The Greeks call this oneiropolia, on which there is a little book of Senarii edited by Junius Hornanus. Of the other ancient interpreters of dreams, with no great loss to the commonwealth, all books have perished except one Artemidorus of Daldis, a delirious old man, who in five books gathered together everything handed down by others. Today the Arabic Apotelesmata of Apomasar are valued. Among recent writers I could wish that Conrad Wimpina had not piled up so many things without an antidote. In the memory of our grandfathers Junianus Maius most vainly professed this art in Italy; some letters and grammatical little books of his survive. Thomas Muntzer, one of the parents of the Anabaptists, fashioned prophecy from dreams. Brazilian Indians observe dreams on campaign: if they dream that they are roasting the flesh of enemies, they judge it a prosperous dream and promise themselves victory; but if, on the contrary, they dream that their own flesh is roasted, they fear that they will be conquered by enemies. Only those seem to me to be read usefully on this matter who, with St. Thomas and St. Antoninus, have weighed to whom it is lawful to attend to dreams and to whom it is permitted to interpret them. I shall imitate them.
[margin: Dream-interpretation authorities: Junius Hornanus’s little book of Senarii; Artemidorus of Daldis in five books; Apomasar’s Arabic Apotelesmata; Conrad Wimpina, whose dream material Del Rio thinks too unguarded; Junianus Maius; Thomas Muntzer; Johannes Stadius, Brazilian History, book 2, chapter 27, on Brazilian Indians’ campaign dreams; Thomas Aquinas, II-II, question 95, article 6; Antoninus, part 2, title 12, chapter 1, sections 6-7]
Macrobius, in the first book of the Dream of Scipio, whom John of Salisbury follows, divides dreams into enypnion, phantasma, oneiros, horama, and chrematismos: nightmare, apparition, dream, vision, and oracle. But Artemidorus reduced those five to two: to enypnion and oneiros. Under enypnion he places phantasma; under oneiros he includes vision and oracle, because these follow it. The Gentiles agree that the first species, enypnion and phantasma, are asemantoi, that is, signify or warn of nothing. A dream, therefore, taken strictly and as opposed to enypnion, they define as a multiform fiction of the soul, stirred in sleep, signifying future goods or evils.
[margin: Dream classifications: Macrobius, Commentary on the Dream of Scipio, book 1; John of Salisbury, Policraticus, book 2; Artemidorus, book 1, chapter 2, reducing the five species to enypnion and oneiros]
They set down as the foundation of this prediction experience and a certain likeness of proportion between the thing dreamed and the event. They call it experience if one or more people, after dreaming this or that, have later experienced such and such a fortune. They investigate that likeness of proportion in an even more foully ridiculous way. First, from some manner or custom: for example, a shaved head is honorable and religious for monks, because it agrees with their morals and rules; therefore if a monk dreams that this happens to him, it will be a prosperous dream. But if a married man dreams the same, they will say it is an unfavorable omen, because it is dishonorable for married men to walk about with shaved heads. Second, from the meaning of a word: one hears or reads the name Serapis; he will die, because Serapis is the same as Pluto and Orcus. Third, from the hieroglyphic signification of a thing: if someone seems to himself to be chained to a temple, he will become a priest and serve that temple forever. Fourth, from fabulous narratives: someone wandering in the Isthmus seemed to himself to seek his little son; his son will perish by drowning, according to the fable of Melicertes. Fifth, from some far-fetched astronomical or physical reason: someone dreamed that he was seeking light from the moon; he will become blind, because the moon lacks its own light. Again, someone seems in dreams to have the hands of a bear; he will be condemned to the beasts and, bound to a stake, devoured by a bear. Why? Because a bear, hiding in a cave, puts out its hand and escapes by eating, and from that draws nourishment. These are the foundations of the art, as childish as they are ingenious. Artemidorus is wonderfully ridiculous in them: what once happened by chance to one person, he draws into consequence and constructs tow-like canons by which merely accidental cases are dragged toward predicting similar events.
[margin: Artemidorus on experience, proportional likeness, Serapis and Orcus, Melicertes, and other dream-interpretation devices]
From this it appears, first, that no trust should be given to oneiropolic books of this sort, and that those who turn their mind to such writings are deservedly condemned; specifically, the fictitious books on this subject attributed to Abraham and Solomon, and the little dream book falsely circulated under the name of the prophet Daniel, which is treated in Gratian’s Decree. It appears, second, that the counsel of Synesius is superstitious when he advises each person to make for himself from his own dreams, by comparison with the things he later suffered, a certain art of conjecturing. Francesco Pico long ago carefully refuted this useless study and vain invention.
