Note: Robert Collis, is a Honorary Research Fellow at
the University of Sheffield.
THE
SLAVONIC AND EAST EUROPEAN REVIEW
(Volume 88, Number 4 – October
2010)
In the early 1520s
the theologian Maxim the Greek (c . 1470–1555) wrote a series of polemical
letters in Moscow in which he lambasted what he saw as the pernicious
astrological and religious influence of Nicolaus
Bülow (fl. 1490–1533), the German chief
physician to Vasilii III (1479– 1533). According to Maxim, the German was
a false prophet, a ‘fraudulent sophist’ and a wolf in sheep’s clothing, who
was ‘acting on the evil contrivances of Balaam.1.
The vitriolic tone
adopted by Maxim reflects the degree of
danger he felt regarding Bülow, the chief promoter in Muscovy of astrological
predictions that foresaw a disastrous flood in 1524.In this
article I will study the antiastrological tracts written by Maxim against the
background of the great conjunction of 1524 — a celestial phenomenon that
engendered an acute sense of eschatological anxiety across much of Europe in
the first quarter of the sixteenth
century.2.
I will devote
muchneeded attention to how the great Maxim the Greek & the great
conjunction conjunction of 1524 was viewed in Muscovite Russia in the years
immediately preceding the celestial event. Moreover, the polemical debate
entered into by Maxim the Greek, against Bülow and his beliefs, arguably ranks
as the most wideranging and articulate discussion of the role of astrology in
Muscovite Russia.3.
As I will argue,
however, the scope of the debate encompassed far more than the likelihood of a
deluge in 1524, as it touches on fundamental issues, such as the relationship
between astrology and Orthodoxy and the place of the controversial art in
determining the policies and actions of the grand prince. What is more, the
astrological debate between Maxim and Bülow provides an excellent example of
the extremely complex cultural and religious dynamic at play in early
sixteenth-century Muscovy. In the person of Maxim alone, one is able to study
the transmission of religious and philosophical ideas from Renaissance Italy
and from the centre of Greek Orthodoxy at Mount Athos, accompanied with
an awareness of a distinct Muscovite history and heritage.4.
Accordingly, I will
demonstrate how the astrological predictions of a disastrous flood in 1524 — championed in Muscovy by Bülow —
provoked a passionate rebuttal by Maxim the Greek. It will be argued
that this response drew heavily on the arguments of Giovanni Pico della
Mirandola (1463–94). However, within this Italian framework Maxim used distinct
colours befitting his Orthodox
surroundings and heritage — namely by drawing on Eastern Church Fathers
and Byzantine chroniclers. To them the earth at this time
was to suffer ‘indubitable mutation, variation and alteration such as we
have scarce perceived for many centuries’, as a result of a great conjunction
of the planets in Pisces. 5.
In the intervening
quarter of a century this doomladen prediction gave rise to much trepidation
across Europe, with at least 160 works addressing the issue. 6.
Whilst Stöffler and Pflaum made no specific mention of a flood, many
subsequent commentators wrote of a cataclysmic deluge. These dire predictions
drew on the influential astrological theories
of the ninthcentury Islamic scholar Abu Ma’shar al-Balkhi (787–886), who in the Great Conjunctions outlined
how pivotal historical and religious events occurred at moments when planetary
conjunctions took place. Indeed, many early sixteenthcentury European
astrologers seized on Abu Ma’shar’s calculations that the original deluge was
on 17 February 3102 BC, when a great conjunction of the planets in the last phase
of Pisces had taken place.7.
Both Catholics and
Lutherans were swept up in the tide of panic that engulfed Europe in the period
immediately preceding 1524. On the one hand, some Catholics viewed the
conjunction as a sign of Luther being a false prophet and consequently a herald
of a time of great tribulation. Many Lutherans, on the other hand, saw the
conjunction as a sign that their leader had been chosen to save them from the
waters of the second Flood.8.
Thus, amidst a
period of profound religious schism between Lutheranism and Catholicism, and
extensive military conflict between Charles
V of the Habsburg Empire and Francis I of France, many people across Europe in
the early sixteenth century were swayed by the bleak predictions of an imminent
flood. The allconsuming nature
of what Pierre Bayle (1647–1706) called the ‘great terror all over Europe’ was
such that the French Huguenot thinker commented that ‘Princes, and even learned
men, were afraid of that calamity as well as the people’.9.
In Vienna, for
example, the court astrologer Georg Tannstetter noted on 20 March 1523 that: This
rumour [about the impending flood] has already
taken root every-where [...] it has provoked the wise and the learned to heated
debate, and in some it has caused such consternation that they can no longer
manage, their affairs properly: they sell their lands, fields and other properties [...] because they believe
it will be easier to convey money up to the mountains.10.
Moreover, in Italy,
as Ottavia Niccoli has demonstrated, there was a case of collective panic
regarding the imminent onset of a deluge: so much so that the carnival season
in Rome in February 1524 was satu-rated with flood themes. The carnival included a float representing
Noah’s Ark, for example, whilst Archbishop Marco Corner created another float on ‘which was a boat being prepared to flee the deluge, and inside there was a very good
musical group with lutes and viols’.11.
In Florence, the
extent of the anxiety concerning the predictions of a flood is aptly demonstrated by Niccolò Machiavelli, who
mocked these general fears through lewd, carnivalesque humour: Because all the
astrologers and diviners have bewildered you, according to what many have
understood, [by saying] that horrible and strange weather threatens all lands
[with] plague, flood, and war, lightning,
storms, earthquakes [and] destruction, as if it were already the end of the
world, and they insist that the stars will overflow with so much water that the whole world will be covered. Thus,
graceful and beautiful women, if ever you were pleased to make use of
something on top of you [...] come away with us to the top of our high rocks.12.
This colourful and
bawdy firsthand account of the
atmosphere at carnival time in Florence in 1524 wonderfully captures the mood
of the city’s inhabitants. According to Niccoli the prediction of a flood in piscibus ‘had a vast and farreaching
resonance’, as testified by its preeminence
during the carnival season in Italy in 1524. However, this ‘far-reaching
resonance’, unbeknown to Western scholars, also extended eastwards into the
Orthodox lands of Muscovite Russia.13.
2.
The Russian Context.
The explosive mix
of eschatology and astrology, central to the controversy surrounding the
great conjunction of 1524, had already created a religious furore in Russia in
the last years of the fifteenth century.
The official doctrine of the Orthodox
Church in Russia stipulated that the end of the world would occur in 1492, that
is in 7000 anno mundi. Belief in this
eventuality was such that until 1490 the Church had not sought to calculate the paschal canon, which
determined the date of Easter, for after 1492.14.
The religious
ferment around this time in Russia was greatly exac-erbated by the rise of the
so-called Judaizer (Zhidovstvuiushchie) movement, which emerged in Novgorod in
the early 1470s. According to the rapid anti-Judaizer, Joseph Sanin of
Volokolamsk (c . 1440–1515), the movement was brought to Russia in 1470 by
a Kievan Jew named Skharia, who was ‘an instrument of the devil’ and ‘learned
in all evil inventions: magic and black books, stargazing and astrology’.15.
Moreover, Sanin
goes on to state that the Judaizer movement soon gained support in prominent
Novgorod circles, including a priest named Aleksei and the high-ranking
diplomat Fedor Kuritsyn: In this time Aleksei the priest and Fedor Kuritsyn had
influence on the grand prince like
no other. They engaged in astronomy, astrology, magic and [the study of] black
books and other false teachings. Many joined them because of this and became stuck
in the depths of apostasy.16.
