François Vatable, so much more than a ‘name’.
this is the text of the essay I published in BHR
Tome LXXIII – 2011 – no 3, pp. 557-591.
for the text without notes but with some illustrations,
click here
François Vatable (appointed in 1530 as
royal lecturer of Hebrew in Paris) is mainly, if not exclusively, remembered for
his collaboration with Robert Estienne in the production of the famous 1545
Latin Bible in which the old Bible translation (Vulgate) and a new one directly
translated from the Hebrew are printed side-by-side. The ensemble is accompanied
by annotations which – according to Estienne in his preface – were based on,
among others, student notes (reportationes) taken at the public lectures
(praelectiones) of François Vatable.[1]
These notes (glossa, annotationes) therefore became known as the ‘Vatable
notes’ (notes de Vatable) and the Bible edition itself as the ‘Vatable
Bible’ (Bible de Vatable). The content of some of these notes led to an
escalation of the already existing tensions between the printer, Robert
Estienne, and the Paris theologians. When it came to open polemics and censure,
the supposed author, François Vatable, had already died (16 March 1547).[2]
An intriguing aspect of these notes is
that almost everything about them is uncertain, even their proper identification
poses difficulties: ‘which notes are we talking about?’: the notes in the 1545
Paris Bible or the notes in the 1557 Geneva Bible, both printed by Robert
Estienne and both often simply referred to as Vatable’s.[3]
Nevertheless these notes are not identical: in 1557 they are more extensive
(sometimes more technical, sometimes more preachy). Both sets of notes have
originated a text-tradition of their own. The 1557 notes were often reprinted in
protestant Bible editions, and – in the 17th century – included in
Critici Sacri (an immensely popular multi-volume compendium of scholarly
biblical knowledge from the past). The 1545 Bible became the object of an
inquisitorial tug of war in Spain. It was censored, resulting in a 22 column
list of corrections to be implemented. As such it was published by André de
Portonariis (1555) and banned again, then reedited by three theologians of
Salamanca (a.o. Luys de León) and finally printed by André’s brother, Gaspard de
Portonariis, authorized in 1573, published in 1584. On the title page the
glosses are advertised as being Vatable’s.[4]
In Bible editions and secondary literature based on both text traditions the
glosses are generally introduced with phrases like ‘Vatablus vertit’ or ‘ut
interpretatur Vatablus’,[5]
surprisingly concerning both Old and New Testament notes, although not even
Estienne ever claimed that Vatable, professor of Hebrew, was also the editor of
the New Testament notes. The custom indiscriminatingly to refer to either the
1545, 1567 and 1584 Bible (and its descendents) as the ‘Vatable Bible’ and to
all notes therein as the ‘Vatable notes’ persists until today.
The aim of this article is to shed some
light on this question, but only indirectly. In my opinion too much energy has
been spent on a subquestion: whether or not these notes are Vatable’s, and even
to a sub-subquestion: whether or not they contain ‘heresy’. This debate dates
back to the 16th century (beginning with the censorship of the Paris
theologians in 1547/8) and is seriously contaminated by the propaganda from both
sides. The main victim in this debate is not Robert Estienne and his Bible (he
has defended himself vigorously and his Bible editions were a success) but the
person and work of François Vatable who is so much more than a ‘name’ associated
with ‘biblical annotations’ in one particular Bible edition. He was one of the
most eminent scholars of the early sixteenth century and deserves to be met
without a direct reference to the Estienne Bible and the notes that carry his
name. Even more: the notes should not serve to establish his theological view
(heterodox/orthodox), but should be used – if possible – to shed light on his
Hebrew scholarship. Therefore I propose to – temporarily – put the question
about the notes to one side
and only address it in due course, i.e., when the
story of Vatable’s life and work can benefit from their treatment.
Chronology of Vatable’s early life and studies.
François Vatable was born in Gamaches
(Picardy) as François Wattebled,[6]
year/date of birth unknown, but probably in the last decade of the 15th Century.
