Building up Catholic faith

The few Latin Christian thinkers we have met thus far have been rather idiosyncratic individuals, with their own quirks that never made it into official dogmas. This is true of both Tertullian’s antiphilosophical materialism and of Lactantius’s dualistic branch of Christianity. Even Victorinus’s Neoplatonic mysticism is somewhat removed from the concerns of later Catholic thinkers.

We are beginning to enter the stage of Latin Christianity, when a sense of orthodoxy was being formed. Just like Latin philosophers in general, Latin Christians were happy to follow the guidance of their Greek predecessors and contemporaries. A particularly central source of influence was Origen, whose works were being translated into Latin by figures such as Rufinus and Jerome. Writings of Origen had caused controversy in the eastern parts of Christendom, and this controversy was reflected in the west also. Jerome followed the official decree that Origen had wandered too close to heresy, for instance, by denying the punishment of the wicked and by preaching the pre-existence of human souls. Rufinus, on the other hand, was a keen follower of Origen and insisted his idol had endorsed Christian dogma. Supposed indications of heresy Rufinus explained as later forgeries by real heretics.

Even if the orthodoxy of Origen was suspect, his commentaries on various biblical books were read widely. Particularly his method of finding metaphors and allegories intrigued thinkers like Jerome and Ambrose, bishop of Milan. Despite this, both were apt to read the biblical texts also as factual accounts of actual past events, although Jerome admitted that the true worth of those texts lied in their hidden, spiritual meaning.

Jerome’s and Ambrose’s own readings of Bible and Christian faith seem to move on well-worn paths. We are all aware that God exists, Jerome says, even those who refuse to admit it. Still, we do not know what God is or his essence, because no created being can know the original source that exceeds all boundaries - in fact, Jerome continues, we humans cannot even understand the angelic hierarchies above us. Even so, we can say that a person worshiping a rock has made a mistake, because we know that rocks are limited.. From the Bible, Jerome says, we can read that God is a trinity, even if we cannot explain what that means. We still know that the three entities of the trinity are different from one another and not just different names for one entity, Jerome says, because otherwise Christianity would in no manner differ from Judaism.

Both Jerome and Ambrose affirm against Aryans that while still being distinct personas, both Creator and Logos share the same nature or divinity with themselves and with the Holy Spirit. This means that all three are equally non-generated and have the same powers. True, the powers of Logos and Spirit derive somehow from Creator, but this derivation is not a temporal process. Furthermore, the three entities are linked in all their actions, acting always in unison. Even Aryans implicitly admit all this, Ambrose insists, because they ask salvation from Logos - how could he give this, if he did not have the same powers as Creator?

There are no surprises also, when we look at God’s relation to the world and humanity. Thus, when reading Genesis, Ambrosius notes that while pagan philosophers had often assumed that the world and the four elements it consisted of had no beginning and would have no ending, Moses had known that world, and with it also time and physical elements, were created by God. Even matter didn’t exist before creation, for where would it have existed? World would also someday perish. Unlike many philosophers had assumed, Ambrose doesn’t want to say that Earth could remain stably in its position because of its even weight not pulling it to any particular direction, but endorses the idea that God works constantly to keep the seams of the world together.

The initial creation, Ambrose tells, was instantaneous. God could have, he continues, created the world as fully formed, but he chose to create it first in an undeveloped form and only later refine it to a more beautiful shape, in order to serve as a model for the human process of creation. Thus, Ambrose notes, earth was at first covered in water and shrouded by darkness of the shadow cast by heavens. This darkness was not a bad thing, Ambrose insists, since God creates only good things - the only real evil has come out of erroneous choices of free persons. Still, God created light to reveal things from the darkness.

Ambrose continues by closely following the account in Genesis, although with occasional references to classic philosophers. Thus, he tells how God created heavenly spheres, which most likely do not produce any heavenly music, like Pythagorians suggested. Ambrose is especially keen to emphasise God’s omnipotence: God just had to wish, and waters were separated to heavenly and earthly portions. Later, Ambrose adds, water was given the property to fall down and it thus receded and revealed dry earth - dry, Ambrose says making a reference to an Aristotelian idea, because dryness was the essential kernel of what earth is.