[margin: Condemned dream books: Gratian, Decree, chapter Non observetis, on fictitious dream books of Abraham and Solomon and the falsely circulated dream book under Daniel’s name; Synesius, On Dreams, advising a private art of conjecture from one’s own dreams; Francesco Pico, On Foreknowledge, book 6, refuting that vain study]
Nevertheless let the first conclusion be this: some dreams announce a true event beforehand; some announce none, or an illusory one. Therefore some may be observed, and some may not.
This conclusion is excellently confirmed by Prudentius in his hymn before sleep, in these verses:
But while friendly rest wanders through all the veins and waters the people, at ease, with pleasing sleep, the free sense wanders through cares with swift vigor, and through varied figures sees things that are hidden. Since the mind, freed from cares, whose origin is heaven and pure fountain from the ether, cannot lie idle, it shapes for itself, in imitation, multiform faces, through which, suddenly running, it enjoys the subtle air. Yet horror wears out the scattered senses of dreamers. Now a splendor wanders in, which grants knowledge of future things; often, after truths have been scattered, a lying image deceives minds with dark ambiguity, fear, and heat.
These things are canonical and certain. What he adds is not equally so, although it often happens:
Whom rare guilt of morals does not frequently pollute, him a bright light, flashing clearly, teaches hidden things; but he who has defiled his impious heart with vices sees terrifying forms as a punishment’s fearful game.
[margin: Prudentius on true and false dreams]
This conclusion is opposed to many. It is against Xenophanes of Colophon and the Epicureans, who wanted all dreams to be despised; and it is against the Stoics, Protagoras, Artemidorus, Apollonius of Tyana, and the like, who hold that if it is a dream, it necessarily signifies something, as is clear from their definition set above, and therefore they do not wish any dreams to be neglected or passed over. Sacred Scripture condemns both extremes: the Stoics when it says, “Where there are many dreams, there are many vanities and innumerable words; but fear God,” and again, “Dreams lift up the imprudent; as one who grasps a shadow and pursues the wind, so is he who attends to lying visions.” It condemns the Epicureans when it supplies everywhere so many examples of divine dreams and interpretation. Therefore Homer and Virgil more rightly invented the fable of the two gates of dreams, through the ivory gate false dreams are sent out, through the horn gate true ones, to indicate that some dreams must be taken as true and signifying, others as false and empty.
[margin: Extremes about dreams: Xenophanes of Colophon and the Epicureans despise all dreams; Stoics, Protagoras, Artemidorus, Apollonius of Tyana, and similar writers make every dream significant; Ecclesiastes 5:6 and Sirach 34:1 condemn vain dreams; Homer and Virgil, Aeneid, book 6, distinguish false ivory-gate dreams from true horn-gate dreams]
The second conclusion is this: dreams are as certain as their cause is certain. If the cause certainly produces a certain effect, the prediction of dreams is also certain; if it produces it probably, the prediction is probable; if by chance, it is accidental and deceptive.
This requires only explanation. Synesius, in the commentary already mentioned, invents a certain phantastic spirit, which he wants to be the vehicle of the soul, the author and maker of all dreams. This is a Platonic fiction equal to the fables of poets. Porphyry recognizes two causes: one, good and bad demons, which we admit is a cause of some dreams; the other, certain notions which the soul, brought with it from another life, has carried into the body. This is foreign to the dogmas of faith. For the soul of man is not older than the body, coming from elsewhere; nor when it is infused by God does it bring with it any species created together with it. Aristotle denies that any dreams are sent by God, which is wholly contrary to Holy Scripture. Plato, on the other hand, ascribes all dreams to demons, which is contrary to sound philosophy and daily experience. Hippocrates was better: he ascribes true dreams partly to God, partly to natural causes. He would have touched the matter most sharply if he had added the third member, not omitted by St. Gregory, who most rightly ascribed dreams to three authors: God, nature, and the demon. Hence later theologians have divided them in the same way: into divine, natural, and demonic dreams. The chief difficulty concerns natural dreams.
