The Anatomy of Melancholy

The pagan gods, he says, were driven out by Constantine, and with them “the majesty and good fortune of the Roman Empire perished and were overthrown”: the empire’s fortune and majesty declined and disappeared. Similarly, the pagan in Minucius had earlier boasted that, when the Romans conquered the Jews, the Jews’ god was also taken captive by Rome’s; and Rabshakeh told the Israelites that no god would deliver them from the Assyrians’ hands.

But these paradoxical claims about their power, bodily existence, mortality, assumption of shapes, transportation of bodies and sexual intercourse are adequately refuted by Zanchi, book 4, chapter 10; Pererius in his commentary and Tostatus in his questions on Genesis 6; Thomas Aquinas; Saint Augustine; Weyer; Thomas Erastus; Del Rio, volume 2, book 2, question 29; Sébastien Michaëlis, chapter 2 of On Spirits; and Dr Rainolds, lecture 47.

They may deceive people’s eyes, but cannot assume real bodies or bring about an actual transformation. As Cicogna demonstrates at length in book 4, chapter 4 of his All Kinds of Magic, these are “illusory and deceptive transformations,” mere illusions and tricks, like the story in the Suda of Pases’ coin, or that of Autolycus, Mercury’s son, who lived on Parnassus and acquired so much wealth by fraud and theft.

Since his father Mercury could leave him no money, he taught him many clever tricks for making a living: he could drive people’s cattle away and, if anyone pursued him, change them into whatever shapes he pleased. In this way he made himself very rich: “By this trick he acquired an enormous haul.” No doubt this is as true as the rest;

yet Thomas Aquinas, Durand and others generally concede this much: spirits have understanding far beyond ours; they can make likely conjectures and foretell many things; they can cause and cure most diseases and deceive our senses; they are highly skilled in every art and science; and even the least learned devil is “more knowledgeable than any human,” as Cicogna maintains on the authority of others.

They know the properties of herbs, plants, stones, minerals and so on, of every creature, birds, beasts, the four elements, stars and planets. They can apply and use them skilfully as they see fit, understanding the causes of all atmospheric phenomena and the like.

“They lend themselves to colours,” as Augustine puts it, “adapt themselves to shapes, attach themselves to sounds, place themselves beneath smells, pour themselves into flavours: demons deceive all the senses, even the understanding itself.” They deceive all our senses, even our understanding, at the same time.

They can bring about miraculous changes in the air and extraordinary effects, defeat armies, grant victories, help, advance, harm, frustrate and alter human undertakings and plans—with God’s permission—as they themselves see fit. When Charlemagne proposed to dig a canal between the Rhine and the Danube, these spirits knocked down at night whatever his workers had done during the day: “They succeeded in making the king abandon the attempt.” Such feats they can perform.