The perceived
threat of the Judaizers was felt most acutely in relation to their use of
astronomical calculations to argue against the belief in the imminent end of
the world. The Judaizers’ main weapon in this regard was the utilization of the
astronomical set of tables called Six Wings (Shestokryl ),
compiled in 1365 by Immanuel Ben Jacob Bonfils. In order to
counter the Judaizers’ arguments Archbishop Gennadii of Novgorod chose to
enlist a skilled astronomer and mathematician from Catholic Germany by the name
of Nicolaus Bülow. For well over a decade Bülow worked for Archbishop Gennadii
in Novgorod and aided the cleric in his concerted efforts to eradicate the
Judaizer movement. It is known, for example, that Bülow helped to translate
two fourteenth-century anti-Jewish tracts — Nicholas de Lyra’s Quaestiones
disputate contra Hebraeos and the Rationes breues magni rabi Samuelis iudei
nati . These works attacked Jewish beliefs and their calendar.17.
Some time after
1504 Bülow left Novgorod and spent several years working at the Papal court in
Rome during the reign of Julius II (1503–13), who is known to have been
favourable towards astrology.18.
By 1508 Bülow was
residing in Moscow, where he became chief physician to Vasilii III. According
to the Habsburg ambassador Francesco da Collo, writing in 1518, Bülow was ‘a
professor of medicine and of astrology and wise in all sciences’.19. Thus, in
bringing Bülow to Russia, Gennadii had unwittingly introduced a stargazing
viper into his Orthodox nest.20.
It is arguable that
if Bülow would have limited his use of astrology to the medical sphere he would
have largely avoided the ire of the Orthodox Church. However, the German
increasingly became embroiled in highly contentious religious questions. At
some point before 1515, for example, he wrote a letter in defence of the union
of the Greek and Latin Churches to Vassian Sanin, the Archbishop of Rostov.21.
In either 1520 or
1521 Bülow raised the stakes considerably by incorporating an eschatological
element into his astrological predictions. He did this by producing a Russian
translation of Stöffler and Pflaum’s Almanach nova .
In doing so he sought to acquaint the Muscovite court and the church
authorities with the furore surrounding the predictions of a deluge associated
with the great conjunction of 1524. Indeed, Maxim the Greek refers to the fact
that the publication was on sale at markets in Moscow, Pskov and, possibly,
Rostov.22.
As an ardent
Catholic and a staunch believer in astrology Bülow would have most likely
viewed Luther as a false prophet, whose appearance, as Denis Crouzet notes, was
linked to the grand conjunction and onset of the longawaited Tribulation.23.
During this period
of intense upheaval Bülow predicted that there would soon be ‘a new
transformation, a new law and a new monarchy and both the clergy and the people
will live in purity’.24.
In other words, he
was prophesying that the Holy Roman Emperor would be victorious over the
Ottoman Turks, thereby facilitating an era of Christian unity and brotherhood.
This achievement — crucially brought about by Catholic leadership — would then
herald Christ’s Second Coming.Thus Bülow’s translation of Stöffler and Pflaum’s Almanach nova
was an act of religious (and political) propaganda, designed to convince his Muscovite
audience about the inevitable and impending triumph of the Catholic Church.
Unsurprisingly, this potent binding of astrology with Catholic eschatological
prediction elicited a distinct sense of acute unease from many within the
Orthodox Church, from whom the most eloquent critique was supplied by Maxim the
Greek.
3.
Maxim the Greek’s Response to Bülow.
If Bülow’s mix of
astrological science and eschatology had fallen on unreceptive ears in Moscow,
his grand predictions would have either simply been ignored by church officials or, more likely, he would have been punished as
a heretic. However, the German’s arguments were favourably received by both
prominent courtiers and sections within the Orthodox Church itself. Why did
Bülow’s dramatic prognostications attract support among Muscovite courtiers and
clergymen? It is possible that some were swayed by a sense of anticipation at
the impending arrival of a crucial period in the biblical drama. After all, an
infectious spirit of expectancy, mixed with profound anxiety, was sweeping
across Europe at the time. Moreover, those of an inquisitive frame of mind
might well have been drawn to the pseudo-scientific basis of Bülow’s astrological predictions. It is also possible that
some figures in Muscovy were
attracted to the fatalistic dimension of astrology, whereby human free will is
sacrificed to the whims of the stars.
Whatever the reasons for its appeal in Muscovy, the great majority of church officials would have viewed Bülow’s prediction as an
alarming development that attacked the basic tenets of accepted Orthodox faith.
This called for a swift and decisive response from talented polemicists from
within their own ranks. One such response was supplied by Filofei, a monk from
the Pskov-Eleazarov Monastery. In either 1523 or 1524 he wrote to Mikhail
Grigor´evich Munekhin (d. 1528), chastizing the diplomat and Pskov official for falling under the sway of Bülow’s charms.
Filofei writes that astrological beliefs are simply fables (basni )
and blasphemy (koshchunstvo ). More specifically, he lambasts Munekhin for giving credence to Bülow’s predictions
about the great conjunction of 1524. According to Filofei, the stars
cannot foretell the onset of the second Flood, when all towns, kingdoms and
countries will cease to exist. Drawing on Acts 3:21, Filofei argues that only
God, and not the stars, have the power to bring about the restitution of all
things.25.
Filofei concentrated
his attack on Bülow by adopting a historical and eschatological approach in
order to explain decisive moments in the history of countries and
monarchies. In this regard, it is highly significant that Filofei’s renowned doctrine of Russia as the Third Rome was first articulated in his epistle to Munekhin.
Consequently, Bülow’s astrological prediction can be seen as one of the
principal catalysts for spurring Filofei to develop his religious thesis. Based
on biblical exegesis and a historical/eschatological approach to pivotal
ecclesiastical events, Filofei argued that the first Rome had fallen with the coronation of Charlemagne in 800.
Furthermore, the second Rome, that is Constantinople, had fallen as a result of
the union of the Greek Orthodox Church with the Roman Catholic Church, agreed
at the Council of Florence in 1439.26.
Subsequently, in
Filofei’s mind Russia became the Third Rome, as its church had retained its
pure spirit. What is more, Filofei’s telling assertion that there would not be
another Rome was significantly based on an
exegetical analysis of the Book of Revelation. In particular, he interpreted
chapter 12:6 of Revelation, which states ‘and the woman fled into the wilderness, where she hath a place
prepared of God’ and chapter 12:10, in which it is prophesied that ‘now is come
salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God’.27.
The refutation
articulated by Filofei has resonated down the ages, but was not as extensive
or, I would argue, as learned as that offered by Maxim the Greek between
1518–24. The Greek theologian was a relative newcomer to Muscovy, having only
arrived in Moscow in March 1518. He had been invited by Vasilii III initially
to translate Greek patristic commentaries on the Psalter. Prior to his arrival
in Moscow Maxim had spent twelve or thirteen years as a monk in the Monastery
of Vatopedi on Mount Athos. However, before his time at the centre of Eastern
Orthodox monasticism, Maxim had spent around twelve years in Renaissance Italy.
Between 1492 and 1496 Maxim (or Michael Trivolis as he was then known) lived
and studied in Florence, where he was influenced by the Greek
philologist John Lascaris and the renowned philosopher Marsilio Ficino. This
was followed by two years in Venice, where he had close contact with
Aldus Manutius, the famed printer and publisher of Greek classics. Significantly, in 1498 Maxim moved to Mirandola, where he was
employed by Gianfrancesco Pico della Mirandola, the nephew (and editor) of
Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, who shared his uncle’s fierce anti-astrological beliefs. Maxim’s last two years
in Italy were spent at the San Marco Monastery in Florence, where Savanorola
had been prior.28.
This rich
philosophical and theological background proved invaluable for Maxim in 1521,
when he sought to articulate his refutations of Bülow’s extraordinary
predictions. In practice Maxim adopted a three-pronged approach in order to
counter Bülow’s claims and to weaken their appeal to the Muscovite court and
clergy. First, he wrote a series of polemics specifically tackling the religious and astrological
arguments propounded by Bülow. Indeed, three extant letters are directly
addressed to Bülow: ‘Against Nikolai the Latin — a sermon about the emanation
of the Holy Spirit’; ‘An epistle to the polymath Nikolai the German’, and
‘Against Nikolai the German, fraud and astrologer’.29.
