Sixth, the very vain observation of omens must be referred here. Blessed Chrysostom speaks of it in the twenty-first homily to the people of Antioch: “And what, after all, are omens? Often someone leaving his house sees a one-eyed or lame man and takes it as an omen.” And afterward: “If you meet a virgin, the day will be barren; but if you meet a harlot, it will be favorable, full, and filled with much commerce.” Soon, as was fitting, he attacks this madness.
When Ausonius recognizes only three omens, he is refuted by the others, who recalled more. Perhaps he was speaking only of the principal ones. But how vain they are in this matter, St. Augustine writes thus: “To these are added thousands of most empty observations: if some member of the body twitches; if, when friends are walking together, a stone, dog, or boy comes between them; and that practice, when they tread on the stone as though on a divider of friendship, is less troublesome than when they strike an innocent boy with the fist, if he has run between them while they were walking together. But it is fine that boys are sometimes avenged by dogs. For some are often so superstitious that they dare even to strike a dog that has come between them, and not with impunity. For from an empty remedy the dog quickly sends his striker to a true physician.
“Hence also come those practices: to tread on one’s own threshold when passing before one’s house; to return to bed if someone sneezes while putting on his shoes; to return home if he stumbles while setting out; when a garment is gnawed by mice, to fear more the suspicion of a future evil than to grieve over the present damage. Hence that saying of Cato was elegantly spoken. When he had been consulted by a certain man who said that his shoes had been gnawed by mice, he answered that this was no marvel; it would truly have been a marvel if the mice had been gnawed by the shoes.”
You see how many kinds are enumerated here by St. Augustine. First there is the twitching-omen. Isidore teaches that ominous observers of this kind were called salissatores or salitores. In an old glossary the term is called twitching and palpitation. The chief species of this are from the eyelids or the eyes. Suidas and Theocritus mention the latter; Plautus mentions the former in the Braggart Soldier: “Sorceress, collector, fortune-teller, diviner: it is shameful if nothing is sent to the woman whose eyebrow looks upward.” And in the Pseudolus: “It must be because something is going to happen; my eyebrow jumps so.” See Caelius, book 7, chapter 29.
To this seems to be referred the fact that some observe the spontaneous sound of the right or left ear, so that if the latter rings they think an enemy, if the former a friend, is then recalling our memory. Aristaenetus writes of this, saying in sense: “Did not your ear resound when, weeping, I remembered you?” And somewhere to this seems to pertain that line of the Lesbian poet converted by the poet of Verona: “My ears tingle with their own sound.” More plainly, a certain ancient, though uncertain, poet wrote: “Talkative ear, why do you resound to me through whole nights? I do not know whom you say is now remembering me.” To refer this to sympathy between lovers is too far-fetched.
To this also belongs scapulimancy, which is done by bare inspection of shoulder blades. An omen is also taken from the body by sneezing and by stumbling of the foot, about which we shall soon say more.
Some omens are drawn from a name, others from chance words of other people, others from things that happen at home, and others from things that happen on the road. From a name came what Glycas narrates concerning Augustus: that he named the city he had built Nicopolis, and placed there bronze statues of a man and an ass, because on the night that preceded the battle of Actium he had come upon a man who was driving an ass; when Augustus had asked him about his name, the man answered, “My name is Eutyches,” that is, “happy,” “and the ass’s name is Nico,” that is, “victor.”
From words spoken by chance come those which Cicero thought were properly called omens, as when the daughter of a consul, who was thinking of the war against Perseus, told her father that Perseus was dead, which was the name of a little Maltese dog.
[margin: Aristaenetus, in an amatory epistle; an ancient Catalepton or Virgilian collection note; Glycas, Annals, part 3]
House-omens are those in Plautus: if a black dog has entered another person’s house, or a snake has fallen through the roof-compluvium from the tiles; or, as many sin today, if the saltcellar is overturned, if wine is spilled, if sneezing at table is more frequent or less frequent, if some sad word has been spoken at a banquet, if someone has crossed one leg over the other, if a dog has howled, if a raven sitting on the roof has croaked, and things of this sort.