He was a son of Jean Wattebled and Péronne Le Fèvre. In his will two sisters
(Jeanne and Antoinette) and a number of nieces are mentioned, no brothers.[7]
An old and persistent tradition claims that he was a priest in a little town in
the Valois, Brumetz, before he enrolled as student at the Faculty of Arts in
Paris. This can’t be true because – as we will see below – he was still very
young when he arrived in Paris. What is true, however, is that in his later days
the curacy of Brumetz was used to provide his income as royal lecturer.[8]
The first certified fact about Vatable’s life is an entry in the 1511 Registers
of the University of Paris which mentions that he applied for a benefice in
Amiens. In the application he is referred to as Master of Arts.[9]
To get a Master’s degree five years of preparatory studies were required. This
implies that the young François must have arrived in Paris around 1506.[10]
From 1511 onwards his name appears in books and other documents, which provides
us with the possibility to construct a provisory and tentative chronology about
his life as a lector (licentia docendi) at the Faculty of Arts and his
early career. An overview:
- In 1511 Girard Roussel[11]
mentions Vatable in a preface to a publication of works on Aristotelian
logic (Logices adminicula). He is introduced as a collaborator and
friend who is still an ‘adulescens’. In the same book a second preface,
signed ‘Franciscus Vatablus Gamachianus’, is printed on f° 26v.[12]
The book in question was meant for students at the Paris Faculty of Arts,
where philosophy was an important part of the curriculum: a textbook.
- In 1512 we find Vatable among the
students of Girolamo Aleandro, the Italian scholar, who taught the French to
read and write Greek and was the rector of the University of Paris for a
three-month term in 1512 (in his later years he made a career as papal
nuncio confronting Luther in Germany). On his behalf, François Vatable
completed the edition of the Greek grammar of Chrysoloras, which he was
editing for publication when he fell ill. This edition is the first in which
the revolutionary new Greek characters, typecast by Gilles de Gourmont, were
used.[13]
Not bad for a young man: Vatable was a
rising star in academic circles – department philosophy – in Paris in the early
1510s. The production of new Latin translations of Greek philosophical treatises
was typical for the humanist movement in those days. Scholarly, pedagogically
and spiritually the Faculty of Arts was strongly influenced by Lefèvre
d’Etaples, one of its leading professors. Apparently: languages were Vatable’s
forte: Greek for the moment, not Hebrew, although Aleandro was well versed in
that language too. Graduated in or before 1511, he must still have been quite
young, since a reference to his youth is always present when he is referred to.
Roussel calls him an ‘adulescens’ (the same term he used to address the students
in his preface), and two years later, 1513, Charles Brachet, one of Aleandro’s
most brilliant students, refers to his friend Vatable also as a ‘iuvenis’
(preface to his translation from Greek into Latin of three Dialogues of
Lucianus[14]).
Calling someone a ‘iuvenis’ in 1513, implies that by then Vatable could not be
much older than 18. We can not but conclude that François must have been a
precocious boy. Calculating backwards we propose – tentatively – the following
dates: born ca. 1495 in Gamaches (Picardy), arrival in Paris ca. 1506 (still a
boy), graduating as M.A. in or prior to 1511, quite young but not impossible.[15]
In the meantime his talent for languages and philosophy was discovered and his
academic career is launched. In 1513 he would be still young enough to be called
a ‘iuvenis’ (18 years of age) by someone who himself was certainly not much
older, but also old enough to supervise the edition of books on behalf of
renowned scholars like Roussel and Aleandro. The way he addresses the supposed
readers in his preface is telling: he clearly is not one of them anymore.[16]
The image that appears is that of a young, dynamic post-graduate member of the
Faculty of Arts in Paris, active at the Collège du Cardinal Lemoine, first as a
student and now teaching there himself.[17]
This image is confirmed by the next step
in his career. After having perfected his knowledge of the Greek tongue under
the tutelage of Aleandro, he moves to Avignon to study Hebrew.[18]
The time when one could only become a Hebraist as an autodidact was past.
