A Philosopher’s Witch Trial

It is a bit of a common occurrence in my life to receive “witch” allegations. They get rather poignant around this time of year, i.e. the Halloween season. My accusers typically make these comments as playful jokes, but oh, these accusations are no joking matter! The “witch” allegations against me include, but are not limited to:

• speaking in tongues

• spell-casting and enchanting

• visiting dreams as an apparition

• studying the occult

• brewing potions

These are serious charges levied against me, and a woman must defend herself. In fact, accusations of the “witchy” sort is a historical issue for philosophers. The charges against my beloved Boethius which led to his execution in ca. 526 CE were “sacrilege” and “sorcery” (“sacrilegium” and “maleficium”). Boethius wrote his Consolation of Philosophy while imprisoned and awaiting his execution. Some scholars read the text as a defense against these charges for both himself and the discipline of philosophy, showcasing the differences between philosophy and magic, and how the ignorant often conflate the two.1 In the Consolation, Lady Philosophy reminds the Narrator about the battles she fought before even the time of Plato:2

“Do you think that now—for the first time—wisdom has been attacked by dangers among immoral men?”

“Nunc enim primum censes apud improbos mores lacessitam periculis esse sapientiam?”3

Unfortunately, Boethius was indeed executed, so we can assume his defense will not work for me. However, he is not the only philosopher to receive such scandalous accusations. Lady Philosophy lists Socrates, Anaxagoras, Zeno, Canius, Seneca, and Soranus as examples of philosophers charged with crimes and either exiled or executed for their association with the discipline.4 For the specific crime of magic, we must turn to a philosopher unmentioned by Lady Philosophy: Apuleius.

Lucius Apuleius was a second century CE Platonic philosopher, poet, novelist, and rhetorician from North Africa. His most notable work is his Metamorphoses (commonly translated at The Golden Ass), which tells the story of a man named Lucius who gets into some magical trouble and is transformed into a donkey.5 While the Metamorphoses deals with themes of magic and the occult, it is not the cause of Apuleius’ accusations of magic. The crime of magic charged against Apuleius comes from his marriage to an older, upperclass woman: Aemilia Pudentilla. Although he had the approval of one of Pudentilla’s two sons, the rest of the family was displeased. They accused Apuleius of winning Pudentilla’s affection via magic. He was subsequently put on trial, and he owes his acquittal to his defense speech which we have documented as his Apologia (The Defense).

The Apologia makes it abundantly clear from the beginning that the charges of magic against Apuleius are in part due to his philosophical practices. In his opening statement, Apuleius says:

“I—who especially relying on this one by the grace of God—give thanks that the opportunity and ability has befallen me with you as my judge for clearing philosophy’s [name] among the ignorant and proving my [innocence]. ”

“quo ego uno praecipue confisus gratulor medius Fidius, quod mihi copia et facultas te iudice optigit purgandae apud imperitos philosophiae et probandi mei.”6

Apuleius takes more than mere personal offense at the accusations of magic, he views them as a smear campaign against philosophy as well. Ignorant and uneducated men cannot tell the difference between philosophy and magic. Thus, they have conflated the two and Apuleius is thankful for the opportunity to set the record straight (and maybe show off his knowledge a little). Here, the tone of the Apologia is set: Apuleius will balance his formal speech with a bit of snark due to the outlandishness and ridiculousness of the accusations.

After explaining the context of the charges, i.e. his wife’s unhappy family (gotta’ love inlaws), Apuleius makes the point that the most serious charge against him hasn’t even been brought to court: an accusation of murdering his own stepson, Pontianus.7 This accusation was never made as a formal charge because it was such a blatant lie, which was made only for spewing abuse and not the charge of a crime in court (non tam crimina iudicio quam obiectamenta iurgio prolata).8 Thus, the accusation of magic (calumniam magiae) was the only criminal charge made against Apuleius, which fortunately for him is “more easily discredited than proven” (quae facilius infamatur quam probatur, eam solum sibi delegit ad accusandum).

My focus is specifically on the magical claims against Apuleius that relate to philosophy. As Apuleius makes apparent: no slander, significant or trivial, against philosophy shall be tolerated. Besides, people who talk poorly against philosophy are simply ignorant and have no idea the things that they gossip about.

“For I not only support my own defense, but also that of philosophy’s, whose importance rejects even the smallest criticism as the greatest accusation. On this account—a little while earlier—advocates of Aemelianus have been fabricating many things against me and they gossiped about other things with the mercenary chattiness commonly used against philosophy by ignorant men.”