The things that happen outdoors are no fewer. This kind they call a road omen, such as those St. Augustine reported; likewise if a hare seems to have broken off a journey by leaping across it, if one has seen a wolf, a goat, or another animal on the road, and, what has arisen from the irreligious mind of heretics, if one meets a monk on setting out. This is mentioned also by Peter of Blois in letter 65, along with infinite other examples, as the table inserted after the end of this section will show.
The Romans formerly attributed very much to this ominous observation, as is clear from Cicero’s books On Divination and Valerius Maximus, book 1, chapter 5. Likewise the Greeks and Egyptians did so, as Pausanias teaches in the Achaica and Theophrastus in the Characters, where he sets out many examples. So also did the Syrians, as sacred Scripture witnesses in the history of the Kings, Third Kings 20:33, where the word “omen” is read, which St. Augustine says he did not find in the sacred books. Perhaps he came upon books in which it was not present. The men took it for an omen and snatched at the word, as it is now read in the Septuagint; or rather the verb there was interpreted in the general sense, “they divined,” just as the Hebrew term is general and must be interpreted according to the subject. Therefore our translation most rightly renders “they took it as an omen.”
On the vanity of all these things one should read Peter of Blois, the letter just cited, Francis Pico, Wimpina, Michael Medina, Benedict Pererius, and Julius Sirenius. The principal reason is that, since omens have no certain cause but depend entirely on chance, they can almost always be drawn toward contrary outcomes. Let an example be that saying of Anchises in Virgil, who says that horses seen give hope of peace and threaten war.
But it is a very different thing to drag a chance omen wherever one wishes, and to ask God for a sign from a necessary cause tending to the honor of God. In sacred Scripture Abraham’s servant, Gideon, and Jonathan lawfully did this; Thomas the Englishman spoke excellently about Abraham’s servant in his commentary there. In other histories Gregory VII did it in the case of the simoniac cardinal, according to Martin the Pole; and St. Augustine and Clovis, king of the Franks, did the same. If anyone wants many things about various species of omens, different from ours, he will be able to read Peter of Blois and John of Salisbury, provided he remembers that John is not approving them but recording them as vices of courtiers. Above all these words which he adds should be noted:
Other matters of this kind are so many that they could weary talkative Fabius. Whatever house has rested upon them, I do not think it can be saved even by salvation itself.
Therefore let this be the conclusion: it is always illicit to observe all omens.
Although Cajetan writes, “Without any presage a man can prudently beware of approaching things by doubting whether the present encounter is a sign of the future from a common celestial cause for both, or even from divine providence. For example, if someone, falling bodily, fears some fall in his state or honor, and so forth. Yet he should not for that reason desist from works prudently to be done, but should watch more cautiously, and so forth. For it can be that this fall is an effect of the cause of the future fall and for that reason signifies it.”
[margin: Cicero, On Divination, book 1; Plautus; Pausanias, Achaica; Theophrastus, Characters; Third Kings 20; Francis Pico; Wimpina, On Divination, chapter 13; Michael Medina, On Right Faith in God, book 1, chapter 2; Pererius on Genesis 24; Sirenius, On Fate, book 9, chapters 21-22; Genesis 24; Judges 7; First Kings 14; Fulgentius, book 1, chapter 3; Egnatius, book 1, chapter 4]
In truth this is about things that happen very rarely or never. And if it ever happens, it will not be an omen properly so called, but rather a prodigy sent by God and to be referred to lawful observation of wonders for amendment of morals. Indeed this observation of Cajetan has always seemed to me to open the door to that ominous observation which always seemed most empty to St. Augustine and the others.
To use Cicero’s words in On Divination, if we admit this, will we not have to observe the stumbling of the foot, the breaking of a shoelace, and sneezes? Will not the superstitious person always make the excuse that any stumbling of the feet shows divine anger to him beforehand? For what else did the Gentiles contend? Did they not observe this in Tiberius Gracchus, that on the day he was killed, as he was leaving home, he struck his foot very heavily against the threshold? Will they not say that this same thing happened to Crassus on the day of the unlucky battle? Does Ovid not write this about the husband of Laodamia?