As one would
expect, the tone of these epistles and sermons is severe. Bülow is branded a
false prophe t who speaks ‘from his belly (from the wisdom of the flesh), and not according to the evangelical statutes
and theology’. Moreover, through ‘superstitious contrivances’ he is able to
‘charm the hearts of simple-minded people’.30.
In addition to
these direct attacks Maxim also wrote to courtiers who harboured sympathetic
attitudes towards Bülow’s astrological and religious teachings. In one such
letter for example, entitled ‘An instructive epistle to a certain prince about
the falsehood of astrology and comfort [for those] living in sorrow’, Maxim
warns the courtier about the ills stemming from harmful foreign influences: Many different illnesses occur when our body
is decaying: firstly, due to the entry and
distribution of several unpleasant and irregular elements into our body, and
secondly, by divine observance difficult circumstances
occur in our souls in order to lead to knowledge and to correct our sins.31.
In other words,
Maxim is decrying the harmful effects of Bülow’s alien doctrines, which are
spreading disease throughout the body of Orthodox Russia. According to Maxim,
the remedy for such ills is not to be found from the medicines dispensed by
foreign physicians, but by adherence to the Holy Scriptures. The tone taken by
Maxim in this letter is akin to a teacher disappointed at the erroneous
approach adopted by his students. He is stern, but not abusive, and the letter
is imbued with a sense of hope that the offenders will rectify their
ways.Evidently Maxim was particularly concerned about what he saw as Bülow’s
pernicious influence on the court diplomat
Fedor Ivanovich Karpov (d. 1545), as he entered into direct correspondence with
this senior official.32.
The general tone of
Maxim’s correspondence with Karpov is respectful and conciliatory. In a lengthy
epistle directed against Karpov’s espousal of astrology, for example, Maxim
sought to demonstrate the latter’s erroneous views by gentle persuasion. The
cleric emphasizes that he is seeking to cure Karpov of his illfounded stance
‘for the sake of love’. Furthermore, he flatters the diplomat
by calling him ‘most wise’ (premudryi).33.
Lastly, Maxim also
wrote an epistle to ‘a certain monk [holding] the post of Father Superior in regard
to the foreign deception [nemetskaia prelest´ ] by the name of
Fortune and about her wheel’.34.
In the letter he
sought to respectfully reprimand his fellow Orthodox cleric for dallying with
Bülow’s teachings: ‘I being bound to your reverence with such love, would
consider it wrong, beloved brother, if I were to remain silent, seeing that you
follow the Greek, Chaldean and Latin teachings, devised by demons.’35.
The epistle then
continues with Maxim expressing surprise that ‘such a person, more experienced
than others in knowledge of the divinely inspired scriptures’ is so quickly
‘attracted by such impious teachings [as propounded by] the fraud Nikolai the
German’.36.
The manner in which
Maxim directed his attack towards the intellectual position espoused by Bülow,
alongside epistles to both religious and civil figures, corresponds to Pico della Mirandola’s assertion that astrology
negatively impacts on three areas of human life: the intellectual, the
religious and the civil.37.
Moreover, Maxim’s
exposition of his arguments against astrology is extremely redolent of the
methodology used by Pico in his Disputationes adversus astrologiam, which was
published posthumously in 1495 by Gianfrancesco Pico della Mirandola.38.
Having spent four
years employed by Gianfrancesco in Mirandola, Maxim would have been well schooled
in the Piconian criticism of astrology. One should bear in mind that
Gianfrancesco was not simply his uncle’s editor but had also ‘fully developed
the teaching of the Disputationes.39.
According to Pico,
astrology was wholly incompatible with Christi-anity as a religion based on
revelation and on man’s free will. Indeed, Pico argued that astrology was a
dangerous doctrine that offered man a fundamentally different philosophy
towards life and the world, which actively distracted and led man away from God:
[Astrology] corrupts all philosophy, adulterates medicine, weakens religion,
generates or reinforces superstition, fosters idolatry, destroys prudence,
pollutes morals, disgraces the heavens, makes men miserable, anxious, restless,
slaves instead of free and quite unfortunate in doing almost everything.40.
Thus, significantly, Pico perceived astrology as a general
conception of reality and of history that had the power to undermine the
foundations of Christian society on all levels.In the opening book of Disputationes Pico
methodically draws on religious authority in order to counter what he regarded
as the perfidious influence of astrology. He lays significant stress on the oracles of the prophets found in
the Bible, alongside a powerful elucidation of anti-astrological thinking
evident in patristic literature, particularly leaning on the writings of
Augustine, Eusebius, Tertullian and Origen. What is more, he cites canon law as
a powerful authority against astrology.41.
Crucially, he also
cites the opposition to astrology evident in the thinking of Plato and
Aristotle, who embody a form of philosophy based on reason.42.
Alongside
authority, a notable and original feature of the Disputationes is Pico’s
in-depth analysis of the history of astrology. This begins with a discussion of
the beliefs of the ancient Chaldeans and Egyptians, who ‘naturally ascribed
everything to the stars’ as they ‘continuously devoted themselves to measuring
the movement of the heavens and observing the courses of the stars’.43.
Lastly, Pico sought
to drive a wedge between what he saw as the worthy scientific pursuit of astronomy and the thoroughly
disreputable beliefs associated with astrology: When I say astrology, I do not
mean that art which measures the size and motions of the stars by mathematical
calculations, a sure and noble art which is very worthy in its merits [...] but
that art which predicts future occurrences from the stars.44.
The
anti-astrological writings of Maxim are strikingly similar to those propounded
by Pico in their fundamental espousal of human free will and their unerring
faith in divine providence. In a lengthy epistle to Fedor Karpov, for example,
he decries ‘the false science regarding the stars [...] which overthrows all
divine laws’, in which virtues and vices are dependent upon the arbitrary and
despotic changes in celestial movements.45.
One must conclude
from this position, Maxim argues, that ‘the most benevolent God is the
initiator and creator of evil. You see the stars in essence are his creation.46.
This argument is
elaborated upon in another tract, entitled About the fact that Divine
Providence and not the stars or the wheel of fortune govern the fate of humans.47.
Herein Maxim reflects that ‘our minds have the power and the strength
to follow or oppose whoever we want’. Thus, Maxim reasons that goodness in
humans is not dictated by the stars, but by three factors: 1) holy powers which
always lead us to goodness; 2) a natural propensity in humans towards goodness;
and 3) the undertaking of good actions. Evil, on the other hand, exists due to
1) human passion; 2) the work of demons; and 3) evil actions.48.
One also hears a
distinct echo of Pico’s anti-astrological stance when Maxim chastises a fellow
Orthodox monk for following a doctrine that is ‘alien to divine providence,
the infallible and Goddevoted reason of the prophecies, and the God-inspired
Scriptures’.49.
In support of his
repudiation of astrology Maxim also closely follows the Piconian model. In
other words he constructs his argument by drawing extensively on religious
authority and historical examples and discourse, as well as highlighting what
he regards as the positive merits of the reasonbased philosophy of Plato and Aristotle.
An emphasis is also placed on the intrinsic difference between the pursuit of
worthy scientific endeavours, such as
astronomy, and the dangerous folly of being swayed by astrology. However, as
mentioned, Maxim did not simply transplant Pico’s ideas wholesale into Moscow;
rather he astutely adapted the Italian’s model to fit into the religious and cultural context of his
adopted homeland. In brief, this entailed draw-ing on the heritage of Eastern
and Western Church Fathers, Byzantine canonical law and historical examples,
which still resonated powerfully in early sixteenth-century Moscow.In by far his
longest epistle to Karpov, for example, Maxim imme-diately begins his
denunciation of astrology by turning to the authority of the Church Fathers: We
suggest to you the many notable Christian teachers, who, so to say, laid bare
before you and manifestly pointed to the fraud of studiously observing the
movement of the stars, and far repudiated this teaching from the holy enclosure
of the Church, so that from their words, which are brought to us, you may fully
study the truth.50.