“sustineo enim non modo meam, uerum etiam philosophiae defensionem, cuia magnitudo vel minimam reprehensionem pro maximo crimine aspernatur propter quod paulo prius patroni Aemiliani multa in me proprie conficta et alia communiter in philosophos sueta ab imperitis mercennaria loquacitate effutierunt.”9

The use of the word “communiter,” meaning “commonly,” to describe the prejudiced chit-chat spoken against philosophy leads me to believe that the association between philosophy and magic is both frequently and wrongly made. Let’s make one thing crystal clear: philosophy is not magic. The assertion that the two are one and the same is ridiculous and, with Apuleius as my assistant, I will prove just that.

From the very beginning of the trial, the charges of magic seem shallower than a puddle on the side of a desert road. The prosecution is quoted as saying:

“We accuse before you a philosopher: beautiful and most eloquent in Greek as in Latin.”

“accusamus apud te philosophum formonsum et tam Graece quam Latine […] disertissimum.”10

Apuleius thinks this is a joke, immediately giving a sarcastic “What a crime!” (pro nefas). Indeed, what a crime! How dare a philosopher be beautiful and know both Greek and Latin. That is simply too much power for one individual; you can only have one, beauty or brains. I understand how looks can be enchanting and infatuation can lead to some obsessive thoughts—even those in the dream realm—but I can assure you, dear readers, that beauty has nothing to do with magic.

Apuleius insists that this claim is false in more than one way, for he assures the jury that he does not even have good looks, let alone criminally good looks! He says:

“If only these serious accusations of beauty and eloquence slandered against me were true […] as the continuation of my literary work strips all charm from my body, wears down my condition, drains my spirit, erases my color, and weakens my liveliness.”

“quod utinam tam gravia formae et facundiae crimina vere mihi opprobrasset […] continuatio etiam litterati laboris omnem gratiam corpore deterget, habitudinem tenuat, sucum exsorbet, colorem obliterat, uigorem debilitat.”11

Apuleius’ devotion to his literature and studies have worn away at the beauty of his physical appearance to the point that it hardly exists anymore; this is what we call a skill issue. Although Apuleius may not have a beautiful appearance himself, that doesn’t stop him from further disproving such a ludicrous comment. He goes on to say:

“Besides: it is permitted for philosophers to have beautiful looks!”

“praeterea: licere etiam philosophis esse voltu liberali”12

This is true! Philosophers can, in fact, be beautiful—dare I say hot; trust me, I would know. Apuleius tells us that Pythagoras was said to have “the most excellent figure of his generation” (eum sui saeculi excellentissima forma) and that Plato tells us “likewise, Zeno was by far the most good looking guy” (quoque Zenonem longe decorissimum fuisse, ut Plato autumat). He then reminds us that despite philosophers being renowned for their intelligence, many also cared about their appearance:

“Similarly, many philosophers most respected by [their] speech, have been brought to memory who decorate the grace of their bodies with the honor of morals.”

“itemque multos philosophos ab ore honestissimos memoriae prodi, qui gratiam corporis morum honestamentis ornauerint.”13

With this logic, we can conclude that my own personal beauty rituals align me with those Real Philosopher™ and such care to my appearance does nothing to make me or anyone else a witch or practitioner of magic.

The court case then takes a turn onto a different, although beauty related, subject: poetry. Why have the prosecutors recounted the fact that Apuleius wrote poetry along with his charges of magic? I have no idea and neither did Apuleius. He asks the jury:

“Therefore, is [someone] a magician because [they] are a poet? […] if they are bad it is a crime, yet not of philosophy, but of poetry; but if they are good, then what do you accuse?”

“an ideo magus, quia poeta? […] si malos, crimen est, nec id tamen philosophi, sed poetae; sin bonos, quid accusas?”14

Apuleius has a good point: a poet is not a magician; likewise, a philosopher is not a magician, and a poet is not a philosopher. The court says that his poetry is “playful and a love-potion” (ludicros et amatorios), yet this is an absurd claim. A little while later in the trial, Apuleius quotes Plato to say that “enchantments are beautiful words” (τὰς δὲ ἐπῳδὰς εἶναι τοὺς λόγους τοὺς καλούς), yet this does nothing to reveal the use of magic.15 All such beautiful words prove are the power and efficacy of one’s rhetorical, poetical, or philosophical skills. These enchantments (ἐπῳδὰς, epōdas; “enchantments, charms, spells) do nothing in the realm of magic, they operate on an emotional level. Are we to insist that anything which can waver one’s emotions is a magical spell? Even if words were spells or love-potions, that would be difficult to prove. How could one measure such a thing? Imagine the metaphysical implications.