Published grammars and dictionaries were not yet flooding the market and the
tri-lingual colleges had still to be founded. There were incidental almost
personal inititatives to promote the study of Hebrew. In Paris François Tissard
had lectured and had published a book containing the basics of Hebrew writing in
1508, and in 1514 the already mentioned Aleandro published a Greek and Hebrew
alphabet, but this apparently did not result in systematic teaching in this
language.[19]
In 1518-1522 Antonio Giustiniani, a famous scholar, both Hebraist and Arabist,
gave lectures on Hebrew in Paris at the King’s request.[20]
Vatable however did not wait until all these initiatives had been finalized, but
left Paris for Avignon to enhance his mastery of the Hebrew language in order to
make the ‘litterae Hebraeae’ as useful for Christians as the Latin and Greek
already were. He probably chose Avignon, because it was almost the only place in
France where Jewish communities were still allowed – be it with strict
regulations – to exist and participate in public life.[21]
When he returns from Avignon, now well versed in Latin, Greek ànd Hebrew, he
once again is found in the company of Lefèvre d’Etaples, who was still staying
in the prestigious Abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Prés, a guest of the abbot there:
Guillaume Briçonnet. This time, and on the explicit request of his ‘Master and
Maecenas’ Lefèvre d’Etaples,[22]
Vatable embarks on the revision and translation (from the Greek) of a number of
important philosophical treatises of Aristotle, thus taking up the thread as
scholarly editor. He revises the old medieval Latin translations, edits
available up-to-date translations (Argyropoulos), and if no modern translation
available, he provides one based on available Greek manuscripts and the famous
Aldus-edition. This voluminous book (336 folios) contains the old and the new
translation side by side (the old though in a larger type), with summarising
introductions and marginal notes. It appeared in print in 1518 with Henri
Estienne.[23]
The texts in question, Physica, De caelo, De anima, De generatione et
corruptione, and the so called Parva naturalia are all works from
Aristotle, “the Philosopher” as he was then called, dealing with the world we
live in; inquiries in physics, human and animal nature, psychology, astronomy,
and meteorology.
This book is one of the several
substantial contributions of Lefèvre’s scholarly team which was devoted to
restoring the works of Aristotle in their original splendour by republishing
them from trustworthy sources in an up-to-date Latin translation. Next to
Lefèvre himself (mainly paraphrasing commentaries) the main participants were
Josse Clichtove, Charles de Bouvelles, and Girard Roussel. The effort was spread
over three decades (1490-1522). A similar project concerning the patristic
writings was effected parallel to it and in the second half of the 1510s
(including publication of mystical writers, like Ruusbroec) a third project
began to absorb their energy even more. This was the restoration of biblical
texts, Lefèvre’s fivefold Psalter (Quincuplex Psalterium, 1509) being the
forerunner. By means of fluent Latin translations (imported from Italy or
self-made), commentaries, introductions and paraphrases, these scholars tried to
recover and highlight the true value of these ancient works. They were working
on a linguistic level – new translation into Latin following the rules of Latin
syntax, grammar and idiom, rejecting the medieval way (almost verbally
Latinising the Greek), because it was not acceptable anymore to the Latinists of
the Renaissance and because it really obstructed the reading and understanding
of the texts.[24]
Lefèvre d’Etaples, Girard Roussel and Josse Clichtove are often only mentioned
in theological contexts (pro or contra Luther/Calvin, or something in between
etc.). This not only wrongly neglects their multifaceted personalities, it also
obscures the embedment of the theological issues in a much wider cultural
debate. At the same time, it simply misrepresents the way these scholars were
perceived and appreciated in their own days.[25]
Among these works, Vatable’s new translations of De generatione et
corruptione, Meteorologica, and the parva naturalia, was the most
successful and had the most long-lasting effects. Here, to illustrate what
Vatable did – under the aegis of Lefèvre d’Etaples– a list of the works he
edited and translated:
Editor
(1511) - Boethius’ translations of Aristotle’s works on
Logic, incl. Porphyry’s Introduction to Aristotle’s Categoriae
- Barbarao’s translation of Themistius’s paraphrase of
Aristotle’s Analytica posterioria
(1512) -
Ερωτηματα
του Χρυσολωρα
Grammatica Chrysolorae (on behalf of Aleandro)[26]
(1528) - Totius Philosophiae Naturalis Paraphrases (sc.
