a compilation from the Latin medical writers. Wanley presumes that Bald wrote it; but the words imply rather possession than authorship. Their construction is ambiguous. We find several Saxon MSS. of medical botany. There is one, a translation of the Herbarium of Apuleius, with some good drawings of herbs and flowers, in the Cotton Library. Their remedies were usually vegetable medicines. We have a few hints of their surgical attentions, but they seem. not to have exceeded those common operations which every people, a little removed from barbarism, cannot fail to know and to use. We read of a skull fractured by a fall from a horse, which the surgeon closed and bound up; of a man whose legs and arms were broken by a fall, which the surgeons cured by tight ligatures ;* and of a diseased head, in the treatment of which the medical attendants were successful. But we find many cases in which their efforts were unavailing: thus in an instance of a great swelling on the eyelid, which grew daily, and threatened the loss of the sight, the surgeons exhausted their skill to no purpose, and declared that it must be cut off. In a case of a great swelling, with burning heat, on the neck, where the necklace came, it was laid open to let out the noxious matter; this treatment gave the patient ease for two days, but on the third the pains returned, and she died. Another person had his knee swelled, and the muscles of his leg drawn up till it became a contracted limb. Medical aid is said to have been in vain, till an angel advised wheat flour to be boiled in milk, and the limb to be poulticed with it, applied while warm. To recover his frozen feet, a person put them into the bowels of a horse. Venesection was in use. We read of a man bled in the arm. The operation seems to have been done unskilfully, for a great pain came on while bleeding, and the arm swelled very much.* Their lancet was called æder-seax, or vein-knife. But their practice of phlebotomy was governed by the most mischievous superstition; it was not used when expediency required, but when their superstitions permitted. They marked the seasons and the days on which they believed that bleeding would be fatal. Even Theodore, the monk, to whom they owed so much of their literature, added to their follies on this subject, by imparting the notion that it was dangerous to bleed when the light of the moon and the tides were increasing. According to the rules laid down in an Anglo-Saxon MS., the second, third, fifth, sixth, ninth, eleventh, fifteenth, seventeenth, and twentieth days of the month were bad b Bald habet hunc librum Cild quem conscribere jussit. MS. Cott. Vitel. c. 3. f Bede, v. 2. i Ibid. p. 230. 1 Ibid. v. 3. d Bede, v. c. 6. * Ibid. iv. 32. i Malmsb. 201. Wanl. Cat. 180. days for bleeding. On the tenth, thirteenth, nineteenth, twentyfirst, twenty-third, twenty-fourth, twenty-fifth, twenty-sixth, and twenty-eighth days, it was hurtful to bleed, except during certain hours of the days. The rest of the month was proper for phlebotomy. They had their tales to support their credulity. Thus we read of "sum læce, or a physician, who let his horse blood on one of these days, and it lay soon dead."n m We will add, as a specimen of their medical charms, their incantation to cure a fever. "In nomine dni nri Ihu Xpi tera tera tera testis contera taberna gise ges mande leis bois eis andies mandies moab leb lebes Dns ds adjutor sit illi ill eax filiax artifex am." Two of their medicines may be added, one for the cure of consumption, the other for the gout. With lungen adle.-"Take hwite hare hunan (white horehound) and ysypo (hyssop) and rudan (rue) and galluc (sowbread,) and brysewyrt, and brunwyrt (brown wort,) and wude merce (parsley,) and grundeswylian (groundsel,) of each twenty pennyweights, and take one sester? full of old ale, and seethe the herbs till the liquor be half boiled away. Drink every day fasting a neap-full cold, and in the evening as much warm.' With fot adle (the gout).—" Take the herb datulus or titulosa, which we call greata crauleac (tuberose isis.) Take the heads of it, and dry them very much, and take thereof a penny weight and a half, and the pear-tree and roman bark, and cummin, and a fourth part of laurel-berries, and of the other herbs half a pennyweight of each, and six pepper-corns, and grind all to dust, and put two egg-shells full of wine. This is true leechcraft. Give it to the man to drink till he be well."a n Ibid. 126. m MS. Cott. Lib. Tiber. A. 3. • Ibid. 125. P The quantity of a sester appears, from the following curious list of AngloSaxon weights and measures, to have been fifteen pints: Pund eler gepihth xii penegum lærre chonne pund pærres. Pund ealoch gepihch vi penegum maɲe thoñ pund pœther. Pund piner gepihch xv penegum moɲe chon 1 pund pærrer. Pund huniger gepihch xxxiv penegum moɲe thoñ pund pærrer. Pund