Going forward in Genesis, Ambrose’s account becomes more and more layered. There’s the account itself - for instance, that God made plants grow out of dry earth. In addition, there’s the reason why it happened - because animals and humans needed plants for food, and more particularly, because humans needed e.g. wine for medicinal purposes. There’s also the reason why it happened at this moment in the account of Genesis - because God wanted to show that life-giving force came out of him, not out of the sun. Finally, there are various symbolisms, such as the short lifespan of grass representing the decay of human bodies, and thorny roses showing how sorrow and beauty intermingle in life.

The sun, the moon and the stars - as Ambrose already noted - were generated after the plants and were thus no divinities ruling life, but only servants appointed by God to help life., Furthermore, Ambrose continues, even though God had made them also to measure the process of time and to sometimes even serve as signs of important events, they still do not ordain the fates and characters of individuals. After all, this would remove all responsibility, since humans couldn’t freely decide how to act. Furthermore, this is even a physical impossibility, because the fleeting movement of stars and planets couldn’t have any influence on such a stable thing as one’s character. Indeed, this is a truth that everyone admits in their heart: they still worry for their life, no matter what an astrologer tells them about their fate.

The further Ambrose goes in his account of Genesis, the more symbolisms he finds. He connects various types of water animals with different types of persons - for instance, a cunning crab, preying on oysters, is like a devious scoundrel abusing innocent people for their own benefit. Even more than analogues, Ambrose continues, the sea is full of paradigms for good human behaviour. Water animals are usually more gentle than their land-based counterparts - just compare a sea lion to a regular lion. They stay peacefully in their own appointed living areas, even without the help of walls and borders. They follow the guidance of God, like fish who travel many kilometres just to breed. Even so measly looking things like urchins have a divinely appointed awareness of rising storms.

Avian kingdom offers Ambrose further examples of good characters. Thus, he compares cranes with vigilant guards, congratulates crows for protecting other species of birds, while humans are inhospitable even to their close neighbours, sings the praises of a swallow’s motherly care and takes vultures as an example of chaste procreation. He somewhat surprisingly mentions also bees, which he takes to form an ideal state with a good king who governs hard-working citizens. He even references the legendary phoenix, because it offers such a splendid proof of resurrection.

The theme of finding both proofs of divine foresight and moral parallels continues when Ambrose turns his attention to land creatures. Thus, he e.g. notes how giraffes have just the right size of a neck for getting their sustenance and praises dogs for being better instinctual reasoners than logicians with their rules. Yet, nearing the point of humans appearing, he also notes their superiority in comparison with all the animals. This superiority is acknowledged by animals themselves, since even ferocious tigers and huge elephants serve humans. Even more, it is acknowledged by God, who found creation to be complete only after humans had come into existence. Humans were made by Logos, Ambrose notes, in the image of divinity - this, he says, refers especially to soul, since God has no body. Still, Ambrose admits, even human bodies are models of perfection, starting from eyes, which give light to our bodily existence, down to feet, which are a symbol of humility, bearing the weight of the whole body.

After creation, Ambrose continues, first humans were placed within paradise. Against a purely symbolic reading, where paradise would be just an allegory of non-bodily existence, Ambrose simply notes that it is a place and thus something where human bodies have also existed. He does admit also the more symbolic level of the story - paradise is the state of a virtuous person, watered by the rivers of wisdom, temperance, courage and justice.

The two levels of actual history and symbolism are also present in Ambrose’s account of Fall. God had created in a paradise a tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Thus, understanding of good and evil as such is not a bad thing. It is even useful to know that some things are not good for a virtuous person, who has also nourished himself with other fruits or virtues. Indeed, even God himself understands what is good and what evil. It is only when this understanding is not balanced by the virtues and is thus one-sided and even faulty that it becomes deadly, because it connects us with what is evil and thus distances us from God, the source of all life.

