Our premodern reader didn’t just add Latin glosses to his copy of Ptolemy’s Ὁ Καρπός, now and then he emended the Greek. For example, on the second aphorism the copiest wrote “τὴν κρεῖττον”. The reader seems to have been sufficiently bothered by this mistake that he wrote the correct article, “τὸ,” above the incorrect “τὴν.”
Here’s a transcription of second and third aphorisms (including sigma chaos):
In other manuscripts Ptolemy’s second aphorism two seems displays a bit of drift toward the end, where “τοῦ πράγματος διαφορά” sometimes becomes the grammatically problematic “ἀυτοῦ πράγματων διαφορά” (as in Biblioteca Angelica, gr. 029 below) and sometimes the grammatically ok “τῶν πραγμάτων διαφορά.” The wording in the third aphorism likewise varies a bit toward the end, where “ἰδίῳ γενεθλίῳ” becomes “ὀικείῳ γενεθλίῳ.” Two 14th-century manuscripts illustrate these variations. Biblioteca Angelica, gr. 029 shows the variation in both aphorisms; Biblioteca Vallicelliana, fonds principal F 086 illustrates the variation in just the third aphorism.
Variations of Aphorisms β’ and γ’ from 14th-cent. Mss.
This particular variation carries over into some fifteenth-century manuscripts, e.g., Vatican Barb.gr.127 or BnF gr. 2027, and even sixteenth-century copies, e.g., Harley ms 5597.
As promised in the previous post, Struggling with Ptolemy’s Ὁ Καρπός, here are initial translations of the second and third aphorisms (with the same caveat that I reserve the right to admit this translation is horrible and to change it).
Translations of Ptolemy’s Aphorisms β’ and γ’ from BnF gr. 2180
He who is suited to a particular activity will certainly have the star signifying such an influence in his own nativity.
Study of the variations and other scholarly contributions will have to wait. For the moment, I’m just having fun working through the copy of Ptolemy’s Ὁ Καρπός in BnF gr. 2180. I confess, I’m also enjoying the amazing botanical illustrations, such as this one:
If you’re interested in Byzantine herbals and botanical illustrations, this ms is loaded with amazing images of plants. Unfortunately, many of the illustrations were never added to the manuscript, just large blank spaces awaiting a skilled illustrator. ↩
It is perversely reassuring to see that other people have had to labor to understand Ptolemy’s aphorisms. Consequently, this 15th-century copy of Ptolemy’s Ὁ Καρπός (more widely known by its Latin title, Centiloquium) makes my day.
Copied sometime in the latter half of the fifteenth century by a certain George Mediates, this manuscript was later owned by Jean Hurault de Boistaillé, who amassed an impressive collection of Greek manuscripts, see, e.g., this list. Philippe Hurault de Cheverny inherited Boistaillé’s manuscripts. Shortly after his death in 1620 the collection was purchased for the Bibliothèque royale de France.
Some premodern reader worked through Ptolemy’s text adding Latin translations above most of the Greek words. He worked diligently through the first 50 or so aphorisms, adding such interlinear glosses throughout. Then he suddenly stopped.
Here is a transcription of the preface and the first aphorism (most of what you see in the image immediately above):
A number of things about this copy interest me, starting with the Greek itself. Perhaps the least significant: this scribe ranges freely across the three forms of sigma with no apparent rhyme or reason: the typical internal form, σ, occurs frequently at the end of words; the typical Byzantine form, ϲ, appears at the beginning and end of words; and the terminal form, ς, appears only occasionally at the end of a word. Further, the scribe either misspells a number of words or, as seems possible in some cases, spells them to capture pronunciation. Then there are the places where the wording itself varies from other copies.
For those who care, here’s a comparison of the preface and first aphorism in BNF gr. 2180 and those in the now quite old critical edition (I added line breaks to the critical edition text to make it easier to compare to BNF gr. 2180).
A Comparison of BNF gr. 2180 and the critical edition
I have nothing profound to add to this post, no insight to give. The goal of this post was merely to draw attention to this Byzantine copy of Ptolemy’s Ὁ Καρπός because, well, I find it interesting. Now back to work on this text.