He cites Basil of
Caesarea, John Chrysostomos and Augustine as figures who warned of the dangers of astrology as an instrument of the
devil. Indeed, Maxim paraphrases the latter’s The Literal Meaning of
Genesis , when he states ‘that [astrology] is the invention of the devil
and by means of secret intercourse with the devil [it is possible] to prophesy
about the future and to divinate about events.51.
Maxim also stresses
the fundamental place of revealed prophecy, rather than astrological
prediction. In this regard he illustrates to Karpov how the ‘righteous Ezekiel’
did not resort to ‘divining by the stars or to observing the songs and flights of birds’; instead, he draws on Ezekiel 26 when
describing how the Old Testament prophet went with ‘heartfelt tears and grief
to the All-Mighty to save him from sin’ when he had the vision of the
destruction of the city walls of Tyre.52.
Interestingly,
Maxim also includes a long quotation from The Clementine Homilies in his
disputation against astrology. This tract was purportedly written by Pope
Clement I (fl. 96) and tells the story of a
dialogue between his father, Faustus, and the apostle Peter. It is treated with
utter credulity by Maxim, who introduces the story in the following manner:
‘Faust, the father of Clement, as a Greek and experienced in astrology, tried
to convince and demonstrate to Peter that there was no divine providence, but
that everything was dependent upon birth (under the known planet) and from
fate, which the Romans called “fortune”.53.
There then follows nearly the
entirety of Peter’s arguments against astrology, which conclude with the
apostle reiterating its blasphemous nature: Most certainly it is. For if all
the sins of men, and all their acts of impiety and licentiousness, owe their
origin to the stars, and if the stars have been appointed by God to do this
work, so as to be the efficient causes of all
evils, then the sins of all are traced up to Him who placed Genesis in the
stars.54.
Like Pico, Maxim
argues that Plato refuted astrological thought, stressing that he was ‘the very
first external philosopher’ and
that he ‘expelled [astrology] far from the general philosophical statutes of
his philosophy.55.
Indeed, in the
epistle he wrote to ‘a certain monk’ Maxim also follows the Piconian model of
providing a history of the origins and acceptance of astrology. Thus, it is
noted that ‘the false teaching received its origins from Zoroaster and other
ancient magicians, residing in Persia’.56.
Thenceforth, it was
energetically embraced by the Egyptians, and then the Greeks, who according to
Maxim ‘invented many other villainous abuses’.57.
One such abuse, as
stated by Maxim, was the wheel of fortune, which was described in the Tabula by
Cebes the Theban.58.
By far the largest
section of Maxim’s epistle to Karpov is devoted to the highly controversial
(and topical) question of whether astrology can aid rulers in their onerous
duties. It is evident that in broaching this thorny subject Maxim is seeking to
directly refute Karpov’s positive evaluation of astrology: You say that nobody
from ancient royalty and the most glorious and valiant military leaders
achieved anything without observing the stars for forewarnings and answers. On
this basis you explain that the science is necessary, as it preserves and
strengthens in human society that which in it is all the more honest.59.
The first line of attack utilized by Maxim is to cite various
examples from classical history, which demonstrate the falsehood of Karpov’s
claim. Initially Maxim refers to the military exploits of Scipio Africanus the
Elder (236–183 bc ) against Carthage. He asserts that it is not written
down in any sources that the Roman general was inspired by astrological
predictions to leave Rome and to attack Hannibal’s powerbase.60.
This example is
followed by questioning whether astrological predictions played a role in the
bravery and courage displayed by Julius Caesar in his Gallic campaign.61.
The senatorial
decree issued against astrologers in ad52, during the reign of Claudius, is
also referred to by Maxim, who states that they were regarded ‘as fraudsters
and seducers and not as philosophers’.62.
After these Roman
examples, Maxim proceeds to question Karpov as to where in the histories of
Alexander the Great it is written that ‘he achieved his glorious and brave
deeds over the course of thirteen years by means of Aristotelian
astrology’? The Greek theologian then reveals even more knowledge of ancient
history by demonstrating that Thucydides at no point refers to astrology in his
account of the naval exploits of Themistocles against the fleet of Xerxes at the Battle of Salamis in 479 bc. 63.
Moving from the
ancient to the modern, Maxim then draws on personal reminiscences of his time
in Milan at the close of the fifteenth century
when he refers to the ruinous influence of the
astrologer Ambrogio Varese da Rosate (1437–1522) on Ludovico Sforza, the
Duke of Milan (1452–1508).64.
According to Maxim,
Ludovico’s indulgence in astrological falsehood was such that ‘even if it was
necessary [for him] to sit on a horse, and if Ambrogio happened to be there and
said to him that the hour was not beneficial, then he would
remove his feet from the stirrups’. Indeed, the duke would only depart ‘when
permitted [to do so] by astrology’.65.
Thus, Maxim writes
that it was as a direct consequence of his dependence upon astrology that the
duke was defeated by the French army of Louis XII in 1499 and died in captivity
the following year.66.
Moreover, Maxim
lambasts the pernicious influence of dishonest
philosophers in other parts of the Italian peninsula who ‘do violence to our
great sacraments’.67.
Specific reference in this
regard is made to Niccolò Lelio Cosmico (d. c . 1500), a court poet and
humanist from Ferrara who, according to the disparaging Maxim, proclaimed on
his deathbed that ‘tomorrow I shall be laid to rest in the Elysian Fields with
Socrates and Plato’.68.
Maxim also singles
out Agostino Nifo of Sessa (1473–1546) as a Neapolitan astrologer with a
particular hatred of ‘our faith and its rites’.69.
Switching to
Russian examples, Maxim also argues that no ruler after Vladimir’s conversion
in 988 resorted to astrology against the Tatar threat from the east. In
particular, he cites the renowned victory of Grand Prince Dmitrii Donskoi
against Mamai at the Battle of Kulikovo in 1380 as an example of how Russian
rulers did not turn to astrologers at decisive moments.70.
Another distinct
feature of Maxim’s polemic with Karpov is his wish to illustrate how divine
intervention, rather than astrological meddling, aided David, Gideon and
Constantine the Great in their greatest military victories. In regard to the
biblical figures of David and Gideon,
Maxim is livid that Karpov should think that they achieved their ‘notable and
miraculous victories’ by divination from the stars and from the flight and songs of birds. He asks Karpov whether ‘you
consider the appearance of angels [to Gideon] as some kind of astrology’.
Furthermore, Maxim remarks how David consulted with God by way of a garment —
the ephod — worn by the high priest, when seeking direction against Saul’s
intrigues.71.
Maxim also refutes
Karpov’s suggestion that Constantine the Great was swayed by astrology. In this
regard he turns to Eusebius’s Life of Constantine to demonstrate the divine
nature of the first Christian emperor’s
victory over Maxentius at the Milvian Bridge in ad 312. Thus, whilst
Maxentius is described by Maxim as being ‘zealously devoted’ to ‘divination,
magic and astrological deceptions’.72.
Constantine
received divine help when, as Eusebius writes, ‘he saw [...] the trophy of a
cross of light in the heavens, above the sun, and bearing the inscription,
CONQUER BY THIS’.73.
In his concerted
effort to trounce Karpov’s arguments in favour of astrology Maxim also astutely
draws on the highly influential work of
Matthew Blastares, a Greek Orthodox monk, theological writer and Byzantine
legal authority. In particular Maxim draws on Blastares’s magnum opus, the Syntagma
Alphabeticum (1335), which alphabetically listed church and civil laws.
It was translated into Russian in the early sixteenth century, and quickly
became established as the authoritative source for both church and state legal
procedures.74.