buteɲan gepihтh lxxx penegum lærre chon pund pærres. Puno beoper gepihch xxii pene gum lærre thon pund pærrer. Puno meloper gepihch cxv penegum ærre thoñ pund paper. Pund beana gepihth Iv penegum lærre thon pund pætres. And xv pund pærres gath to Sertɲe. a MS. Cott, Lib. Vitell. c. 3. Saxon MS. ap. Wanley Cat. p. 179. CHAPTER VIII. The Anglo-Saxon Metaphysics. THE three men of letters among the Anglo-Saxons who handled any branch of the metaphysical subjects, besides Alfred, were Bede, Alcuin, and Joannes Erigena. It is in the tract on substances that Bede's metaphysical tendencies appear. He compares the three inseparable essences of the Trinity to the circularity, light, and heat of the sun. The globular body of the sun never leaves the heavens; but its light, which he compares to the Filial Personality, and its heat, which he applies to the Spiritual Essence, descend to earth, and diffuse themselves everywhere, animating the mind, and pervading and softening the heart. Yet, although universally present, light seems never to quit the sun, for there we always behold it; and heat is its unceasing companion. As circles have neither beginning nor end, such is the Deity. Nothing is above; nothing is below; nothing is beyond him; no term concludes him; no time confines him." He pursues the same analogies in other parts of nature. In water he traces the spring; its flowing river, and terminating lake. They differ in form, but are one in substance, and are always inseparable. No river can flow without its spring, and must issue into some collecting locality.b In his treatise on the soul, Alcuin, in a short but rational essay, discusses its faculties and nature. A few selections may interest: He distinguishes in it a threefold nature: the appetitive; the rational, and the irascible. Two of these we have in common with animals; but man alone reasons, counsels, and excels in intelligence. The rational faculty should govern the others: its virtues are, prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude; and if these be made perfect by benevolence, they bring the soul near to the Divine nature.c "The memory, the will, and the intelligence, are all distinct, yet one. Though each be separate, they are perfectly united. I perceive that I perceive, will, and remember; I will to remember, perceive, and will; and I remember that I have willed, perceived, and recollected." a Bede de Subst. vol. ii. p. 304-306. b Ibid. p. 307. His view of nature is not unpleasing. "Observe how all things are made to suit, and are governed: heat by cold; cold by heat; day by night; and winter by summer. See how the heavens and the earth are respectively adorned: the heavens by the sun, the moon, and stars; the earth by its beautiful flowers, and its herbs, trees, and fruits. From these mankind derive all their food; their lovely jewels; the various pictures so delectably woven in their hangings and valuable cloths; their variegated colours; the sweet melody of strings and organs; the splendour of gold and silver, and the other metals; the pleasant streams of water, so necessary to bring ships, and agitate our mills; the fragrant aroma of myrrh; and, lastly, the interesting countenance peculiar to the human form." Bede de Subst. vol. ii. p. 308. c Albini Opera, p. 770. d Ibid. "We may remark the wonderful swiftness of the soul in forming things which it has perceived by the senses. From these, as from certain messengers, it forms figures in itself, with inexpressible celerity, of whatever it has perceived of sensible things; and it lays up these forms in the treasury of its memory. "Thus, he who has seen Rome figures Rome in his mind, and its form; and when he shall hear the name of Rome, or remember it, immediately the animus of it will occur to the memory, where its form lies concealed. The soul there recognises it, where it had hidden it. "It is yet more wonderful, that if unknown things be read or heard of by the ears of the soul, it immediately forms a figure of the unknown thing; as of Jerusalem. When seen it may be very different from the figure of our fancy but whatever the soul has seen in other cities that are known to it, it imagines may be in Jerusalem. From known species it images the unknown. It does not fancy walls, houses, and streets in a man; nor the limbs of a man in a city, but buildings, as are usual in cities. So in every thing. The mind from the known forms the unknown. "While I think of Jerusalem, I cannot, at that moment, think of Rome; or when I think of any other single thing, I cannot then think of many; but that thing only is present to my mind which I deliberate upon, till, sooner or later, this departs and another occurs. “This lively and heavenly faculty, which is called mens, or animus, is of such great mobility that it does not even rest in sleep. In a moment, if it chooses, it surveys