Lefèvre d’Etaples)[27]
Aristotle: from his works on physical reality
a. Editor of a vetus et nova tralatio (Argyropoulos) of
Aristotle
(1518) - Physica (the study of nature: incl. change, motion, void, time)
- De Caelo (structure of heaven, earth, the elements)
- De Anima (the different ‘souls’, degrees of life,
faculties, senses, mind)
b. Editor of a vetus tralatio and provider of a nova tralatio from
the Greek
(1518) - De Generatione et Corruptione (origin of existence, duration and decay)
- Meteorologica (about comets, weather, natural disasters)
[28]
- Parva Naturalia
- De Sensu et Sensilu[29]
(senses)
- De Memoria et Reminiscentia (memory, reminiscence)
- De Somno et Vigilia (sleep)
- De Insomniis (dreams)
- De Divinatione per Somnum (prophesy, divinaton)
- De Longitudine et Brevitate Vitae (shortness and length of
life)
- De Juventute et Senectute, De Vita et Morte, De
Respiratione (Youth, Old Age, Life and Death)[30]
His translations were reprinted many
times and separate editions of them (in small booklets for students) were used
to teach philosophy, not only in Paris, but also in Lyon, and soon also outside
France.[31]
All his translations were included in Aristotle’s Opera omnia edition
which appeared in Frankfurt in 1593.[32]
They were also part of the 1831 Aristoteles Latine.[33]
So, we conclude, before he became the Regius Professor of Hebrew,
François Vatable was known as an able translator, editor and annotator of
philosophical texts, specialist in the Greek tongue and expert in Aristotle’s
natural philosophy.
The Cercle de Meaux
Vatable’s 1518 edition and (partial) new
translation of Aristotle’s parva naturalia and related texts was
dedicated to Guillaume Briçonnet, Bishop of Meaux, who – in 1517 – had started a
programme of reform in his diocese by visiting the parishes and organizing a
synod. He also tried to improve the training of his clergy and monastic
discipline. Another element of his reform was the implementation of a new style
of preaching.[34]
To this end Briçonnet asked Lefèvre d’Etaples to come over and help him. With
him came part of his circle of learned men, who were also clergymen, among them
Martial Mazurier, Gérard Roussel, Michel d’Arande, Guillaume Farel, Pierre
Caroli and François Vatable.[35]
Next to ecclesiastic reform (implementing already existing regulations based on
the authority exercised by a resident and visiting bishop) the emphasis on the
study of the Bible and the teaching of basic doctrine to everyone in the
vernacular, was the core and kernel of Briçonnet’s initiative. Vatable,
apparently still closely connected with Lefèvre d’Etaples, simply followed his
mentor. In 1521 he is appointed priest in the diocese of Meaux, first in
Saint-Germain-sous-Couilly, then in Quincy and finally he becomes a canon, a
member of the chapter of the Cathedral of Saint-Estienne in Meaux. The bishop
grants him a license to preach. Considering that this was an essential part of
the reform program it can be assumed that he did it, although no mention of this
activity is ever made (in contrast to other preachers). More obvious though, but
often overlooked, is another kind of contribution.[36]
Parallel with the activity in the field (preaching, visiting), the printing
press was put in overdrive, not so much to publish Artistotle,[37]
or patristic or mystic literature, but elementary biblical material, both the
Bible text (first in parts, eventually resulting in the first entire Bible in
French - 1530) and catechetical and homiletical material, practical, immediately
useful, like Luther’s Postillen, to facilitate the reformation process.