More specifically, Maxim draws on Syntagma Alphabeticum in order
to provide an Orthodox authority for what is effectively his Piconian approach
towards the need to separate reasoned scientific study from the dangerous pursuit of astrology. The opening salvo of
Maxim’s attack concentrates on Blastares’s general assertion that it is
forbidden to discuss mathematics, but permissible to study geometry:
If, according to
your opinion, our tsar needs the advice of astrologers and without their
instruction and advice nothing can be undertaken, then in what manner is the
tsar [meant to] define civil laws by
manifestly studying mathematics? For the royal law speaks about this with the
following words: let geometry be openly taught, but mathematics is condemned as
forbid-den. Listen deaf people, look blind people! Mathematics, it is said, is
con-demned as a forbidden practice. The tsar condemns it and expels it from his
state, but you claim that it is necessary for the tsar, and [is something] not
to be ashamed [of], speaking so patently against the truth.75.
To the modern
reader this division of mathematics and geometry appears somewhat strange.
However, by citing Blastares Maxim is adopting a demarcation stressed in the Corpus
Civilis Iuris , issued by Emperor Justinian between ad529–34. Indeed,
magicians in general in the famed Justinian Code are referred to as mathematici.76.
Moreover, article
9.18.2 states that in ad 294 the Emperors Diocletian and Maximian and the
Caesars declared that: ‘to learn and apply the science of geometry is to the
public interest. But the damnable art of the mathematicions is forbidden.’77.
Emperor Constantius
is also cited in Article 9.18.5 of the Justinian Code, when he decreed in
ad 357 that ‘no one shall consult a mathematici’, meaning an astrologer.78.
Throughout
Byzantine history astrologers were commonly called mathematici, and up until the
late seventeenth century in Russia they were also known as matematiki.79.
Thus, in Maxim’s
mind there was a great deal of overlap between ‘mathematicians’ and
‘astrologers’, whereas geometry was viewed as a rational science more akin to
what we would understand as astronomy.Maxim then directly cites Blastares’s section
about number diviners (chislogadateli ). This extract is itself drawn from
the commentary on the Thirty-Sixth Canon of the Council of Laodicea (ad 364)
by Theodore Balsamon, the twelfth-century canonist of the Greek Orthodox
Church: The followers of mathematics are they who hold the opinion that the
celestial bodies rule the universe, and that all earthly things are ruled by
their influence. Astrologers are they
who divine by the stars through the agency of demons, and place their faith in
them.80.
The commentary by
Balsamon confusingly refers to both mathematici and astrologers, with the
latter being particularly demonized for their divinatory practices.However,
whilst Maxim is adamantly opposed to all forms of astrol-ogy, he is keen to
stress his endorsement of Blastares’s stance towards the study of the four
acceptable mathematical sciences: arithmetic, music, geometry and astronomy.
This position effectively permits the study of these disciplines, although
Maxim warns that it is forbidden to ‘use them wrongly and to believe that our
circumstances are dependent upon the movement of heavenly bodies, and to
attempt to find out something about the
future.81.
In this regard
Maxim is not only follow-ing in the tradition of Blastares, but also of John
Zonaras, the renowned twelfth-century Byzantine theologian and chronicler. In
his commen-tary on the Thirty-Sixth Canon of the Council of Laodicea, for
example, Zonaras noted that ‘the science of mathematics or astronomy is not at
all hereby forbidden’, only ‘the excesses and abuse of that science.82.
In other words,
Maxim is following a Byzantine tradition that permits astronomical studies as
long as they do not veer into the forbidden astrological realm. Such recourse
to Byzantine canon law is powerfully deployed by Maxim, as he is then able to
refute Karpov’s claim that he is an obscurantist standing in the way of scientific inquiry. Where is it to be found that I
somehow in detail commanded you, Gospodin Feodor [sic], or at some time would
deter you from studying medicine, or from some other form of philosophical
knowledge? Even from the contemplation of the illuminated heavens; knowledge of
their movements and interaction from
which arise the changes of the four seasons of the year and which establish for
us the months, seasons and years.83.
In his polemics
addressed to Karpov, Maxim is forthright and persuasive, but is always aware
of the need to avoid completely alienating the influential courtier. However, such concerns are wholly absent in his
diatribes with Nicolaus Bülow, whom he perceives as his principal foe. Indeed,
in the two tracts Maxim wrote that directly related to the great conjunction of
1524, the Greek theologian is keen to stress the battle between good and evil
embodied in his personal struggle against Bülow. At the beginning of his tract
entitled ‘Against those who try to predict the future by means of considering
the stars’, for example, Maxim incorporates his present conflict with Bülow into a tradition dating back to the
Apostle Peter’s confrontation with Simon the Magus. Moreover, to stress this
link further he then cites the example of St Leo, Bishop of Catania (709–787),
who battled against the sorcerer Heliodorus, a man described in the Vita of
the saint as a servant of the devil.84.
As Alexander
Kazhdan has noted, the Byzantines created a series of Faust-like legends that
reached their peak in the Heliodorus story.85.
Thus, Maxim is
deliberately tapping into a potent source, whereby he can place his religious
and astrological duel with Bülow within a long tradition of holy figures engaging Faustian sorcerers.In this tract, Maxim
fully articulates the weight of Orthodox authority upon which he is resting
his case, prior to directly refuting Bülow’s astrological predictions regarding
the likelihood of a second Flood in 1524. He begins by providing a long
citation from Basil’s Sixth Homily on The Creation of Luminous Bodies .
The crux of the passage cited by Maxim rests on the legal and civil chaos that
would ensue if societies endorsed the deterministic basis at the core of astrology:
If the origin of our virtues and of our vices is not in ourselves, but is the
fatal consequence of our birth, it is useless for legislators to prescribe for
us what we ought to do, and what we ought to avoid: it is useless for judges to
honour virtue and punish vice. The guilt is not in the robber, not in the
assassin: it was willed for him: it was impossible for him to hold back his
hand, urged to evil by inevitable necessity. Those who laboriously cultivate the
arts are the maddest of men.86.
The extensive
quotation from Basil is then quickly followed by a lengthy extract from the
fourteenth oration of St Gregory of Nazianzus (330– c. 390): One school of
thought [...] postulates some kind of irrational and indissoluble dominion of
the stars that orchestrate our existence to suit them-selves [...] and,
further, conjunctions and oppositions on the part of certain planets and fixed stars as well as a universal motion that controls
all things.87.
This quotation is
less legalistic in tone and, I would argue, in its discussion of conjunctions
is utilized by Maxim to prepare the ground for his more direct attack on
Bülow’s predictions. Similarly, he provides a sizeable extract against
astrology from The Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith by John of Damascus
(c . 676–749), which stresses free will and repudiates the predictive
powers of stargazing:
Now the Greeks
declare that all our affairs are controlled by the rising and setting and
collision of these stars [...] for it is with these matters that astrology has
to do. But we hold that we get from them signs of rain and drought, cold and
heat, moisture and dryness, and of the various winds, and so forth, but no sign
whatever as to our actions.88.
Arguably the most
pertinent citation utilized by Maxim (in terms of refuting the predictions
concerning the grand conjunction of 1524) comes from Chrysostomos’s Seventh
Homily on Matthew:
Where then are they
who set up the power of a nativity and the cycle of times against the doctrines
of the church? For who has ever recorded that another Christ appeared: that
such a thing took place? Although they falsely affirm other things, that ten myriads of years passed, yet
this they cannot even feign. Of what kind of cycle then would ye speak? For
there was never another Sodom, nor another Gomorrah, nor another flood. How long do ye trifle, talking of a cycle and nativity? 89.
Alongside these
powerful excerpts from key patristic texts against astrology, Maxim also cites
the words of the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah in his efforts to counter
the influence of Bülow, who is
characterized as a student of the devil, whose teacher makes him wiser by
instilling in him ‘the secret of beautiful speech and demonstrations of
reasoning in order to deceive the more simple-minded’. Thus, he specifically draws on Isaiah 47:12–14, which addresses the
supposed deceptions practised by astrologers, and beseeches Bülow to listen to
the words of the Old Testament prophet.90.