[margin: Causes of dreams: Synesius’s phantastic spirit in the commentary on dreams; Porphyry on demons and innate notions from a prior life; Aristotle, On Divination through Dreams, denying dreams are sent by God; Plato, Symposium, ascribing dreams to demons; Hippocrates, On Dreams, assigning true dreams partly to God and partly to natural causes; Gregory, Moralia, book 8, chapter 13, and Dialogues, book 4, chapter 48, assigning dreams to God, nature, and the demon]
Natural dreams arise either from a cause intrinsic to the dreamer or from a cause extrinsic to him. Intrinsic dreams are born, some chiefly from the soul, and then the cause is called animal, or, as some say, moral; others chiefly from the body, and that cause is called corporeal, or by others, speaking strictly, natural. The intrinsic animal cause occurs when dreams come about from matters to which the thought of the person while awake had been very intent, according to Solomon’s saying: “Dreams follow many cares.” On this cause Attius says:
The things that men pursue in life, think, care for, see, and do while awake, the same things happen to them in sleep. It is less a marvel.
Lucretius and many others judged the same. I have cited them elsewhere; I shall not repeat them now. St. Gregory of Nyssa wrote very acutely that such dreams are to be judged like a lyre whose strings, once the impulse of the hand has ceased, still tremble and ring a little with the last motion.
[margin: Dreams from waking thoughts: Solomon, Ecclesiastes 5:2; Attius’s verses on what people pursue while awake recurring in sleep; Lucretius and others cited elsewhere by Del Rio; Gregory of Nyssa, On the Making of Man, comparing such dreams to lyre-strings still trembling after the hand’s impulse ceases]
The corporeal intrinsic cause arises from the present disposition and temperament of the body, which has been exhausted by hunger or filled by gluttony, or suffers because some humor predominates too much, or labors under some other internal defect. From these causes arise peaceful dreams, troubled dreams, or dreams varied in many ways. Those whose blood is more abundant dream of crimson roses, saffron, gardens, banquets, dances, embraces, air, flight, and all joyful things. Phlegmatics dream of sea, waters, baths, sailings, submersions, heavy burdens, and a slow flight hindered by harmful things. Cholerics dream of yellow colors, quarrels, fights, and fires. Melancholics dream of smoke, darkness, shadows, wanderings through lonely places, nocturnal roamings, grim specters, deaths, and other sad things. Those whose bladder is full of fluid dream of pools, rivers, and rains, and sometimes wet their sheets while dreaming. Those in whom sincere and pure juices predominate think in dreams that they are rolling among fragrant and pleasant little flowers; contrariwise, those in whose body foul and putrid humors are piled up think they are among filthy things, mud, sewers, and corpses. Those whose posterior parts of the brain are affected and obstructed by viscous humor seem to themselves in dreams to be pressed and suffocated. The Greeks call this ephialtes, the Latins the incubus disease, the Spanish pesadilla, the French la toquemaire.
[margin: Corporeal dreams from humors and bodily condition; ephialtes, incubus disease, pesadilla, and la toquemaire]
The extrinsic natural cause of dreams occurs when the imagination of the sleeper is moved by an external agent. This agent is twofold: the surrounding air, and the impression or influence of the celestial bodies. For just as celestial bodies by their influence on corporeal matter generate various forms of stones, metals, and plants, so, by flowing into the imagination, which is immersed in corporeal organs, it must not be denied that imaginable species can be produced by celestial bodies, corresponding to the effect flowing from those heavenly bodies.
Concerning these causes, let the third conclusion be this: the observation and interpretation of dreams derived from natural causes is lawful insofar as natural causes are adequately joined to effects caused by them.
Physicians, Hippocrates and Galen, and theologians agree in this conclusion, and it is deduced from what has already been said. It needs only explanation. When the cause is intrinsic and animal, we can observe the dream so that in the future we may arrange our studies and life better and more safely. Is there someone whom reading or daytime thought soils during the night with foul illusions? Let him exclude with all possible care similar thoughts. Is another person terrified by frequent dreams and driven into pusillanimity, despair, or some other vice? He should inquire into the causes of the dreams and procure remedies by which he may be freed. Conversely, is another person urged by dreams toward the good, such as religion, celibacy, or repentance? Let him test whether these things are, as they seem, from God. The interpretation of such natural dreams depends on experience and great shrewdness, and on knowledge of the studies, morals, and inclinations found in individuals.