[38] What is more obvious than to assume that
Vatable, not only a Graecist but now also a Hebraist, was involved in the
translation activities, especially when the Old Testament was concerned? We can
go a step further: Lefèvre was a Latinist and a Graecist, but in matters
concerning Hebrew he only had a very basic knowledge and relied completely on
others to provide him with information.[39]
The simple fact that in the scholarly edition of the Latin Psalter of 1524,
extensive use is suddenly made of Jewish sources, carefully introduced and
explained in the introduction, betrays the hand of a biblical scholar with
intimate knowledge of the Hebrew text, the Jewish exegesis (Midrash) and
rabbinical commentaries.[40]
In this edition the text of the Psalterium Gallicanum (‘Vulgate’) is
printed with alternative readings in relevant places. The Hebraicum is
not that of Jerome any longer (as it still was in the Quincuplex), but is
replaced by a the translation of Felice de Prato (Felix Pratensis) straight from
the Hebrew.[41]
Occasionally, a reading from a Chaldaicum (= Targum) is provided to help
understanding. In Meaux there is only one person who had the required mastery of
Hebrew to do this: François Vatable. His name is not mentioned, but this is not
much of a surprise: the watching eye of the Theologians in Paris had already
forced the circle of Lefèvre to hide their own and collective works behind
anonymity. Gradually, the pressure from the conservative party in Paris became
unsustainable, esp. since the King himself was in captivity in Madrid and his
sister (the sponsor, protector and inspiration of the evangelicals[42])
had also left the country to negotiate the release of her brother. In 1525 the
experiment collapsed. Briçonnet was summoned to appear before the Parlement,
Lefèvre and Roussel fled to Strasbourg. Vatable seems to have left the group
before the final blow was delivered. On 8 July 1524 he exchanged his canonry in
Meaux cathedral for the rectory of Suresnes (diocese of Paris), retaining this
benefice until his death.[43]
The other participants (mainly Arande, Roussel, Mazurier, Caroli) were never
able to continue their life and work in France without being watched or attacked
by the conservative party of Paris theologians. Without the protection of the
Court the end of the ‘Meaux circle’ would have been even more fatal. Vatable’s
participation in the experiment of Guillaume Briçonnet apparently did not harm
his career. His ‘orthodoxy’ was not doubted and his name never appears in the
proceedings of the Faculty of Theology that are edited for the years 1524—1550.[44]
So we can assume that he returned to Paris and resumed (or continued?) his
activities in the bosom of the faculty of Arts. What is certain is that he
fulfilled his promise, made in 1518, to procure a new edition of Lefèvre’s
paraphrases on Artistotle’s Physics. It appeared in print in 1528,
published by Simon de Colines.[45]
The facts about the remainder of his
career are well known. In 1530 François I-er finally decided to provide the
funds for lecturers in Greek (Jacques Toussain, Pierre Danès) and Hebrew (Agazio
Guidacerio, François Vatable). A few month later a lecturer in Mathematics was
also appointed (Oronce Finé) and in 1531 even a third Hebrew lecturer: a
converted (or apostate) Jew, Paul Paradis.[46]
The Faculty of Theology looked at this project with Argus’ eyes, quite
understandable since things associated with the Bible were no neutral issues
anymore in 1530. Lectio implies reading, translating and explaining the
meaning (sensus). And exactly that has always been the prerogative of the
Faculty of Theology. Apparently the leading theologians wanted to set things
straight right from the start by condemning two theses concerning the necessity
of knowledge of the original tongues to be able to properly interpret the Bible.
They made clear that the authority on interpretation of the Bible resided
exclusively with the Faculty of Theology, with or without knowledge of the
original tongues. So reading the Bible is alright, textual criticism of the
Vulgate allowed (although close), but questioning the Truth based on the Vulgate
was absolutely forbidden.[47]
That would be trespassing into their domain. Within these boundaries there seems
to have been much less animosity in everyday college life between royal
lecturers and ‘normal’ lecturers, than is (was?) often supposed. Tendentious
statements, both contemporaneous and retrospective are not necessarily impartial
descriptions of matters of fact. Of course there was animosity, distrust and
competition, but that does not imply that this struggle should be sketched as a
heroic battle of the enlightened elite (the good guys) against a retarded
integrist party (bad guys). Life is too complex to be interpreted along such
simple lines.[48]
More interesting to us is that Vatable’s
name is mentioned in this context, but that the content of his lessons is never
attacked. For everyone his personal integrity and good Christian Faith appeared
to have been beyond doubt.[49]
For his contemporaries he is the scholar who had written textbooks for the
courses in Philosophy used time and again in the official curriculum of the
Faculty of Arts. As well as an expert in Aristotle’s physics, he is also an
uncontested authority in matters concerning languages: Latin, Greek and Hebrew
(both biblical and rabbinical Hebrew). He did not advertise his own thoughts nor
publish his own lectures. He did not even publish a Hebrew grammar like many of
his colleagues. Nevertheless it is incorrect to say that he did not leave a
heritage outside his pupils (and their lecture notes, the reportationes)
as is often said.[50]
This is an optical illusion. Vatable did publish, but – and here we find a
continuum in his life – not thoughts or texts of his own, but texts of others.