Action of taking the fruit of the dangerous tree is not just something distancing us from the divine, Ambrose says, but also a sin, a crime against God. God has said to human beings that they shouldn’t touch forbidden knowledge. Humans have an instinctual understanding that they should follow the directives of their creator. Breaking divine commands is then something that deserves a punishment, even if humans did not at first have a proper understanding of what is evil, Ambrose concludes.

Since the story of Fall is for Ambrose also literal history, he faces the question wasn’t God responsible for the whole event, especially as he knew what humans would do. Ambrose’s answer is that God has strictly understood done nothing evil - he has just instructed humans, and they have themselves chosen to disobey these instructions, falling then prey to death. Even God’s prescience is not a reason to disparage him, Ambrose says, because he knows humans will have enough means to free themselves from the fallen state. The fault lies, then, not in God, but in human beings. Specifically, Ambrose insists in a misogynistic fashion, it lies with the original female, who first broke the divine command and then, because of fear of being the only one to be expelled from paradise, allured the male to follow her. But the greatest blame falls on the devil, who used lies to get the female sin.

Wherever the guilt is placed, all humans are now tainted by sin, says Jerome, even the seemingly innocent newborns. Human life is a lie or an ephemeral phantom life. For life on earth this means inevitable finiteness - humans are bound to die and feel the weight of death even in their last years. What happens after death depends on what their reaction to their own sinfulness has been, Jerome notes: whether they have tried to purify themselves or whether they have endorsed the sinful life. This does not mean that humans could avoid sin by themselves - divine help is needed, and even with that help humans in their earthly life cannot avoid sin for long.

The outcome of the Fall is death, but, Ambrose notes, death can mean many things. Death in its bad sense means simply sin and fall from divine grace, which is evil for the human soul. Death in its ordinary sense, or separation of body and soul, on the other hand, can be either good or bad, depending on how much the soul in question has attached itself to earthly life. For a soul that has lived a good life, death means just a return to divine grace and a fulfillment of a symbolic love affair with Christ. Eventually, Jerome says, good people will return to life. Not just as bodiless phantoms or mere whiffs of insubstantial air, but as real human bodies. They will even retain the division of sexes and thus show their superiority by not being affected by animal desires anymore.

This promise of eternal blessedness, Ambrosius insists, makes Christian ethics far more effective than ethics of pagan philosophers, who did not take into account the afterlife and the divine providence in their search for happiness. Here Ambrosius is in line with the more general trend of Christians trying to show that their thinkers rivaled and even surpassed pagan philosophers: trend apparent, for instance, in Jerome’s attempt to put together a list of remarkable Christian writers, who provide what Plato and Aristotle could only promise.

Another missing ingredient from pagan philosophy is the incarnation, in which Logos combined with a flesh and blood human being. Ambrosius declares that in this combination Logos did retain its distinct nature and did not become literally material nor a mere ignorant human being. Instead, this human side of Christ had its own nature, even if forming an inseparable unity with Logos. It is the human part of Christ that does not know the divine plan, while Logos itself undoubtedly knew it. The combination with Logos helped make Christ a sinless person and finally gave all humans an ability to search for blessedness.

What then is good life required for blessedness? Ambrose gives, firstly, a rather traditional Platonic answer: one should avoid the guidance of senses and follow reason. Yet, he also notes that for a human being it is impossible by one’s own strength to rise above senses to this state of being governed by reason. Instead, humility is important. Young people especially should admit the help of more experienced people and know when to listen to them, while at the same time avoiding the company of people looking only for their pleasure. Jerome also emphasises the meaning of obedience: if we think that we could gain blessedness by our own means, we are already falling to the sin of pride. Indeed, he says, we can will to be sinless, but mere will is by itself not enough to make us sinless, because we still need divine grace to make it true. Jerome even warns young people not to become solitary ascetics, but to enter communities, where members can support one another in their quest for purity.