[margin: Hippocrates and Galen on lawful interpretation of natural dreams]
When the intrinsic cause is corporeal, a person can fear impending illnesses and prepare himself. Galen writes that when someone had dreamed that his other leg had become stone, he soon became paralytic in that part of the body. The same cause is sometimes so vehement and accelerated that when someone dreams that something is happening to him, it is in fact happening to him then. An example of Cornelius Rufinus may be sought from Pliny the Elder.
[margin: Galen and Pliny on bodily dreams, paralysis, and Cornelius Rufinus]
When the natural cause is extrinsic, then it must be seen whether the effect has some principle in us, as if the dreamer himself must do or suffer something from that cause, for example if I dream that I am going to Rome or will enter a conflict; or whether the principle of the dreamed event is wholly outside us, as that rain will be more abundant, or that a naval battle will take place, or that the Turks will be routed. These extrinsic causes are again of two kinds. Some are not so remote from the dreamer that he cannot be naturally affected and suffer from them; for example, I can today be affected by the causes of tomorrow’s rain, as those with gout and hernias experience. Others are so far removed from the dreamer that his body can be naturally affected by them in no way; for example, I cannot here be affected by the causes of rain to come here two years from now, because of the distance of time, nor by the rain immediately coming in Japan, because of the interval of place, nor by the causes by which the successor of the present queen of England is to be carried to the throne, because causes of this kind have nothing to do with the temperament of my body.
Therefore I say this: extrinsic causes which can act upon us provide some probability for the interpretation of dreams of this kind, according to the custom of approved physicians and philosophers, who compare likenesses seen in dreams with one another and weigh what things they are likenesses of and from what causes they proceed. Yet truly this probability is very slender and small. As for the extrinsic things which cannot act upon us, the observation of them is utterly uncertain and deceptive. If at times they answer to the event, that happens by chance, or by some intelligence revealing it.
From this a corollary is inferred: a person sins who divines future contingents from natural dreams, even intrinsic ones, or anything whatever that flows from the freedom of will, whether of the dreamer or another, and much more one who divines concerning those things that are customarily given by God through gratuitous grace. The reason is that these things do not depend on natural causes or on bodily temperament. So much for natural dreams.
[margin: Extrinsic natural causes of dreams; distant events, future contingents, free will, and gratuitous grace]
Demonic dreams are those which evil spirits treacherously cast into sleepers, either to stir disturbances of the soul, such as lust, anger, hatred, or despair, or to signify hidden or future things. Of these Penelope’s saying in Homer is true: “dreams are not to be cared for by me”; and the saying of the Wise Man: “Dreams have caused many to err, and those who hoped in them have fallen.” Of this kind were the bed-sleepings of the Gentiles in the shrines of Serapis, Aesculapius, Podalirius, and others, where those who lay down sought dreams. Virgil also mentions them in the Aeneid, and we have already treated them.
[margin: Demonic dreams: Penelope’s saying in Homer; Sirach 34:6 on dreams causing many to err; shrine sleepings in the temples of Serapis, Aesculapius, Podalirius, and others; Virgil, Aeneid, on incubation rites; Del Rio’s earlier treatment in chapter 1, question 2, section 2]
Less known is the account Mark the Historian, an eyewitness, writes about Venus of Gaza: “In the place called Tetramphodos,” that is, a crossroads, “there stood a marble statue, and they said it was Venus. It was above a marble altar; the statue was in the form of a naked woman, openly displaying her shameful parts. All the citizens, and especially the women, held the statue in honor, lighting lamps and offering incense. For they said that she responded in dreams to those who wished to enter marriage. They deceived one another by lying. Often, when the demon ordered them to contract marriage, it was so far from going rightly for them that divorces occurred among them, or they lived together badly.” He adds many things about lying responses, and about the statue being cast down at the sign of the cross and the demon fleeing.
[margin: Mark the Historian, eyewitness in the Life of St. Porphyrius of Gaza, on Venus of Gaza at the Tetramphodos, lying dream responses about marriage, the statue cast down at the sign of the cross, and the demon’s flight]
Of this kind are Anabaptist dreams, and such were once the dreams of the Enthusiasts. There are certain marvelous dreams of the Gentiles which can either not at all, or only with difficulty, be referred to natural causes. I shall note the places from which one who wishes may seek them: such was the dream of Epiteles the Messenian about an old woman to be freed by digging up earth between myrtle and smilax; such was that of the philosopher Aedesius in Eunapius; such that of the mother of Attila about her son; such that of Ptolemy in Tacitus; such that of Nestorius the Athenian in Zosimus, and of Julian the Apostate in the same author and in Ammianus; many others are in Valerius Maximus, but more admirable than all is what Athenaeus relates from Chares of Mytilene concerning Odatis and Zariadres.