Modern scholarship has shown to its own satisfaction that the collection of aphorisms attributed to Ptolemy, well known in Latin as the Centiloquium, were not, in fact, composed by Ptolemy. For the moment, I don’t care if the text was or was not written by Ptolemy. The copiest and the pre-modern owners of this manuscript thought Ptolemy had composed the aphorisms—for my purposes now, that’s more important than insisting on a ps- prefix for Ptolemy. ↩
See also D. Jackson, “The Greek Manuscripts of Jean Hurault de Boistaillé,” Studi italiani di filologia classica 2(2004): 209–252. ↩
Translations from the Latin versions of the Centiloquium are easy to find. I know of only one translation from the Greek. A second, it seems to me, could be useful. So I will slowly add translations from the Greek. Here, then, is a really rough translation of the first aphorism (I reserve the right to admit I totally messed up this translation and to improve it when I realize that):
For it is not possible that the wise man from himself or from knowledge reports the particular forms of events, just as perception cannot grasp the particular form of the thing perceived but a certain general form. And so it is necessary to infer the course of events, for only those inspired by a god can predict the particulars. ↩
When Chemistry World reported on a Newton manuscript that CHF had recently purchased, it started a small epidemic of posts on Newton and alchemy. Within a few days hundreds of sites—ranging from sites like the Daily Kos and CNN to the Ancient Code and Facebook posts—had summarized, linked to, reposted, or transformed the original report. Following the Chemistry World article as it spread across the internet reveals the process replication and transformation as the information drifted further from the original in time and space.
Chemistry World first reported on the manuscript in “Newton’s recipe for alchemists’ mercury rediscovered.” The manuscript contained Newton’s hand-written copy of George Starkey’s recipe for “philosophic mercury” as well as some of his own notes for distilling a volatile spirit. Since the 1930s this manuscript had been in private hands but will now be available to scholars thanks to the Chemical Heritage Foundation, which had recently purchased it and will make scans and a transcription available through The Chemistry of Isaac Newton project. The Chemistry World article is rather dry, beginning with the title that certainly doesn’t excite interest—“alchemist’s mercury”? yawn. Importantly, the article doesn’t make grandiose claims, but sticks to a rather conservative: “Until now, the contents of this particular manuscript had not been made public.” Other than the title, there’s no language of rediscovery. No language of surprise at Newton’s interest in alchemy. CHF immediately excerpted and linked to the Chemistry World post.
A number of posts derived directly from the Chemistry World report. Summarizing the Chemistry World post, Gizmodo piled on with typical dismissal of Newton’s alchemy, “Rediscovered Manuscript Shows How Isaac Newton Dabbled In Alchemy.” Dabbled? As Jim Voelkel pointed out in the Chemistry World post, “the estimate of Newton’s alchemical output is something like a million words in his own hand. This [manuscript] is just another little page in a corpus of hundreds and hundreds of documents.” Gizmodo’s “dabbled” as well as the “he [Newton] resorted to the mysterious world of alchemy” reflects not Newton’s interests and efforts but rather Gizmodo’s desire to save Newton from the stain of alchemy:
Sir Isaac Newton may have been one of the greatest scientists who ever lived, but his contributions to chemistry leave much to be desired. … Newton and his fellow alchemists were simply doing the best they could given the dearth of scientific knowledge.
Gizmodo doesn’t want us to blame Newton for believing in alchemy. He was a great scientist, one of the greatest, who just happened to live in an ignorant, benighted time.
A week after the initial report, the Daily Mail posted a derivative of the Chemistry World article, “Isaac Newton’s recipe for ‘Philosopher’s Stone’ rediscovered.” They reworked Chemistry World’s original so that it would appeal to their readers, as the subtitle indicates: “17th-century alchemy manuscript reveals ingredients it was thought could make people IMMORTAL.” Because the their readers care less about the finer alchemical details and more about immortality and transmuting lead into gold, and because Harry Potter had popularized the Philosopher’s stone, the Daily Mail foregrounded these themes.