Like young people listen to their elders, so should each human accept divine help. One form of this help is the Bible: Ambrose emphasises the role of biblical figures as models and patterns of both good and bad behaviour. Thus, he mentions Cain as the epitome of a person governed by sensual pleasure, while Abel is then the corresponding epitome of virtuous life. Seemingly cruel end of Abel is actually a blessing, Ambrose says, since the virtuous person is quickly reunited with their maker. Cain, on the other hand, has to live his long life to the bitter end with feelings of guilt and repentance clouding his mind.

Moving further in the Bible, Ambrose sees in the tale of six refuges an indication of a corresponding number of routes, by which a person can escape from the snares of the sense world. The best route, Ambrose says, is to meditate on divine Logos and its relationship to the Creator and imitate them in your own life. Since that requires intellectual effort, which all are not capable of, there is a second route available: contemplation of creation and the love of God shown in it. If a person fails to see goodness in the world, she can still follow the third route and follow God out of fear of his rulership. Most people cannot enter these three higher routes and they thus have need for the three lesser routes: they must ask for God’s forgiveness, they must obey commands of God’s law and they must avoid what God has decreed sinful. The higher routes are especially reserved for priests, who have a special duty toward their congregation.

Ambrose goes on to search instances of individual virtues in biblical figures. He notes that Enoch and Noah embodied the virtue of wisdom, with their close connection to divine understanding. The basis of this virtue is our innate desire to know things. Yet, only some people understand what it is good to know and do not consider them with frivolities, such as astronomic and geometric studies. The proper use of wisdom is to gain an understanding of the divine as a source of everything and on this basis to become aware of what one should do in order to connect with the divine.

Patriarchs, on the other hand, were paradigms of temperance, because of their patient obedience of God’s commands. Temperate persons, Ambrosius says, gain a peaceful state of mind by controlling their desires. By doing this, they maintain their decorum and live the life God intended to them as temporal images of divine eternity.

Moses and the judges were paragons of courage, as they had bravely fulfilled God’s will and conquered the land of Israel. Still, Ambrosius notes, courage is useful not just in the times of war, but also in the time of peace, like the fate of martyrs had shown. Courage is useful, because it makes us indifferent to bad luck and thus pacifies our mind from the fear of an uncertain future.

Finally, the good kings of Israel were the epitomes of justice. This virtue, Ambrose says, is a basis of community life, creating bonds between humans. He notes that Christian understanding of justice is higher than that of pagans, who did not understand that all goods are common property of all humans, not private property of an individual. Thus, Ambrose says, those in need should be generously helped. Of course, generosity need not be blind, he admits, but we can e.g. choose believers over non-believers, if we have only enough to share with some. Indeed, it is the family and its benevolence that is the original source of justice, which we just then project to other people.

Like Ambrose, Jerome emphasises also the importance of benevolence and charity. Since gathering riches tends to make us less charitable, Jerome recommends taking up a life of poverty. Indeed, he suggests that a life in poverty could provide a sure way to the kingdom of God, just like martyrdom did at the times, when Christians were persecuted. He is thus eager to tell about the exemplary lives of Christian ascetics, who ran away from earthly riches and pleasures to solitude, where they fought against literal and figurative demons. Jerome also thinks that these past figures have even now a power to assist human beings who ask for their help. Indeed, if God has a power to help humans, surely he can give a similar power to people who have earned it. This power to assist can even be ingrained in pieces of their dead bodies, left as relics to the later generations. Jerome even allows replacing the worship of idols with the worship of great Christians - while the former separates humans from the real divinity, the latter is another means for connecting us with the true God.

Jerome is not satisfied with showing virtue to be a characteristic of past figures. Thus, he shares accounts of contemporary people living in communities with fellow Christians, trying to emulate the lives of ascetics of earlier generations. He presents a quartet he knew, each epitomising one of the aforementioned virtues. First of them, the widowed Paula, divided her fortune righteously to her children and then spent the rest of her life on a pilgrimage in the Holy Land. Of her daughters, Eustochium remained courageously unmarried, against the traditions of her noble upbringing, and dedicated her life to following her mother in her journeys. Another daughter, Paulina, married the wise Christian senator Pammachius and temperately dedicated her own life to giving birth to further virgins.