Let now the
astrologers, the stargazers, the monthly prognosticators, stand up and save
thee from these things that shall come upon thee. Behold they shall be as
stubble; the fire shall burn them; they shall
not deliver themselves from the power of the flame: there shall not be a coal to warm at, nor fire to sit before it.
This denunciation
of astrology is reinforced by a warning from Jeremiah 10:2–3 to ‘learn
not the way of the heathen’ and, what is more, ‘not to be dismayed at the signs
of heaven, for the heathen are dismayed at them’. In addition to general
refutations of astrology and its purported ability to predict future events,
Maxim does directly tackle the predictions of a second Flood, which sprang
forth from Stöffler’s Almanach of 1499.
Indeed, he directly draws on the central passage of the almanac, as translated
by Bülow:
In the month of
February will occur twenty conjunctions [...] of which sixteen will occupy a
watery sign, signifying to well nigh the whole, climates, kingdoms, provinces,
estates, dignitaries, brutes, beasts of the sea, and to all dwellers on earth
indubitable mutation, variation and alteration such as we have scarce perceived
for many centuries from historiographers and our elders.91.
According to Maxim,
it is as if Bülow ‘is laughing at us’, that is Orthodox Christians, for
upholding the tenets of the Holy Scriptures.92.
In reply, Maxim
cites Genesis 9:11 and 9:15, which contain God’s promise to Noah not to inflict another deluge on the earth:
And I will
establish my covenant with you; neither shall be flesh cut off any more by the waters of a flood; neither shall there any more be a flood to destroy the earth. (Gen 9:11) And I will remember my
covenant, which is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall no more become a flood to destroy all flesh. (Gen 9:15)
By emphasizing this
crucial passage in Genesis, Maxim aims to demonstrate that those prophesying a
second deluge in 1524, such as Bülow, are contradicting the ‘testament and
indisputable word’ given by God to Noah. In other
words, they are rejecting Christianity in favour of ‘the teachings of the
devilish Chaldeans’.93.
Interestingly, the
second tract by Maxim against the Almanach translated by Bülow was
written at some point after February 1524, when a second Flood had not
inundated the earth.94.
In a triumphant
tone Maxim ridicules his German foe for persisting in his belief that the grand
conjunction signified a time of
enormous upheaval: ‘As this prediction has been rendered false and you are
disgraced, you now claim that the divination does not foretell a flood, but changes and alterations of everything
existing on the earth.’95.
However, Maxim is
quick to remind Bülow that the Almanach ‘clearly claims that this must be
accomplished by means of water’ and that ‘other stars must gather in
Aries and carry out certain transformations in the universe’.96.
Hence, in Maxim’s
eyes the German physician has been unmasked as a false prophet. He
sarcastically remarks that Bülow has been ‘sunk by his peripatetic syllogisms
and cunning words’, which have prevented the German from being reconciled with
‘what the prophets and apostles said about the mystery of the Most High
Trinity’.97.
The second half of
the denunciatory sermon reiterates God’s testament to Noah, as uttered in
Genesis 9:11 and 9:15. Moreover, Maxim articulates three reasons — in
contradistinction to the astrological predictions of a flood — why God decides to inflict punishment on people. Firstly, Maxim states that
this occurs when people lead a debauched and unclean life. As examples, he
cites the corruption of the earth before the Flood as well as the destruction
inflicted on Sodom and Gomorrah
because of the sins of its inhabitants. Secondly, God is said to punish
dishonesty and recalcitrance, as evident in his treatment of the Egyptians, who
ignored all the miracles enacted before their eyes by Moses. Lastly, God is
said to punish those who perpetrate crimes against his Commandments. In this
instance, the Babylonian captivity of the Israelites is cited as an example of
a punishment inflicted on a people, who after
prevailing over the Promised Land went on to commit crimes against God’s
Commandments.98.
4.
Conclusion
Ironically, less
than a year after the non-appearance of a great inundation in 1524 it was
Maxim the Greek, and not Bülow, who was charged with non-conformism and heresy
and tried by a Church Council in Moscow. Subsequently, whereas Maxim was to
spend the rest of his life exiled and imprisoned in various monasteries, Bülow
remained the chief physician to Vasilii III until the latter’s death in 1533.
Thus, in many ways, Maxim suffered a pyrrhic victory over Bülow. Despite the
embarrassment no doubt endured by the German after his predictions were proved
false, he could fall back on his medical duties. If carried out to the Grand
Prince’s liking, Bülow’s position as chief physician ensured his protection.
Evidently the Orthodox authorities felt more threatened by the great learning
of a Greek monk schooled in Italy than from a Catholic physician espousing
astrological principles and preaching eschatological changes. Hence, after the
Orthodox leadership had weathered the storm whipped up by Bülow prior to
February 1524, it would seem that they felt secure enough to jettison their
principal weapon of attack. One imagines not even Bülow would have predicted
this outcome at the height of his polemic with Maxim between 1521 and 1524. The
intensity of the debate played out between these two highly influential foreign figures at the
Muscovite court is indicative of the extent to which the conjunction of 1524
was a major preoccupation among many eminent personages across the whole of
Europe. In this regard, Muscovy was no exception. Although the general populace
may not have been constructing arks on Moscow’s Sparrow Hills, eminent theologians
and courtiers were undeniably transfixed by the enormous
implications of the ominous predictions extolled by Bülow.Thus, by studying
Maxim’s diatribes against astrology, and particu-larly against Bülow’s
prediction concerning 1524, one is able to glimpse the collision of two
fundamentally differing worldviews vying for pre-eminence. Moreover, one is
able to see how religious, philosophical and scientific ideas, which ostensibly emanated from Western
Europe, were debated in a Muscovite arena. Both Maxim and Bülow catered to
their Russian audience, and in the extant writings of the former the reader can
witness the unique fusion of Piconian reasoning, Byzantine theology and
Muscovite historical tradition.
1. Maxim, the Greek
(Prepodobnyi Maksim Grek),Tvoreniia, 3 vols, Sviato-Troitskaia Sergieva Lavra,
1996, 2, pp. 121–22, 277. In referring to Bülow as ‘a wolf in sheep’s
clothing’, Maxim is drawing on Matthew 7:15, which in the King James Version
reads: ‘Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but
inwardly they are ravening wolves.’
2. Over the past
century our knowledge of the furore surrounding this great conjunction in
Western Europe — and principally Italy, Germany, France and Spain — has been
greatly increased by the scholarly efforts of Gustav Hellmann, Lynn Thorndike, Ottavio
Niccoli and Paola Zambelli. See Gustav Hellmann, ‘Beiträge zur Geschichte der
Meteorologie’,Veröffentlichungen des Königlich Preussischen Meteorologischen
Instituts, 273, 1914, pp. 5–102; Lynn Thorndike, A History of Magic &
Experimental Science, 8 vols, New York, 1923–58, 5, pp. 178–233; Ottavio Niccoli,
Prophecy and Power in Renaissance Italy, trans. Lydia G. Cochrane, Princeton,
NJ, 1990; Paola Zambelli, ‘Many Ends for the World: Luca Gaurico Instigator of
the Debate in Italy and Germany’, in Paola Zambelli (ed.), ‘Astrologi
Hallucinati’: Stars and the End of the World in Luther’s Time, Berlin, 1986,
pp. 239–63.
Notes:
1. The European Context. In
1499 the German astrologers Johannes Stöffler (1452–1531) and
Jakob Pflaum (c . 1450–1500)
published their Almanach nova in Ulm, which contained catastrophic
predictions for February 1524.
3. A number of Russian
scholars over the past hundred years have discussed Maxim’s relationship to
astrology. See, for example, V. S. Ikonnikov, Maksim Grek i ego vremia.