When you wished to go out from your father’s doors to Troy, Your foot, offended by the threshold, gave a sign. When I saw it, I groaned, and in silent breast I said: “Let those be signs, I pray, of a man who will return.”
Will not even Tibullus, worthy now of pardon, say of himself:
[margin: Peter of Blois, letter 65; John of Salisbury, Policraticus or On the Trifles of Courtiers, book 1, final chapter; Cajetan, in the Summa under “superstition”; Augustine, On Christian Doctrine, book 2, chapter 20; Pico, Wimpina, Sirenius, Medina, Pererius, John of Salisbury, and Peter of Blois are cited as authorities against omen observation]
How often, having begun a journey, I said sad words to myself, That my foot, struck in the doorway, had given signs?
What if they said that this event came from the same cause of providence from which the deaths and slaughters of those men came? Would they not be absolved by Cajetan’s judgment?
But someone may object: Blessed Mark the Evangelist, when he was sailing to Alexandria for the sake of preaching the Gospel, broke his shoe as he was leaving the ship and, giving thanks to God, declared that his journey had been made easy. I answer that this is brought forward from apocryphal writings. Then, to use the words of Peter of Blois: “Whatever others may believe, I firmly believe that the holy Evangelist did not say this from superstitious curiosity. Even if his shoe had never been broken, the Lord would nevertheless have revealed to him by the Holy Spirit the success of his journey.”
So says Peter, who adds another omen, namely that of those who, if someone on the journey asks where they are going, immediately turn back. They rely on the deed of Judith, who, when departing, forbade anyone to ask where she was going, as though the question had some omen that could impede the journey she had undertaken. But this is to interpret the mind of the holy widow wrongly. She forbade it only so that no one would delay what she had begun by conversation and greetings, or so that they would not investigate too curiously what she was going out to do.
With regard to sneezes, there will always be some way for them to excuse themselves. If something adverse happens to the person who sneezes, he will draw both events from the same cause. If another is happier and obtains what he wished, he will say that this was a sign of success, and that it happened from a common supernatural celestial cause, not from a natural one. The ancients judged sneezing to be a middle omen, as the scholiast on Theocritus noted, and for that reason, when someone sneezed, those standing by spoke good words to him, so that if anything evil was being portended, they might turn it away by favorable prayer.
They thought a morning sneeze entirely unlucky, but one at noon a very firm auspice and an indication that the attempt would not be in vain, even on Aristotle’s authority, especially if it came from the right side. Hence Propertius:
Now, on the first day when you were born, my life, Dry Love sneezed a clear omen for you.
[margin: Valerius Maximus, book 1, chapter 4; Plutarch on Gracchus and Crassus; Ovid, Heroides; Tibullus; Peter of Blois, letter 65; Judith 8; Theocritus scholia; Pliny, Natural History, book 28; Apuleius, The Golden Ass, book 2; Aristotle, Problems; Xenophon, Anabasis, book 6; Propertius; Catullus; Homeric Hymn to Mercury; Cato, On Agriculture; Ausonius; Polydore, On Prodigies; Nauclerus, Marvels]
And Catullus, concerning Acme and Septimius, calls the approval of a sneeze on the right side a good auspice. What then? They even observed a breaking of wind. Among Greeks this was a good omen, as appears from the Hymn to Mercury; among Latins it was judged unlucky, as others have observed from Cato’s On Agriculture. The ancients were equally ridiculous about the mouse omen, concerning which, besides Pliny in the Natural History, they also rightly understand that line of Ausonius: “What quadruped is joined to omens of birds? The mouse.” See the first book of Ausonian Readings, chapter 25.
Let this suffice concerning the trifles of omens. Polydore, in the third book On Prodigies, and Nauclerus, in the second book of Marvels, also say some things about them.
Here the table marked with this sign is to be inserted.
[margin: Suetonius on Augustus and Caligula; Ovid, Fasti; Festus under “Strenia”; Aristotle, On the Heavens, book 2; Council of Auxerre, chapter 1; Augustine in Gratian; Pope Martin; Ambrose, sermon 17; Fourth Council of Toledo; Roman council under Pope Zacharias; Burchard, Penitential, book 19]