[margin: Marvelous Gentile dreams: Pausanias in Messenia on Epiteles; Eunapius, Life of Aedesius; Antonio Bonfini, Hungarian Affairs, book 3, decade 1, on Attila’s mother; Tacitus, Histories, book 4, on Ptolemy; Zosimus on Nestorius of Athens and Julian; Ammianus, book 21, on Julian; Valerius Maximus; Athenaeus, Deipnosophists, from Chares of Mytilene on Odatis and Zariadres]
In my judgment, such was the dream in our own time of Louis de Bourbon, prince of Conde, who led the forces of the notorious heretics and rebels against the Most Christian King Charles IX, if the things Richard Dinoth wrote about him are true. The fact that he mentioned me twice in his History of the Belgian Tumult, twice, I think, deceived and not willingly, with injury to the truth in matters of which I and certain others were eyewitnesses, makes me doubt in matters belonging to others too. I believe he could have been deceived in the rest as well. This is the cause of my doubt. But in book 2, about the Gallican war, when he is about to treat the battle fought near the city of the Druids, he says: “When Conde’s men stood under the standards, awaiting the arrival of the enemy and the battle, two hares were started up between the two lines, which, although struck at by countless musket balls, went away unharmed in different directions. This was a prognostic of the next day’s battle, in which the enemy lines, after meeting each other, left the place of battle empty and went away in different directions.” This first belongs to omens, and those two hares seem to have been demons.
[margin: Richard Dinoth, Gallic War, book 2, on Louis de Bourbon, prince of Conde, before the battle near Dreux: the two hares crossing between the battle lines and Del Rio’s suspicion that they were demonic omens]
“On the day before,” he continues, “something no less prodigious happened to Conde himself, which seemed to announce the coming battle. When a great crowd of people had gathered at a certain brook through which he was crossing with his cavalry, to watch the horsemen as they passed, behold, an old woman threw herself into the middle of the water and, seizing Conde by the boot, stopped him, and looking attentively at him uttered these words: ‘Prince, go; you will suffer, but God is with you.’” Who has so dull a nose that he does not smell Satan’s invention, intended to confirm him and his companions in the Zwinglian heresy for the defense of which that war was being waged? That woman was either of the same company or one of the river nymphs, that is, an evil demon. Certainly a good spirit would not say that God was with a heretic in order to propagate heresy. But the Calvinist goes on.
“He himself also narrated that he had had a dream on the preceding night, in which it seemed to him that he had three times, at different times, descended into battle; that victory stood with him after the three chief enemies had been slain, but that afterward he had received a lethal wound.” Behold a dream, perhaps narrated by the cupbearer? Hear him fitting it to events already past, and therefore not so much a prophet as a narrator. “Later time showed that this dream of Conde was prophetic. For in the battle of Dreux, the marshal Saint-Andre fell; the duke of Guise fell in the siege of Orleans; the constable was lethally wounded in the battle of Saint-Denis; Conde afterward was killed in the battle of Bassac.” Splendidly put. There was, of course, a duel between Poltrot and Guise, whom he killed; and Prince Conde was in Poltrot when that most wicked brigand pierced Guise unexpectedly with a gunshot, although Conde never wished to admit that the deed was done by his authority. And what prevents such a dream from having been devised by Conde as a military stratagem to encourage his men and make them sure and secure of three victories? You will say the event corresponded. Go to Aristotle: he will teach that such things can happen by chance, and that it is easy to fit events to visions after they have passed.