Just as he had done with Aristotle (editing, emending existing translations by
referring to the original texts, and – if necessary – making new translations)
he now did with the Bible. From his work on Aristotle he was acquainted with the
printing house of Henri Estienne. The interest of his successor, Robert
Estienne, in Bible printing is well known. Estienne not only retrospectively
claims this as his main occupation in his defense ‘why he left Paris for Geneva’
(Les censures…, 1552), but it is also apparent if one looks at the
impressive output of Bibles (partial editions and complete ones) from his
printing shop.[51]
Robert Estienne was one of last students of Lefèvre d’Etaples. They must even
have cooperated while Simon de Colines published Lefèvre’s edition of the Latin
Bible (1522-1523): at that time Robert was working in Colines printing shop.
When Lefèvre stopped editing and printing (1526, when he became tutor of the
King’s children in Blois, before retiring to Nérac in 1531 with Marguerite de
Navarre) it is Estienne who continues editing and printing Latin Bibles, thus
prolonging the effort of Lefèvre to revive the interest in the Bible as the
texte fondateur of Christendom, focusing on providing a trustworthy edition
of the original texts.[52]
Estienne’s first project was a text critical edition of the Vulgate (1527-8,
continued and perfected in 1532, 1534, 1540, 1546), in which he collated ancient
manuscripts of the Bible text (i.e. the Latin text of the Vulgate) with a
‘standard’ version, using symbols to indicate different readings in manuscripts
he had found in several libraries inside and outside Paris.[53]
One of the facts he immediately will have realized is the enormous complexity of
this matter. Many issues are intertwined: 1. The Vulgate is not the original
text but a translation. 2. The text of the Vulgate is not ‘stable’, i.e.
different readings exist. 3. The translation in use is not perfect. And, last
but not least, since the Protestants used these elements to attack the
foundations of the Roman Catholic Church, it is not at all surprising, that the
Faculty of Theology followed his exploits with great attention. The fact that
Estienne did not venture into the field of publishing Bible translations into
the vernacular, secured him some peace, together with the fact that he was ‘The
King’s printer’. And as long as he kept confirming the authority of the Vulgate,
only striving to emend that text, he did nothing wrong. A new era began when he
was appointed ‘Imprimeur & libraire ès lettres Hebraiques & Latines’ to the King
in 1539, even more associating him with the Royal Lecturers.[54]
It is no accident that exactly at that time he began a series of Hebrew Bibles
in-quarto (Biblia mediocri forma, in his own catalogue of 1546)[55],
appearing from 1539-1544, in which almost every book of the Bible has a title
page of its own (bilingual: Hebrew and Latin), while the rest of the book is
printed entirely in Hebrew characters. The books were meant to be sold
separately, perhaps also a commercial move; testing the market before flooding
it. The Bible text is the authorative text (massoretic) as published in the
second rabbinical Bible (Jacob ben Chaijim). Most conspicuous though is the
edition of the 12 Minor Prophets. They are printed separately supplemented by
the commentary of David Kimhi (printed in round Hebrew characters, the so called
Rashi type), while the massoretic text is printed in square Hebrew type. Only
these 12 booklets reveal the identity of the compiler/editor: François Vatable,
the rest is anonymous. Together with the name of the King and the printer
Vatable’s name appears on the title pages, both in Latin and in Hebrew (Rashi
type). The chronology of the publication makes clear that these individual
prints of the Minor Prophets were the first that were published. They appeared
sequentially between 1539 and 1540.[56]
So, from 1539 onwards an intense cooperation between Robert Estienne and
François Vatable can not only be assumed, but is a fact, the latter – because of
his scholarship in Hebrew – de facto being the editor in charge of this series.[57]
This cooperation is further confirmed by the inclusion of a number of
illustrations in Estienne’s 1540 Bible in the books of Exodus and 1 Kings (Regum
III) concerning the Tabernacle and the Temple. Both general views and details of
all kinds of objects are provided and explained. They are no products of an
artist’s imagination, but carefully drawn representations based on the
indications about measures and material in the Bible self, as is explained
systematically below the pictures. The title page and preface proudly announce
that they are made on the explicit instruction of François Vatable himself.[58]
And this is not all; in 1541 Estienne publishes a separate edition of the
Pentateuch: Libri Moysi quinque… Cum annotationibus, & observationibus
Hebraicis...[59]
His own textual notes are in the margin of the text, and new scholarly
annotations are printed below the text in separate notes. In the preface he
explains where these notes come from: the royal lecturers. After having
suggested that the initiative of King Francis to institute chairs for professors
in the Hebrew language was directly inspired by God himself, he explains that he
felt it his duty to let as many readers as possible profit from their insights;
and this is how he got them:
“All I have
done is to ensure that some of the material collected by hearers of the Royal
lecturers should by favour of our typographical art reach those of you who by
distance or other obstacles are prevented from hearing them. And to these notes
I have added the readings different from the current printed editions, which I
took from ancient and correct manuscripts.”