Furthermore, as Apuleius points out there are other philosophers who wrote their own poetry, such as Solon and Plato.16 What shall the court do, convict every poet who has ever lived of magic and brewing love-potions? The logistics of such an endeavor are difficult to imagine. Apuleius assures the court that there is no connection between one’s poetry and morals, and that they are being silly (ineptus):

“But am I not being silly? Who even [speaks such] things in court? Or rather you lying slanderers, who even in this accusation, [are silly] to joke as if [poetic] verses could be any proof of morals.”

“Sed sumne ego ineptus, qui haec etiam in iudicio? an vos potius calumniosi, qui etiam haec in accusatione, quasi ullum specimen morum sit versibus ludere?”17

While poetic verses have no relation to morals, one of poetry’s frequent subject matters does: love.

Apuleius makes the point that the love goddess, Venus, has two forms (“Venus is a twin goddess,” geminam esse Venerem deam): one is the “common” Venus (alteram vulgariam) and the other is the “heavenly” Venus (caelitem Venerem).18 While he acknowledges the dangers of the lower, “common” goddess, who rules the lust of men and wild animals alike (verum etiam pecuinis et ferinis ad libidinem imperitare), he praises the higher, heavenly Venus:

“Of course [the heavenly Venus’] love is not charming and lustful, but quite the opposite: it is unembellished and serious with the beauty of integrity to attract her lovers to virtue, and if she ever endorses beautiful bodies, she keeps them away from their disgrace.”

“quippe amorem eius non amoenum et lasciuum, sed contra incomitum et serium pulchritudine honestatis virtutes amatoribus suis conciliare, et si quando decora corpora commendet, a contumelia eorum procul absterrere.”19

The heavenly Venus is far from immoral or enchanting with magical spells. Her type of love is one that moves people closer to the virtues (virtutes) and the beautiful bodies she supports are ones which are held back from disgrace or insults (contumelia). For this reason, the allure or enchantment of love poetry is not magical, but rather a character flaw. Apuleius quotes Afranius (a first century BCE comic poet) who said that “the wise will love, the others will desire” (amabit sapiens, cupient ceteri). Someone is not a witch because their love poetry moved others towards desire, those others simply lack the sufficient wisdom to understand love.

Poetry is quite fun and it certainly has its charms, but not the magical sort. I myself dabble in the art of poetry: original poems, translation work, animated poems, philosophic poems, etc. The rhythmic quality of poetry helps it get stuck in one’s mind. This makes poems a useful mnemonic or annoying earworm, much like a song. It seems that the prosecution has forgotten their “M” words. Perhaps, they meant to claim that poetry is musical not magical; poema non est magica, sed melica. Words are hard, I understand the confusion. That’s why there are philosophers to help us distinguish between concepts.

Apuleius’ next move is to address the accusation of magic itself (aggredior enim iam ad ipsum crimen magiae).20 He explains to the jury how their understanding of magic is lacking historical context, and he begins to cover the history of the word “magus” (magician):

“For if, as I read in many writings, the magician in the Persian language is what in ours is a priest—then what is the crime, to be a priest and to solemnly know and to understand and to be experienced in the laws of sacred rituals, the divine law of the rites, the duty of worship, even if magic is what Plato construes, when he mentions the education which the Persians instruct to their youths for kingship.”

“Nam si, quod ego apud plurimos lego, Persarum lingua magus est qui nostra sacerdos, quod tandem est crimen, sacerdotem esse et rite nosse atque scire atque callere leges cerimoniarum, fas sacrorum, ius religionum, si quidem magia id est quod Plato interpretatur, cum commemorat, quibusnam disciplinis puerum regno adulescentem Persae imbuant.”21

You see, the court is altogether mistaken: a magician isn’t even a magical being, it is simply a misunderstood word for priest, and what crime is there in priesthood? Sounds to me like the prosecutors themselves have a court case in their future for religious discrimination and libel!

This is a common misunderstanding and the court has repeatedly raised charges against philosophers because they have an outlandish and obvious bias against philosophers! Those philosophers who study the natural world are condemned as irreligious. The others who take interest in the divine are slandered as magicians:

“Truly by a common and general error of ignorant men, they lay these charges against philosophers, as they think that some of those [philosophers] who examine the pure and simple causes of substances are irreligious and for that reason they say that they deny the gods […] On the other hand, those [philosophers] who carefully investigate the divine foresight of the world and eagerly celebrate the gods, they publicly call magicians as if they also know how to do anything which they know to be done.”