Virginity is for Jerome a good step toward virtuous life, because he thinks sexuality makes us think more about other people than God. True, God did encourage people to procreate earlier, Jerome admits, but immediately adds that we are now living at the end of times and filling the world with people is not anymore an important task. Thus, he praises Mary, the mother of Logos, for her virginity, and insists that Mary had no children after Jesus (supposed brothers of Jesus in the Bible were, according to Jerome, further removed relatives, like cousins), showing that even in marriage a person can live virginally.

Despite giving examples of all the virtuous Christians, Jerome points out that while humans can act in a completely sinless and virtuous manner at times and in some aspects, no one during their earthly life is able to do this all the time and in regard to all aspects of virtue. A complete virtue is achievable only after our death, when everything is again linked to God, while in our earthly life we can only seek and approach full virtue.

The result of a life seeking virtue, Ambrosius says, is blessedness. Although this blessedness is eternal life, it is not something that begins after one’s death, but starts already with the earthly life of a virtuous person. This blessedness is not freedom from pain or mere earthly pleasure. Indeed, just like virtue, it is something independent of bodily life, namely, communion with the divine, which is an essential element of virtue itself. Search for external goods might even distract us from finding this, the highest good. While virtuous life is good in itself, because of its connection to the divine, it is also otherwise useful, Ambrosius notes, since virtuous life takes care of our body and mind, keeping them pure and healthy. Virtue also makes people love our good nature and trust our wise advice, creating friendship and feeling of community between people and connecting humans with angels and God.

Indeed, virtue is useful not merely for the virtuous person, but for the whole community, especially if the virtue lies in a ruler. Virtuous person shares their goods with others, e.g. handing money for those in need. Yet, Ambrosius adds, they do not do this with no consideration, but give more to those who deserve it because of their behaviour, thus guiding others toward virtuous life. Furthermore, whenever a virtuous act seems to be in contradiction with usefulness, Ambrosius notes, it is always the temporary gain of an individual that we are thinking of. True measure of usefulness lies in the community, he clarifies, and this is always in agreement with virtue - we should live for others, not for ourselves.

What then of those who fail the standards of virtuous life and fall again and again for sinful acts? Should they be driven away from the Christian community after a few failed attempts, like Tertullian had insisted? Ambrosius notes that God has been forgiving in his dealings with the humans. Thus, the church should also be forgiving and welcome the missing sheep into its fold, if they appear repentant. A particular case of this repentance concerns heretics wanting to integrate back into the main line church. Jerome speaks for a case-by-case consideration, where the church officials decide, depending on the circumstances, on what conditions the return could happen and whether e.g. rebabtism is required. Certainly one could make no general decree that e.g. no heretical priests could ever return to that same role.

Compiling information

Simplistic tales are often those hardest to refute, not because they are true, but because they form a clear and understandable picture of the messiness of the real world. Take the neat story of how the ancient world turned to Middle Ages: Christians took over the kingdom of Rome, persecuted all the pagans doing real science, burned their writings and killed them, making Europe into a cultural wasteland, soon made into a real wasteland by the wandering barbarian tribes.

This particular story makes an essential mistake in supposing that Christians would have had any unified agenda. Instead, we have on the level of church governance, many sects competing on what the official dogma should be, and even within the sect that finally became the Catholic church, there were many actors with diverse agendas. Individual outbreaks of violence against polytheists by Christians did occur - most famous being the murder of the mathematician and philosopher Hypatia - but these were not officially sanctioned and often these were even condoned as not in the spirit of Christianity.

The church wasn’t completely neutral toward polytheists: bishops were happy to hinder all public display of traditional polytheistic rites by removing altars for the old gods, and some books on magical rituals were ordered to be destroyed. Yet, the prevalent tendency toward classical culture, literature and learning was one of appreciation.

The main reason for the destruction of many of the ancient pieces of writing is simply that physical copies of them were not eternal - the material that they were written on might have deteriorated or it might have been cleaned of text for further use - and there was no long lasting attempt to preserve them all. If there weren’t a large number of copies of some work in circulation, it was highly probable that it wouldn’t survive into modern days.