Filed under “WTF?” are the posts that appeared on various cooking sites the same day as the Daily Mail’s article, e.g., the Good Cooking Store’s “Isaac Newton’s recipe for ‘Philosopher’s Stone’ rediscovered” and Cooknology’s “Isaac Newton’s recipe for ‘Philosopher’s Stone’ rediscovered.” These posts seem to have been generated by running the Daily Mail’s article through a simple algorithm that had a tenuous grasp on English. The algorithm replaced definite articles with indefinite articles and identified some bizarre synonyms. At times the synonyms read like a middle school student who, having discovered a thesaurus, transforms “human” into “tellurian.” At times the synonyms distort the text in strange ways as when “volatile spirit” becomes “flighty suggestion” or “minute example” becomes “notation instance.” I assume these sites have some automated process that scrapes certain sites for cooking related posts, transforms them, and reposts them in an effort to generate traffic and advertising income.
though best best known for his study of gravity and his laws of motion, Newton also apparently wrote more than a million words of alchemical notes throughout his lifetime.
Despite contacting CHF and quoting Jim Voelkel a number of times, Live Science’s version offers much of the same content in slightly different form. The only new information indicated that the manuscript had come up for auction two other times, in 2004 and in 2009.
Once again, filed under “WTF?”, Live Science’s version also spawned an algorithm-generated version on cooking sites. Sebastian’s Fine Food, for example, copied CBS’s version of Live Science’s article: “Manuscript reveals Isaac Newton’s recipe for magical ‘philosopher’s stone’.” Again, the algorithm substituted synonyms and replaced definite with indefinite articles. But this time the algorithm doesn’t do as good a job of it. Some of the replacements make no sense. For example, “up” is replaced by “adult” as in “ended up working” that becomes “finished adult operative.” In another instance, “great interest” becomes “good seductiveness.” Is this some perverse way of driving internet traffic?
National Geographic and the Rest
Two weeks later through reputable outlets such as National Geographic, FOX News, and the Washington Post the story had permeated internet news sites. These three sites give the impression that they are brining something new to the story, but do little more than recycle much of the same content.
National Geographic’s “Isaac Newton’s Lost Alchemy Recipe Rediscovered” is entertainingly written—it opens with an enticing question: “Combine one part Fiery Dragon, some Doves of Diana, and at least seven Eagles of mercury, and what do you get? A key precursor to the Philosopher’s stone….” The speculation that Newton turned to alchemy to “possibly strike it rich” seems dismissive. We learn a bit more about George Starkey, but the focus remains vague surprise that “Newton—a father of modern physics and co-discoverer of calculus—was greatly influenced by alchemy and his collaborations with alchemists.” In addition to citing Jim Voelkel, the article quotes Bill Newman, who had been conspicuous for his absence in the other articles. In this version Newton’s alchemy is enlisted in the service of his science, especially optics.
The worry that such a scientific giant as Newton was engaged in junk science animates the Washington Post’s “Isaac Newton spent a lot of time on junk ‘science,’ and this manuscript proves it.” Dear Washington Post: alchemy was not “junk ‘science’” and this manuscript proves nothing. The Daily Beast borrows from the National Geographic’s and the Washington Post’s articles to worry about how alchemy (again dismissed as “junk science”) informed Newton’s presumably real science:
Newton, it was announced this year, had a secret obsession with the lowest of the pseudosciences: alchemy, or the pursuit of a “magic” substance that will change one element into another.
To think that one of humanity’s best minds would have written over a million words on something out of bad fantasy adventure writing is concerning—but maybe it shouldn’t be, because his research eventually led to something earth-shattering in another field.
For the record, dear Daily Beast, it wasn’t announced this year that Newton was interested in alchemy. It has been known for a long time. The article you cite points out that already in the 19th century Newton’s biographer was aware of his interest in alchemy. Scholars have written numerous books and articles on Newton’s alchemy. Bill Newman, whom you cite, has spent much of the last 20+ years working on Newton’s alchemy (even attempting to recreate a number of his laboratory practices and experiments). Maybe you just learned of it, but that’s just your own ignorance. And when did alchemy become the “lowest of the pseudosciences”? Both the Daily Beast’s and the Washington Post’s articles are full of problems and add little to the broader story.
Three weeks after the Chemistry World post, purportedly reputable news and other specialized sites are spooning out bits from previous accounts as if they were some Newton-themed Smörgåsbord. These later posts, e.g., History.com, CSMonitor, Phys.org, CNN, Atlas Obscura, Smithsonian Magazing, contribute nothing to the conversation nor do they add anything to the information provided in their sources. These later posts seem to accomplish little beyond duplicating and remixing information widely available. By this point news has become merely repetition—the echo chamber of the internet is deafening.