Istoricheskoe issledovanie , Kiev, 1915, pp. 260–360; B. E. Raikov, Ocherki
po istorii geliotsentricheskogo mirovozzreniia v Rossii , Moscow and
Leningrad, 1937, pp. 92–94; L. S. Kovtun, ‘Planida—furtuna—schastnoe koleso (k
istorii russkoi idiomatiki)’, Trudy Otdela drevnerusskoi literatury, 24, 1969,
pp. 327–30. In English, see W. F. Ryan, The Bathhouse at Midnight: An
Historical Survey of Magic and Divination in Russia , Stroud, 1999, pp. 392–93.
4. For more on Maxim’s time in
Italy and Greece and his debt to Renaissance thought and Greek Orthodox
theology, see Jack Haney, From Italy to Muscovy: The Life and Works of
Maxim the Greek , Munich, 1971; Aleksei Ivanov, ‘Maksim Grek i
ital´ianskoe Vozrozhdenie’, Vizantiiskii vremennik , 33, 1972, pp. 140–57;
34, 1973, pp. 112–19; 35, 1973, pp. 119–36; D. Obolensky, ‘Italy, Mount Athos
and Muscovy: The Three Worlds of Maximos the Greek (c. 1470–1556)’, Proceedings of the British
Academy, 67, 1981, pp. 143–61; Arno Langeler, Byzan-tijn en humanist in
Rusland. Een onderzoek naar enkele van zijn bronnen en denkbeelden, Amsterdam,
1986; Hugh Olmsted, ‘A Learned Greek Monk in Muscovite Exile: Maksim the Greek
and the Old Testament Prophets’, Modern Greek Studies Yearbook , 3, 1987,
pp. 1–73.
5. Thorndike, A History
of Magic, 5, p. 181.
6. Denis Crouzet, ‘Millennial
Eschatologies in Italy, Germany, and France: 1500–1533’, Journal of Millennial
Studies , 1, 1999, 2, pp. 1–8 (p. 5).
7. B. L. van der Waerden‚ ’The
Conjunction of 3102 b.c.’, Centaurus, 24, 1980, pp. 117–31 (p. 125).
8. Crouzet, ‘Millenial
Eschatologies’, p. 5.
9. Pierre Bayle, The
Dictionary Historical and Critical of Mr Peter Bayle , 2nd edn, 5 vols,
London, 1734–38, 5, p. 243.
10. Zambelli, Many
Ends , pp. 325–26.
11. Marino Sanudo, I
Diarii , ed. Rinaldo Furin et al., 58 vols, Venice, 1879–1902, 35, cols
422–23. See also, Niccoli, Prophecy and Power , p. 142.
12. Niccolò Machiavelli,
Opere , ed. Ezio Raimondi, Milan, 1976, p. 958. See also, Niccoli,
Prophecy and Power , p. 155.
13. N. V. Sinitsyna, Tretii
Rim. Istoki i evoliutsiia russkoi srednevekovoi kontseptsii (XV–XVI vv.),
Moscow, 1998, p. 176.
14. For more on the calendar
question in Muscovy in the late fifteenth century, see H. R. Huttenbach,
‘Muscovy’s Calendar Controversy of 1491–1492’, Science and History: Studies in
Honor of Edward Rosen (Studia Copernicana), 16, 1978, pp. 187–203.
15. Iosif Volotskii,
‘Prosvetitel´’, Biblioteka Iakova Krotova <www.krotov. info/acts/16/1/1505pros_rus2.html>
[accessed 4 May 2009] (Predislovie , para. 13).
16. Ibid.
(predislovie para. 25).
17. David B. Miller, ‘The
Lübeckers Bartholomäus Ghotan and Nicolaus Bülow in Novgorod and Moscow and The
Problem of Early Western Influences on Russian Culture’, Viator , 9, 1978,
pp. 395–412 (p. 402).
18. It is known that Julius II
sought the most favourable astrological moment for the foundation of Galliera
Castle and the erection of his own statue in Bologna. See Thorndike, A History
of Magic , 6, p. 150.
19. Polnoe sobranie russkikh
letopisei , 6, Moscow, 1853, p. 266; V. Malinin, Starets Eleazarova
Monastyria Filofei: ego poslaniia. Istoriko-literaturnoe
izsledovanie , Kiev, 1901, p. 261; Miller, ‘Lübeckers’, p. 405.
20. Joseph L. Wieczynski,
‘Hermetism and Cabalism in the Heresy of the Judaizers’, Renaissance Quarterly,
28, 1975, 1, pp. 17–28 (p. 27).
21. Sinitsyna, Tretii Rim, p.
176.
22. Maxim, Tvoreniia , 1,
pp. 429–30.
23. Crouzet, ‘Millenial
Eschatologies’, p. 5.
24. Gosudarstvennyi
istoricheskii muzei, Moscow, Sinodal´noe sobranie, no. 384, ll. 365– 66.
Also see, Sinitsyna, Tretii Rim, p. 178. The unpublished manuscripts of Maxim
the Greek held at the Gosudarstvennyi istoricheskii muzei contain verbatim
citations from Nicolaus Bülow, such as the current example. See ‘Bumaga nechina
nekoego rodom, ucheniem zhe i veroiu latynina astrologin’.
25. D. S. Likhachev and L. A.
Dmitrieva (eds), Biblioteka literatury drevnei Rusi , 9, St Petersburg,
2000, pp. 291–93.
26. Sinitsyna, Tretii Rim, pp.
228–35.
27. Citations from the King
James Version. For an indepth analysis of Filofei’s articulation of his thesis
of Russia being the Third Rome, see Sinitsyna, Tretii Rim, pp. 174–252.
28. Obolensky, Three
Worlds , p. 146.
29. The Russian titles are as
follows: Protiv Nikolaia latinianina — slovo ob iskhozhdenii
Sviatago Dukha ; Poslanie ko mnogouchitel´nomu Nikolaiu nemchinu; Protiv
Nikolaia nemchina obmanshchika i zvezdochetsa . See Maxim, Tvoreniia ,
2, pp. 191–202, 202–06 and 275–76 respectively.
30. Ibid., p. 121.
31. Ibid., p. 263.
32. See ibid., pp. 206–25. See
also N. K. Nikol´skii, ‘Materialy dlia istorii drevnerusskoi dukhovnoi
pis´mennosti’, Khristianskoe Chtenie , 8–9, 1909, pp. 1119–25.
33. Maxim, Tvoreniia , 2,
pp. 214, 224.
34. Ibid., pp. 270–75. ‘Poslanie
k nekotoromu inoku, sanom igumenu, o nemetskoi prelesti imenuemoi Fortunoiu, i
o kolese eia.’
35. Ibid., p. 270.
36. Ibid., pp. 270–71.
37. Sheila J. Rabin, ‘Two
Renaissance Views of Astrology: Pico and Kepler’, unpublished PhD, City
University of New York, 1987, p. 53.
38. In her discussion of Maxim
the Greek’s defence of free will against astrology, Sinitsyna makes no
reference to the influence of Pico della Mirandola. Instead, she refers to the
debate on free will between Erasmus and Luther that took place between
September 1524 and February 1526. The former initiated the argument by
publishing On the Free Will: Diatribe or Discussionin September 1524.
Luther replied in December 1525 with Bondage of the Will . In turn,
in February 1526 Erasmus replied to Luther’s work. However, these works
postdate those by Maxim the Greek. Thus, I would argue that Maxim’s arguments
in favour of free will, expounded in a dialogue with Bülow against astrology,
were formulated in the light of Pico’s exposition of similar views in the
1490s. This is supported by his close relationship with Gianfrancesco Pico
della Mirandola at the turn of the sixteenth century. See Sinitsyna, Tretii Rim, p.
182. For more on the Erasmus-Luther debate, see Michael Allen Gillespie, The
Theological Origins of Modernity, Chicago, IL, 2008, pp. 146–61.