Lot of classical works did survive in the eastern part of the Roman empire, but general histories of European thought often tend to forget this, since they are more interested in the developments in the western side of the empire. The two parts were, of course, differentiated by language, Greek being the major language in the East, Latin in the West. As we have noticed many times earlier, Latin part of the Roman empire was almost like an intellectual backwater, where ideas discussed in the Greek part flowed much later and in not so great abundance. When the two parts drifted finally apart and the communication between them diminished, the Latin-speaking part had on many fields of learning only few summarised compilations to lean on to.

Compilers like Martianus Capella were thus important for the development of western medieval thought, even if the content of their works was far from groundbreaking. Martianus’ work was also a literary example for many medieval allegories. His compilation is framed by a story of god Mercury, patron of rhetoric, marrying a mortal woman, Philology, representing scholarly expertise. The setting of the story combines traditional polytheism with Neoplatonic influences - mythological stories of gods are joined with a more philosophical account of divinely animated planets, and Jupiter especially plays also a role of the Neoplatonic Intellect or Nus. Particularly noteworthy is the idea that even humans can rise to the celestial rank of gods, if they just educate themselves enough.

The story of the marriage leads to the handmaidens of Philology, each named after some field of learning, giving a speech about her field. Somewhat surprisingly, given that their audience is supposed to be full of learned divinities, the content of these lectures is rather elementary. Thus, the first handmaiden, Grammar, speaks about Latin letters, possible syllables formed of them and different classes of inflections. The second handmaiden, Dialectics, speaks then of the semantic classes of the words, continues by indicating how words are combined into sentences, shows various simple logical relations between sentences and finishes by showing what new sentences can be deduced out of given assumptions. The third handmaiden, Rhetorics, indicates various situations, where sentences should be put together into convincing speeches, delineates the structure of such speeches and rounds off with tricks for making the speech sound eloquent.

Martianus’ account of the more mathematical disciplines is even less impressive. The fifth handmaiden, Geometry, spends most of her time telling about the geography of the known world, on the pretext that geometry is all about measuring land areas. Of the discipline proper, she manages to expound only few elementary definitions of basic shapes. Arithmetic fares a bit better, as she uses only relatively little time with Pythagorean numerology and then proceeds to expound with comprehensive detail some basic properties of numbers and their divisibility. Even so, she does not really prove any arithmetical theorem she presents, but merely exemplifies them with some appropriate numbers.

The final chapters of the book concentrate mostly on some elementary facts of the disciplines in question. The account of Astronomy seems to contain no mention of any astrology, although we cannot be sure, since what has survived from her speech lacks the ending. Harmony does begin her speech by telling how the music guides the heavenly spheres, but then quickly continues with basics about rhythm and melody.

While Martianus’s book is an independent work, specifically dedicated to presenting basic information on a systematically chosen set of fields of learning, achievements of Greek scholars were transmitted to the early western medievals also through commentaries on works of philosophers from previous generations. As the prevailing character of the philosophy of the day was Platonist, so the philosophers chosen were also of Platonist schools of thought. So, while Martianus presented learning with a Platonist covering, these commentaries were completely soaked in Platonist teachings.

We’ve already seen one example of such a commentary, namely Calcidius’ work on Plato’s Timaeus, which contained, for instance, a section dedicated to astronomy. Another work of the same sort was written by Macrobius. He chose to comment on a work of Cicero on good republic. Cicero’s obvious reference point had been Plato’s seminal work on republic, and just like Plato had ended his work with a fable showing what happens to people after death, Cicero had also finished with a section describing how Scipio, a Roman general and statesman, had seen a dream describing what life after death was like.

It was this specific section in Cicero’s work that Macrobius wanted to deal with. Because ironically at least from Plato onward philosophers had been doubtful of the worth of doing philosophy through fables, Macrobius sees it fit to begin his commentary with an apology of philosophical fables. Macrobius notes that the highest levels of the ontological hierarchy cannot be dealt in fables, since these are completely detached from the world of perception and cannot be clothed in images, except through some inappropriate analogies. Then again, they are appropriate, he says, specifically, when dealing with divinities of common polytheism and the world-soul, because they are closely connected with the world of perception, but higher in status than mere earthly things and therefore should not be discussed openly, but with a reverent attitude.