heaven; it flies over the sea, and wanders through regions and cities. It places in its sight, by thinking, all things that it likes, however far removed. "The mind or soul, is the intellectual spirit, always in motion, always living, and capable of willing both good and evil. By the benignity of its Creator it is ennobled with freewill. Created to rule the movements of the flesh, it is invisible, incorporeal; without weight or colour; circumscribed, yet entire in every member of its flesh. It is now afflicted with the cares, and grieved with the pains of the body; now it sports with joy; now thinks of known things; and now seeks to explore those which are unknown. It wills some things; it does not will others. Love is natural to it. "It is called by various names: the soul, while it vivifies; the spirit, when it contemplates; sensibility, while it feels; the mind, when it knows; the intellect, when it understands; the reason, while it discriminates; the will, when it consents; the memory, when it remembers; but these are not as distinct in substance as in names: they are but one soul. Virtue is its beauty; vice its deformity. It is often so affected by some object of knowledge, that, though its eyes be open, it sees not the things before it, nor hears a sounding voice; nor feels a touching body. "As to what the soul is, nothing better occurs to us to say than that it is the spirit of life; but not of that kind of life which is in cattle, which is without a rational mind. The beauty and ornament of the human soul is the study of wisdom. What is more blessed to the soul than to love the Supreme Good, which is God? What is happier to it than to prepare itself to be worthy of everlasting beatitude, knowing itself most truly to be immortal?" But the most metaphysical treatise that appeared among the Anglo-Saxons was the elaborate work, or dialogue, of Joannes Scotus, or Erigena, the friend of Alfred and Charlemagne, on nature and its distinctions. It emulates the sublimest researches of the Grecians. It is too long to be analyzed; but a few extracts f Ibid. p. 776-778. e Albini Opera, p. 773–775. from its commencement may be acceptable, to show his style of thought and expression: "Nature may be divided into that which creates, and is not created: that which is created, and creates; that which is created, and does not create; and that which neither creates nor is created. "The essences (or what, from Aristotle, in those days they called the substance) of all visible or invisible creatures cannot be comprehended by the intellect; but whatever is perceived in every thing, or by the corporeal sense, is nothing else but an accident, which is known either by its quality or quantity, form, matter, or differences, or by its place or time. Not what it is, but how it is. "The first order of being is the Deity: He is the essence of all things. "The second begins from the most exalted, intellectual virtue nearest about the Deity, and descends from the sublimest angel to the lowest part of the rational and irrational creation. The three superior orders are, 1st, The Cherubim, Seraphim, and Thrones. The 2d, The Virtues, Powers, and Dominations. The 3d, The Principalities, Archangels, and Angels. "The cause of all things is far removed from those which have been created by it. Hence the reasons of created things, that are eternally and unchangeably in it, must be also wholly removed from their subjects. "In the angelic intellects there are certain theophanies of these reasons; that is, certain comprehensible, divine apparitions of the intellectual nature. The divine essence is fully comprehensible by no intelligent creature. "Angels see not the causes themselves of things which subsist in the Divine essence; but certain divine apparitions, or theophanies, of the eternal causes whose images they are. In this manner angels always behold God. So the just in this life, while in the extremity of death, and in the future, will see him as the angels do. "We do not see him by Himself, because angels do not. This is not possible to any creature. But we shall contemplate the theophanies which he shall make upon us, each according to the height of his sanctity and wisdom.” CHAPTER IX. The Arts of the Anglo-Saxons. THE art of music has been as universal as poetry; but, like poetry, has everywhere existed in different degrees of refinement. Among rude nations, it is in a rude and noisy state; among the more civilized, it has attained all the excellence which science, taste, feeling, and delicate organization can give. We derive the greatest portion of our most interesting music from harmony of parts; and we attain all the variety of expres sion and scientific combination which are familiar to us, by the happy use of our musical notation. The ancients were deficient Joan. Erig. de Divisione Naturæ, p. 1. Ibid. p. 1-4. |