39. Eugenio Garin, Astrology
in the Renaissance: The Zodiac of Life, London, 1983, p. 96.
40. Giovanni Pico della
Mirandola, Disputationes adversus astrologiam divinatricem, ed. Eugenio Garin,
3 vols, Florence, 1946–52, 1, p. 44.
41. Rabin, Two Renaissance
Views, p. 48.
42. Ibid., pp. 48, 86.
43. Pico, Disputationes ,
2, pp. 498, 500, 502.
44. Ibid., 1, p. 40. Also
quoted in Rabin, Two Renaissance Views, p. 47.
45. Maxim, Tvoreniia, 2, p.
210.
46. Ibid., p. 211.
47. The Russian title is: ‘O
tom, chto Promyslom Bozhiim, a ne zvezdami i krugom schastiia ustraivaetsia
chelovecheskaia sud´ba.’ See ibid., pp. 225–39.
48. Ibid., p. 234.
49. Ibid., p. 271.
50. Ibid., p. 207.
51. Ibid., p. 210. Compare with
the words of Augustine in The Literal Meaning of Genesis : ‘Hence, we must
admit that when astrologers speak the truth, they are speaking by a mysterious
instinct that moves a man’s mind without his knowing it. When this happens for
the purpose of deceiving men, it is the work of evil spirits. To these spirits
some knowledge of the truth about the temporal order has been granted [...]
But sometimes these wicked spirits also feign the power of divination and
foretell what they themselves intend to do.’ See Augustine, The Literal Meaning
of Genesis , ed. John Hammond Taylor, New York, 1982, 1, p. 72.
52. Maxim, Tvoreniia , 2,
p. 220. 53. Ibid., p. 221.7
54. Revd Alexander Roberts and
James Donaldson (eds), The Ante-Nicene Fathers: The Writings of the Fathers
down to A.D. 325, Volume VIII: The Twelve Patriarchs, Excerpts and Epistles,
The Clementia, Apocrypha, Decretals, Memoirs of Edessa and Syriac Documents,
Remains of the First Ages, Grand Rapids, MN, 1977, p. 306.7
55. Maxim, Tvoreniia , 2,
p. 211.7
56. Ibid., p. 271.
57. Ibid.
58. See The Tablature of Cebes
the Theban, a disciple of Socrates. Being an Allegorical picture of human
life , trans. Samuel Boyse, Glasgow, 1750, p. 11, pp. 34–35.
59. Maxim, Tvoreniia , 2,
p. 211.
60. Ibid.
61. Ibid., p. 212.
62. Ibid.
63. Ibid., p. 214.
64. On Maxim’s acquaintance
with the astrological views of Rosate, see É. Denisoff, Maxime le Grec et
l’Occident. Contribution à l’histoire de la pensée religieuse et philosophique
de Michel Trivolis , Paris-Louvain, 1943, p. 200; Ivanov, ‘Maksim Grek’,
p. 146.
65. Maxim, Tvoreniia , 2,
p. 258.
66. Ibid., pp. 258–59.
67. Ibid., p. 280.
68. Ibid. Maxim refers to ‘a
certain Kobezmik Ferrarskii’. Both V. N. Zabugin and V. S. Ikonnikov argue that
Maxim is here referring to Cosmico. See V. N. Zabugin, ‘Iulii Pomponii Let:
“Kriticheskoe issledovanie”’, Istoricheskoe obozrenie , 18, 1914, p. 16;
Ikonnikov, pp. 113–14.
69. Ibid. For more on Nifo,
see Thorndike, A History of Magic , 5, pp. 69–93.
70. Maxim, Tvoreniia , 2,
p. 213.
71. Ibid., p. 219.
72. Ibid., p. 214.
73. Philip Schaff and Henry
Wace (eds), A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian
Church, second series, 14 vols, Grand Rapids, MN, 1952–56, 1,
p. 490.
74. ‘Matthew Blastares’,
Encyclopædia Britannica Online ,
<http://www. britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/69039/Matthew-Blastares>
[accessed 14 May 2009].
75. Matthew Blastares,
‘Alfavitnaia Syntagma’, in Biblioteka Iakova Krotova ,
<www.krotov.info/acts/canons/vlastar06.html> [accessed 30 April 2009]. (Letter
M, ch. 1). Also see Maxim, Tvoreniia , 2, p. 215.
76. Article 9.18 in the Codex
Iustinianus , for example, states: ‘De maleficiis et mathematicis et
ceteris similibus.’ This translates as: ‘Concerning enchanters, magicians and
other similar persons.’ See, Corpus Iuris Civilis , ed. Paul Krüger, 3
vols, Berlin, 1906, 2, p. 379.
77.The Latin text reads:
‘Artem geometriae discere atque exerceri publice intersit. Ars autem
mathematica damnabilis interdicta est.’ See ibid., p. 379.
78. The Latin text reads:
‘Nemo haruspicem consulat aut mathematicum.’ See ibid., p. 380.
79. R. A. Simonov, ‘Rossiiskie
pridvornye “matematiki” XVI–XVII vekov’, Voprosy istorii , 1986, 1, pp.
76–84 (pp. 76–77).
80. Maxim, Tvoreniia , 2,
p. 215. For Blastares’s commentary, see Blastares, ‘Alfavitnaia’, (‘O
chislogadateliakh’, Letter M, ch. 1). For Balsamon’s commentary, see Schaff and
Wace, A Select Library, 14, p. 151.
81. Maxim, Tvoreniia , 2,
p. 216.
82. Schaff and Wace, A Select
Library, 14, p. 151.
83. Maxim, Tvoreniia , 2,
p. 222.
84. For an account of St Leo’s
encounters with Heliodorus, see V. Latyshev, Neizdannye grecheskie
agiograficheskie teksty, St Petersburg, 1914, pp. 12–28.
85. Alexander Kazhdan, ‘Holy
and Unholy Miracle Workers’, in Henry Maguire (ed.), Byzantine Magic ,
Washington, D.C., 1995, p. 77.
86. Schaff and Wace, A Select
Library, 8, p. 86. See Maxim, Tvoreniia , 2, pp. 244–45.
87. St. Gregory Nazianzus, The
Fathers of the Church: A New Translation. St. Gregory of Nazianzus: Select
Orations , trans. Martha Vinson, Washington, D.C., 2003, pp. 64–65.
88. Schaff and Wace, A Select
Library, 9, p. 24b. See Maxim, Prepodobnyi , 2, pp. 260–61. John of
Damascus’s work is commonly referred to as the Bogoslovie in Russia. It
was translated into Old Church Slavonic by John the Exarch of Bulgaria,
probably before 893. For more information on the importance of this work in
early Rus´, see Anne-Laurence Caudano, ‘“Let there be Lights in the Firmament
of the Heaven”: Cosmological Depictions in Early Rus’, in Palaeoslavica ,
14, 2006, 2, pp. 10–11.
89. Schaff and Wace, A
Select Library, 10, p. 436.
90. Maxim, Tvoreniia , 2,
p. 290.
91. Cited from Thorndike, A
History of Magic , p. 181. See Maxim, Tvoreniia, 2, pp. 255, 277.
92. Ibid., p. 255.
93. Ibid., p. 277.
94. The tract is entitled
‘Slovo oblichitel´noe, otchasti, protiv latinskago zloveriia: zdes´ zhe i
protiv “Al´manakha”, kotoryi vozvelerechi, chto budet vsemirnyi potop bolee
gibel´nyi, chem upominaemyi kogdalibo’ (‘Denunciatory Sermon, partly against
the evil belief of the Latins: here against the “Almanach”, which extols that
there shall be a universal flood more destructive than ever recorded’). See
Maxim, Tvoreniia , 2, pp. 276–93.
95. Ibid., p. 278.
96. Ibid.
97. Ibid., p. 279.
98. Ibid., p. 287.