Because Cicero’s work is a fable, and even more, a fable about a prophetic and revelatory dream, Macrobius appears to think that he can look through the external account of the story and find more substantial truths even in its minor details. This makes Macrobius’ commentary appear to be full of digressions not really connected with Cicero’s work. For instance, when Scipio is told by a soul of his dead relative that a certain event will occur to him when numbers determining his life are full, Macrobius takes this as an opportunity to explain Pythagorean numerology.

Although Macrobius’ account of the properties of numbers appears to be rather full of insignificancies, he seems to be particularly interested in the idea that numbers determine the cycles of human life. This does not mean, Macrobius continues, that everything in human life is preordained - some prophecies can be avoided - but certainly some of it is, and everyone will die eventually.

Now, Cicero had noted that what happens to a person after their death is dependent on their way of life, thus, Macrobius says, he had to study ethics. Particularly, Cicero had said that work for one’s commonwealth earned a person a place in heavens. Macrobius is adamant to reconcile Cicero’s statement with a later Neoplatonic idea that political life is not the highest form of life. Macrobius thus sees life dedicated toward the well-being of other people as a stepping stone toward life where one is completely removed from earthly worries.

Indeed, Macrobius is dedicated to the Platonist idea that real death is actually the earthly life where a human soul is imprisoned by the body and its passions and desires, while death as the separation of a soul from its body gives it a chance to return to a disembodied life. This does not mean that a human being should try to actively look for death, Macrobius says, because passion for death would merely lock the soul back to a bodily life.

In addition to ethics, Macrobius says, Cicero studied physics or the structure of the world of perception. Macrobius incorporates the physical world in the common Neoplatonist hierarchy, where the incomprehensible primal source of all being creates an intelligence that both imitates the source by thinking it and in looking away from its source creates the world-soul. The world-soul, again, both imitates the intelligence and merely thinks, but also looks away from it and creates a number of bodies to which it entangles itself, dividing into a number of individual souls.

This is the place where Macrobius introduces his account of astronomy. Lot of the details Macrobius goes through are, of course, same as in Martinus’ account of astronomy, although there are some significant differences (for instance, Martinus upholds a more sophisticated theory where Mercurius and Venus circle around the Sun, not the Earth). Yet, there is an even more important difference in the reason why Macrobius is interested in astronomy. Firstly, it provides a map of the journey the human soul takes when landing from the remotest sphere of the world to Earth, gaining new and more embodied capacities at each planet. Secondly, it shows the greatness of heavens and insignificance of Earth in comparison.

Macrobius continues with an account of the geography of the Earth. His main idea is that the area of lands accessible to Roman civilization is minuscule in proportion to all the inhabited lands on Earth. Connected with the cosmological fact that the heavens circle the Earth eternally and the consequent historical fact that the human civilizations have again and again risen and fallen this idea leads Macrobius to emphasise the insignificance of earthly life.

From physics, Macrobius says, Cicero moved finally to a study of the divine. He especially pointed out the only spark of the divine on Earth, namely, the human souls. The essence of soul, Cicero said, following Plato, lies in self-movement. Macrobius defends this notion against the criticism of Aristotle that mover always differs from moved, that self-movement is therefore impossible and that all movement has begun from an unmoved mover. Macrobius follows earlier Neoplatonists in insisting that self-movement does not mean that the soul would somehow act upon itself, but simply that the soul is by nature active, just like fire does not need something outside itself to become warm. This self-motion of the soul, Macrobius explains, is not literal change of place, but closer to such activities like thinking, emoting and wanting, and through such activities human souls move.their bodies, just like the world soul moves with such activities the stars and planets

What Macrobius finds in Cicero’s work is the whole philosophy. What medievals would find in Macrobius is something else. For them, important things would be the astronomical facts and such interesting details like categories of dreams. The overarching philosophy they would get elsewhere.