Postscript: I want to point out that this entire story was scarcely news worthy when it all began on March 17, 2016. Back in 2010 Discover Magazine was all worked up over Newton’s interest in alchemy and interviewed both Bill Newman and Larry Principe in “Isaac Newton, World’s Most Famous Alchemist.” But even then manuscripts demonstrating Newton’s interest in alchemy weren’t news. Five years earlier still, in 2005, NOVA had interviewed Bill Newman about Newton as alchemist and had created an interactive page that let you try to decode one of Newton’s alchemical manuscripts. More remarkable than Newton’s interest in alchemy is the internet’s failure to remember that long ago we discovered Newton’s interest in alchemy, as a quick internet search will reveal.
Search results for this report or some version of it edged up towards a thousand. Sure, on the Kardashian-Bieber scale that number is infinitesimal, but on the nerdy-academic scale, it is a rather impressive. ↩
Another way to describe this process is by reference to the old party game “telephone.” But the language of infection and epidemic seems so much more sophisticated and, well, science-y. ↩
For some reason, a couple weeks after CHF’s initial post, they switched the source of their excerpt from Chemistry World to National Geographic. They switched the same day National Geographic posted about the Newton manuscript. Perhaps CHF preferred the more dramatic prose in National Geographic’s version. Perhaps CHF assumed it looked better to appear in a major publication like National Geographic rather than the obscure, discipline specific Chemistry World. ↩
I don’t really know what these people are going on about. There are NO scientists mentioned in the article. In this story, scientists didn’t discover anything. Historians, maybe. ↩
These posts seem to have been rather ephemeral, even by internet standards. Within a few days these posts had disappeared. ↩
Clearly, recipe in the title of the Daily Mail’s post was sufficient to flag it as a cooking related post. These posts have since disappeared. Perhaps the sites have human editors that go through and remove egregious mistakes such as this one. ↩
I realize that in 2005 many of the authors of the most recent round of Newton-was-an-alchemist-?!? posts were probably still toddlers, but they should know how to perform a basic internet search. What good is their superior internet nuance and sophistication if they refuse to use it? ↩
A nice drawing of the rete from Nicephorus Gregoras’s “περὶ κατασκευῆς καὶ γενέσεως ἀστρολάβου” (“On the Mathematical Origin and Construction of the Astrolabe”). This rete, like other diagrams in copies of Gregoras’s text, lacks stars and finer details. In the few copies I’ve seen that include the stars, the rete closely resembles the one surviving Byzantine astrolabe, especially the number and style of the star pointers.
Interesting, at least to me, is the fact that the illustrations in different copies of Gregoras’s text often label the diagrams in different ways. In this copy diagrams are labeled counterclockwise starting at the 9 o’clock position, e.g., the diagrams on fol. 284v of BN suppl. graec. 0652. In other copies, diagrams are labeled counterclockwise or clockwise from various starting points (the 9 o’clock position is the most common starting point). In one manuscript, diagrams on consecutive folia are labeled in opposite ways. The absence of illustration in many copies of Gregoras’s work makes it challenging to follow the text. In most such cases, the copyist left no room for illustrations, suggesting he was working from an unillustrated copy. In some manuscripts, the copyist left large spaces for the illustrations.
In 1501 Joseph Grünpeck had to leave his service at the imperial court because he had recently contracted the French Disease. In his absence, however, he continued to maintain connections with bureaucrats at Maximilian’s court. In 1502 he dedicated his “Prodigiorum potentorem” to Blasius Hölzl, Maximilian’s finance secretary. In this manuscript, Grünpeck recounted the many terrestrial and celestial portents that were being reported almost daily across the empire. Some of these monsters had become commonplace, such as the fiery stones raining down from the sky or the sets of conjoined twins. In a dozen or so chapters Grünpeck enumerated the various monsters and explained how they were most often signs from God showing His displeasure at the German people’s and especially the German princes’ disregard for traditional hierarchies and deference to authority, i.e., to Maximilian.
More on Grünpeck’s relationship with the French Disease and his two pamphlets on it here. ↩
Since the mid–1490s Sebastian Brant had deployed the conjoined twins a number of times in broadsheets and pamphlets. ↩