[margin: Richard Dinoth, Gallic War, book 2, on Conde’s old-woman omen at a brook and his threefold battle dream; Del Rio rejects the Calvinist interpretation and appeals to Aristotle on chance and on fitting events to visions after they have passed]
Here belongs what Peter of Blois writes: “We are not ignorant,” says the Apostle, “of the cunning devices of Satan. By casting phantastic illusions into the minds of men, now by the flight of birds, now by the running of men, now by the dreams of beasts or by other means, he promises knowledge of future things. Thus he announces happy or unhappy outcomes of things, so that empty curiosity may trouble the quiet of hearts and so that it may gradually scrape something from the sincerity of faith.” A little later: “Yet no dreams will induce me to have faith in dreams. I do not deny that the soul frequently, from remnants of thought or from its innate insight, prefigures certain images of future things; but it is often deceived. For, as I have learned by experience, from that vision which once announced joy to me, I afterward carried back the contrary. Therefore, dearest friend, do not care for dreams.” Thus he, in letter 65 of Buseus’ best edition.
[margin: Peter of Blois, letter 65 in Buseus’s edition, on Satan’s devices, phantastic illusions, and why no dreams should induce faith in dreams]
On these matters let the fourth conclusion be this: it is lawful to observe demonic dreams in order to beware of the demon’s fraud; it is neither lawful nor useful to observe them for knowledge of hidden things or future events. The first part is clear, because this is salutary for the soul and sometimes necessary. The second part is proved because it is forbidden by God’s law: “You shall not augur, nor observe dreams.” Again, because interpretation of these cannot, apart from miracle, be had except from a pact with a demon, which is utterly unlawful. Nor can this be useful, because knowledge of hidden things received in this way is curious and superstitious; and the knowledge of future contingents is nothing but deceptive, since it is uncertain even to the Devil.
[margin: Leviticus 19:26 and Deuteronomy 18:10 against augury and observing dreams; John of Salisbury, Policraticus, book 2, chapter 17, on demonic dream interpretation]
Divine dreams are suggested to us by God, through the mediation of good angels. Their causes and modes have already been explained. One who wishes will find examples everywhere: those of Emperor Theodosius, Arnobius the rhetor, Emperor Maurice, Bardas, and Eulogius; perhaps such was Alexander the Great’s dream about Ptolemy’s health being restored, and that of Castriot’s mother in Barletius, and many in Fulgosius.
[margin: Divine dream examples: Theodosius in Theodoret, Ecclesiastical History, book 5, chapter 6; Arnobius in Jerome’s continuation of Eusebius’s Chronicle; Emperor Maurice in Glycas’s Annals, part 4; Bardas in the same Glycas; Eulogius in Augustine, On Care for the Dead; Alexander and Ptolemy in Diodorus, book 17; Castriot’s mother in Barletius, book 1; Fulgosius, Examples, book 1, chapter 5]
Let the fifth conclusion be this: the observation of divine dreams is lawful, but interpretation belongs only to those to whom the revelation of interpretation has been made by God. The first part is clear because they are sent by God so that we may observe them, and so that they may teach, warn, and correct us. The second part is proved by Daniel’s words: “The mystery about which the king asks, the wise men, magi, soothsayers, and haruspices cannot declare to the king; but there is a God in heaven revealing mysteries, who has shown you,” and so on. Later he says, “To me also, not by any wisdom that is in me more than in all living men, this mystery has been revealed, but so that the interpretation might be made manifest to the king.” Paul also says: “The things of God no one has known except the Spirit of God.”
[margin: Daniel 2:27 and 2:30 on God revealing mysteries and interpretation; 1 Corinthians 2:11 on the things of God known by the Spirit of God]
To discern demonic from divine dreams belongs especially to confessors and to those who practice the medicine of souls, who are endowed with the gift of discernment of spirits. This judgment depends on the causes and other circumstances, in the same way we have taught that visions and revelations must be weighed. In summary, this must be observed: if it is clear that the dream was not born from an animal or corporeal cause, but it is doubtful whether it is from God or from the Devil, it will be safest if you beware of and despise it as sent by the Devil. This rule is proved, first, from the Wise Man Sirach, who teaches that extrinsic dreams should be despised when they are not known to have been sent by God. For this is the sense of those words: “Unless the visitation has been sent from the Most High, do not give your heart to dreams.” Second, it is proved by reason, because curious observation of dreams in order to recognize this distinction is unnecessary: when God sends a dream, he is accustomed at the same time to make a person certain that the dream has proceeded from him and was sent from heaven. Third, it is taught by experience. For those who have curiously attended to dreams have been driven headlong into very grave calamities and ruin by the interpretation of dreams that followed: Homer’s Agamemnon in the Iliad, Cyrus king of the Persians, Xerxes, Onomarchus, Antigonus, and Pompey.
