was merely a reprint, without being at all corrected, not even in certain typographical errata which the former printer had been zealous enough to point out in his final page. Even this second publication, worthless as it intrinsically is, can rarely now be met with, and, like the former, only at a very heavy price.
The present Translation has been made from Proclus’s Greek Paraphrase of Ptolemy’s original text; the edition followed is that of the Elzevirs, dated in 1635.[4] But, in the course of translation, continual references have been also had to various editions of the original text, in order to ascertain the proper acceptation of doubtful passages. The editions thus inspected were that by Camerarius, printed at Nuremberg in 1535; that by Melancthon, printed at Basle in 1553; and that by Junctinus, printed, with his own enormous commentaries, at Lyons, in 1581. Independently of these references, the present translation has been collated with the Latin of Leo Allatius, and with two other Latin translations: one printed at Basle, together with a translation of the Almagest in 1541; the other by itself at Perugio, in 1646.[5] The Translator has devoted all this extreme care and attention to his labours, in the wish to render Ptolemy’s astro-judicial doctrine into English as purely and perfectly as possible; and, with the same view, he has likewise added, in an Appendix, certain extracts from such parts of the Almagest as were found to be referred to in his present work. Further illustration is also given by notes gathered from the “Primum Mobile” of Placidus,[6] and from a variety of other sources whence any elucidation of the text might be derived. Even Whalley’s “Annotations” (to use his own grandiloquent designation) have occasionally yielded information, not altogether unimportant, although generally incomplete.
It seems improper to close this Preface (notwithstanding the bulk it has already attained), without annexing the following short notice of the life and works of the great man from whom the Tetrabiblos has emanated.
Claudius Ptolemy was born at Pelusium, in Ægypt, and became an illustrious disciple of the school of Alexandria, in which city he flourished during the reign of Adrian and that of Antoninus Pius. The date of his birth has been commonly assigned to the 70th year of the Christian æra; but the accuracy of this date seems questionable; for he has himself noted in one part of his works, that Antoninus reigned twenty-three years. He must have, therefore, survived that prince; and, as it is not probable that he continued his scientific labours until after ninety years of age, which he must have done had he been born about the year 70, because Antoninus died in the year 161, it seems that his birth would be more properly ascribed to some later period. Moreover, it is asserted by the Arabians, that he died in the 78th year of his age; and a similar statement is also made by Luca Gauricus, in the dedication of his version of the Almagest[7] to Dominico Palavicini: Gauricus has, however, placed his death in the year 147, which does not accord with the fact of his having survived Antoninus.
Ptolemy has recorded that he observed, at Alexandria, an eclipse of the Moon, in the 9th year of Adrian; and that he made many observations upon the fixed stars in the 2nd year of Antoninus Pius: whence it may be concluded, that his observations upon the heavens were principally made during the period from a.d. 125 to a.d. 140, or thereabouts; and it also follows, of course, that the supposition, entertained by some authors, of his identity with the Ptolemy who was always in attendance upon Galba, as his personal astrologer, and who promised Otho that he should survive Nero and obtain the empire, is entirely without foundation. To Gauricus’s[8] version of the Almagest there is also another dedication, addressed to Pope Sixtus, and composed by George Trapezuntius, describing Ptolemy as “regiâ stirpe oriundum,” and explaining that he had, “with a truly regal mind,” applied himself to the sciences, because the ancient sceptre of the Ptolemies had previously passed into the hands of Cleopatra, and because the kingdom of Ægypt had been since reduced to the state of a Roman province. The authentic details of the circumstances of Ptolemy’s life are, however, extremely few. It is said that he was distinguished among the Greeks by the epithets “most wise,” and “most divine,” on account of his great learning; and, according to the Preface to Whalley’s translation of the Tetrabiblos, the Arabians report that “he was extremely abstemious, and rode much on horseback”; adding, that although he was “spruce in apparel,” yet his breath was not remarkable for an agreeable odour.
The errors of the Ptolemaic theory of the universe have now been long discarded; but there are many points in which modern sciences, and modern astronomy in particular, have reaped incalculable benefits from the labours and researches of its great founder. He has preserved and transmitted to us the observations and principal discoveries of remoter periods, and has enriched and augmented them with his own. He corrected Hipparchus’s catalogue of the fixed stars, and formed tables for the calculation and regulation of the motions of the Sun, Moon, and planets. He was, in fact, the first who collected the scattered and detached observations of Aristotle, Hipparchus, Posidonius, and others on the economy of the world, and digested them into a system, which he set forth in his Μεγαλη Σνταξις or Great Construction, divided into thirteen books, and called, after him, the Ptolemaic System. This and all his other astronomical works are founded upon the hypothesis, that the earth is at rest in the centre of the universe, and that the heavenly bodies, stars, and planets, all move round it in solid orbs, whose motions are all directed by one primum mobile, or first mover, of which he discourses at large in the “Great Construction.” In that work he also treats of the figure and divisions of the earth, of the right and oblique ascensions of the heavenly bodies, and of the motions of the Sun, Moon, and planets; and he gives tables for finding their situations, latitudes, longitudes, and motions: he treats also of eclipses, and the methods of computing them; and he discourses of the fixed stars, of which he furnishes a numerous catalogue, with their magnitudes, latitudes, and longitudes.[9]