“verum haec ferme communi quodam errore imperitorum philosophis obiectantur, ut partim eorum qui corporum causas meras et simplicis rimantur irreligiosos putent eoque aiant deos abnuere […] partim autem, qui providentiam mundi curiosius vestigant et impensius deos celebrant, eos vero vulgo magos nominent, quasi facere etiam sciant quae sciant fieri.”22

Apuleius lists Anaxagoras, Leucippus, Democritus, Epicurus, and other “natural philosophers” (ceterosque rerum naturae patronos) in the former category, and Epimenides, Orpheus, Pythagoras, Ostanes, Empedocles, Socrates’ daemon, and Plato’s Good in the latter category.23 The real issue, then, is a bias against philosophers and accusations of magic is just one form of discrimination hurled at the noble work of those interested in investigating the truth. You would think a court cares about the truth, but alas, it does not seem so and therefore we shouldn’t give credence to their accusations.

Apuleius continues to defend specific charges of magic associated with his philosophic work such as: his excessive purchasing of fish, the marriage to his wife Pudentilla, and instances of a boy falling down in his presence. The latter is the easiest to disprove. The boy is an epileptic and he was having seizures, things which the prosecution themselves know (nam caducum esse puerum nec tu audebis negare). Apuleius, showing off his intelligence, reminds the jury that he wouldn’t need magic to cause an epileptic to seize when he could simply use the mineral asphaltite (gagates lapis), which is known to the natural philosophers (physicos) to cause epileptic fits (hunc morbum exploret, “tests this disease”).24

As for the attacks on his marriage, Apuleius swears to the jury that he married Pudentilla out of devotion and not want of money (susceptum officii gratia quam lucri causa docebo).25 The main reason why the prosecution claims that Apuleius uses magic to convince Pudentilla to marry him is because she allegedly never mentioned wanting to remarry until Apuleius entered the picture and bewitched her (priusquam foret magicis maleficiis a me coacta).26 Apuleius has evidence of his own and reveals a letter Aemelianus wrote about Pudentilla stating that he she wanted to remarry (nubere illam velle et debere scio)!27 There is nothing to support the alleged use of magic on Pudentilla, for even the man accusing Apuleius himself has documented that he knew her desires for marriage.

The fish stuff is a bit more challenging to defend because the claims themselves are so odd. Apuleius is a little evasive in his explanation, and he even says at one point that “I neither want nor think it’s necessary to tell you,” (nolo equidem nec necessarium habeo tibi dicere).28 The defense of his strange fish purchasing habits extends for fifteen sections (27-42) of the Apologia. He asks the jury:

“But, I beg you, is he who acquires fish a magician? […] Do fish alone have something which is secret for others, but well known to magicians?”

“sed, oro te, qui pisces quaerit, magus est? […] an soli pisces habent aliquit occultum aliis, sed magis cognitum?”29

He then tells them that the way they describe his supposed fish-magic aligns not with the making of poison (venenum) as the poet Vergil describes in his Aeneid,30 but with the preparation of a meal (pulmentum)!31 What we learn is that Apuleius has purchased these rare and worthy fish (rara […] merito statuto praemio)32 for dissection (proscidisti)33 among other vague reasons.

Now, I personally think that this treatment of fish is a crime, but one of morality not magic. Apuleius understands the strangeness and hypocritical angle of the accusation himself. He points out to the jury that it is “a greater crime for a philosopher to eat a fish than to inspect it” (atqui maius crimen est philosopho comesse piscis quam inspicere).34 This is a reference to the famous Pythagorean philosophers and their abstinence from eating animals. Unless the jury concedes to his point and abstains from eating fish, then they truly have no ground to stake their claims. Either it is a crime for one type of murder (i.e. for dissection) and not the other (i.e. killing for consumption), or there are no special kinds of murder and they are all criminal. If the jury was smart, then they would have at least tried to make that sort of argument, but no, they didn’t anticipate the need because these are hardly accusations at all and are closer to petty gossip.

Fortunately, no one has accused me of any fishy business despite my not so infrequent habits of fish discourse. Only just the other week, I wrote a Latin elegiac couplet dedicated to shrimp as an epigraph for my post about ancient animal advocacy and abstinence from flesh. A month or so earlier, I shared my thoughts on the fish symbol, the Ichthys (ἰχθὐς), and the animal metaphors used to represent Jesus Christ. I am fully willing to acquiesce to the notion that I have an unusually close and caring relationship to animals—even small ones like fish—yet we all know this does nothing to show that I am a witch; I have never owned a cat in my life. Witches tend to have animal companions called “familiars,” yes, this is true. I myself do not have my own pet at the moment, so again, there is no need to assume my strong bond with animals is of a witchy nature. This bond is called empathy and it can be interspecies; I highly recommend it.