[margin: Sirach 34:6 on not giving the heart to dreams unless visitation is sent from the Most High; ruin through dream interpretation: Homer’s Agamemnon; Cyrus in Herodotus, book 1; Xerxes in Herodotus, book 7; Onomarchus in Diodorus, book 16; Antigonus in Plutarch, Demetrius; Pompey in Plutarch, Pompey]
At this point I would bring dreams to an end, were there not coming to mind that frequent and, to me, most pleasing familiarity with the distinguished Justus Lipsius when I lived at Leuven. Our frequent conversation then, about literature, the formation of morals, and other matters, was pleasant and delightful to me; its loss is now painful and bitter. One day the conversation turned to prophetic dreams. Then he reported that in Brussels, some twenty years before, there had been the wife of a certain shoemaker who predicted very many things to various people, all confirmed by the outcome exactly: that Spellius, the official over the roads, whom we in Brabant call de Roy roe, would be taken to the cross; that Requesens the governor would soon die of disease; that the supreme council of the king would suffer violence and many councilors be thrown into prison; and many similar things. He said that he himself had seen and heard her more than once. She used to say that in dreams a certain spirit entered into her, in the form of a diffused white body, whose lineaments she could not distinguish; that she was taught everything by him; and that whenever he appeared she was always struck with such continuous horror that she seemed to faint. Afterward he compelled her, even at the peril of her life, to announce to others the things taught to her in dreams, and did not allow her rest until she carried out the commands. She was a rather contemptible and simple little woman, not indeed of bad reputation, but neither of proven holiness.
[margin: Justus Lipsius’s Leuven recollection of the Brussels shoemaker’s wife, seen and heard by him, who predicted Spellius’s execution, Luis de Requesens’s death, and violence against the King’s supreme council; she described a formless white spirit entering dreams, causing horror, and compelling disclosure]
Several thoughts suddenly rise in my mind about this matter. As certain as it is that these dreams were supernatural, so doubtful to me is whether they were divine or demonic. Divine dreams are accustomed to occur to women no less than to men, and neither low condition nor poverty of persons is an obstacle. A certain usual horror also accompanies divine apparitions. Compulsion to speak is also accustomed to be added. Yet in this narrative several things shine through to me which make me suspect that these things proceeded from a dark rather than a white spirit. First, that figure of diffused whiteness was always formless and always brought continuous horror, not followed by joy and tranquility of mind. This gives a not obscure indication of an author lying about his whiteness. The sex was suspect, and the condition commended nothing, since neither holiness, prudence, devotion, nor other signs of this kind accompanied it. No profit or gain came to her from this, but often beatings and almost always insults. So it is accustomed to happen to witches, and the demon pays this wage to his own.
Then, the things she predicted were indeed about public affairs, but knowledge of them was of little necessity to the public, because they were predicted when they could scarcely be guarded against, namely only a few days before they happened. They were also predicted in vain, by a little woman alone, to whom no prudent man would have given faith. God is not accustomed to indicate, bare of all persuasive force, the things he wants to be known and guarded against in advance. Finally, the things she predicted were of the kind that could be subject not only to a demon’s conjecture, but even to human prudence. Spellius’ punishment: the demon knew that he was already accused, and that because of frequent accusations of secret denunciations his actions and life were being seriously and diligently investigated. The illness of Luis de Requesens was an anthrax in a body at once obese and very bilious. Who would not foresee that it would be lethal, when physicians judge from external signs? Could not that thunder-struck Aesculapius, to whom the internal things of the body are open? The efforts of the Estates against the Council of State had already long been cooking. Satan knew the boldness and attempts of Hessels, whom he was stimulating; he knew among the councilors who were hated, who more, who less; he saw the conspirators keeping watch, while others either did not believe, or despised, or were stupefied. To sniff out what would happen, and what consequence followed from similar premises, as dialecticians say, was not a matter of great or supernatural sagacity. But let these things stand subject to better judgment.
[margin: Del Rio’s judgment on the Brussels dreams; Justus Lipsius; Spellius, Luis de Requesens, the Council of State, and Hessels]
I call the political lot that which has sometimes been received by right and good laws: such as the divisory lot, the contract of lots, canonical purgation, and the various vulgar purgations which were once permitted but are now condemned. Each of these must be treated.