Much like in my own case, the prosecutors have no verifiable proof for any of their accusations against Apuleius. He knows this, too. Apuleius says to them:

“But if you had discovered such obvious proof of magic, why would you not summon me so that I may produce it? Could it be that you are able to shamelessly lie about things that are absent?”

“quodsi compertum habebatis tam evidens signum magiae, cur mihi ut exhiberem non denuntiastis? an ut possetis in rem absentem libere mentiri?”35

If there was evidence of Apuleius’ magic, then surely it could be presented in court. No such evidence exists, though. He invites the prosecution to come up with as many other lies as they’d like:

“I give you full permission: imagine, remember, invent anything that could be seen as magical—still, I would dispute it with you. […] There are a thousand other ways I could truly refute you in the common manner and with the most well-known practice of observation.”

“Tibi adeo permitto, finge quiduis, reminiscere, excogita, quod possit magicum videri: tamen de eo tecum decertarem. […] mille alia sunt quibus possem more communi et vulgatissima observationum consuetudine vere refutare.”36

For every inventive accusation thrown his way, Apuleius is confident that he can refute it with an even greater creative skill and artistry. He calls attention to how the argument functions, saying that “even if the work of magic is done, everything which someone has done will be thrown [as accusations]” (ut forte negotium magiae facessitur, quicquid omnino egerint obicietur).37 The prosecution’s approach to magical accusations is fallacious with circulatory reasoning: they are operating on an assumption that everything can support a charge of magic. If everything is magic, then how do we distinguish the magical from the non-magical? I fear this only leads to more confusion and allows magic to become a nebulous concept weaponized against one’s enemies. Apuleius is right to be dismissive toward such low-level reasoning.

It simply isn’t possible for the prosecution to investigate all the crevasses of someone’s life in search for evidence of magic. Apuleius describes how every single possession someone owns would need to be presented in court as evidence:

“In particular, whatever is concealed, sealed, or closeted and kept at home will be alleged as magical by all men with the very same argument or brought forth from the closet into the forum and the courtroom.”

“praesertim quod conditum cumque, quod obsignatum, quod inclusum domi adseruatur, id omne eodem argumento magicum dicetur aut e cella promptaria in forum atque in iudicium proferetur.”38

There is not enough time in the day to do any such search (dies me deficiet, si omnia velim persequi). The court is grasping at straws looking for anything that they can use to justify their incendiary charges: the evidence does not exist. Apuleius is not a magician nor has he ever performed magic.

What Apuleius admits to is the participation in religious ceremonies for one of the secret cults in Ancient Greece.39

“I participated in most commencements of sacred rites in Greece, of which I carefully preserve certain tokens and mementos given to me by the priests. I say nothing unusual, nothing unknown.”

“Sacrorum pleraque initia in Graecia participavi. eorum quaedam signa et monumenta tradita mihi a sacerdotibus sedulo conservo. nihil insolitum, nihil incognitum dico.”40

This is a degree of honesty on Apuleius’ part that the prosecution could never fathom. Apuleius is open about his attendance at these sacred rites and the fact that he kept little souvenirs for himself. He is not hiding anything from anyone: these are things known to the public. What this does reveal is how his accusers are distorting the truth—and the truth about things which are public knowledge! This makes the prosecution less trustworthy. If they are willing to lie about public information, then what other ways have they tried to deceive the jury? The primary evidence presented is that Apuleius is the more trustworthy one of the two parties.

The dishonesty of the prosecution is the real crime of this trial. We can sympathize with those who confuse poetry with love potions, dissection with dark magic, and medical issues with curses. The prosecution has no such people on its side: they are fully aware that their accusations are slanderous lies against Apuleius. Through their petty vendetta, they furthered preposterous rumors and showed a complete disregard for the truth. Philosophy and magic are not interchangeable. Apuleius is no magician, he is merely a Platonist philosopher.

I cannot help it if ignorant people mistake my philosophical interests and dead language endeavors as witchcraft. Speaking or writing in Latin brings me joy and is part of a pedagogical practice, nothing more. The deck of tarot cards by my bedside is used the way one would flip a coin. My astrological studies are because I find value in learning the system outside of questions about its validity. I have a background in the quadrivium, and astrology was the highest discipline in the medieval university; knowledge of the celestial bodies was of the utmost importance for my dear ancient philosophers and having the same knowledge helps me better understand their works. I hope that this post clears up some of the confusion. If it has not, then at the very least we have explored the history of such an error and have seen how accusations of magic are generally made without proof and with a desire to slander the accused. Maybe now I can brew tea and light candles in peace, and if not, then like Apuleius I can come up with a thousand other ways to dismiss any further witch allegations.

Enjoy the upcoming Halloween weekend!