We notice that it is not Vatable alone
whom Estienne credits for this notes. In this phrase he also implies Guidaceri
and Paradis. This is important since these notes, “quasi in extenso”, are
the same as the notes on the Pentateuch in the Vatable bible of 1545.[60]
Perhaps Vatable is credited with too much. Nevertheless, in tempore non
suspecto these notes on the first five books of the Bible are what they are
said to be: the fruits of the institution of the Royal readership in Hebrew, now
available for everyone who can read Latin. As already mentioned Vatable’s labour
on the minor prophets and David Kimhi’s commentary was already published around
1540: Apparently these books met with considerable success in the academic
world, since a series of reprints of this Hebrew bible (this time in pocket size
– enchiridii forma) appeared from 1543-1546 (13 parts), destined for
students to buy and make notes while the professor lectured on these topics. The
King must have been pleased with the work done by Vatable, for in 1544 he
arranged that Vatable – honoris causa – could remain a bursarius at the
collège du Cardinal Lemonier (although according to the statutes he should have
left).[61]
His testament informs us that he had a house of his own (in the faubourg Saint
Victor, rue Neuve, which he left to his mother), but that he really lived in the
college with the ‘Maitres et les confreres boursiers’.[62]
In 1543 the same King named Vatable commendatory abbot of the Abbey of Bellozane
(in the diocese of Rouen), a title and income he kept until his death on 16
March 1547. Jacques Amyot, professor of Greek at Bourges, inherited the benefice
of this abbey. When he in his turn was appointed Bishop of Auxerre, the benefice
was given to Pierre Ronsard.[63]
The quality of his work was not only
appreciated by the King, Robert Estienne and his contemporaries: taken together
this is the first Hebrew Bible, printed in France. Modern scholarship has
compared this edition with its predecessors, the Rabbinical Bible of Bomberg
(Venice), which also aimed at a Jewish public and the Polyglot Bible of Alcala
which is clearly Christian in its ambit, and concluded that the Estienne
editions have a particularity. The vocalization is independent from Alcala,
there are cantilation marks; even the reversed ‘nun’ appears and the distinction
between open and closed paragraphs are present, both typical for the massoretic
tradition. Concerning the ‘qetib-qere’ they are generally signalled using a
special sign (°) while the ‘qetib’ is vocalized according to the ‘qere’, however
without the ‘qere’ printed in the margin.[64]
Most particular for this Bible, and exclusively Vatable, is the publication of
Kimhi’s commentary on the minor prophets. The way these texts are edited betrays
the influence of Jewish publications dating back to the time before the
rabbinical Bibles appeared. Kimhi’s commentary (in Rashi-Hebrew) is placed below
the units of the Bible text to which it refers. The marginal references to the
Bible text are very precise. This edition makes clear that the editor himself
had found the commentary of Kimhi very useful for studying the Bible. Finally,
compared with the impressive polyglot of Plantin (Antwerp, 1569-1572), edited by
Arias Montanus, the Estienne Bible, edited by Vatable (and his team) can
certainly stand the comparison.[65]
And now, only now, we reach the Vatable
bible of 1545. It is not so special anymore, nor exceptional. It is not the only
Bible edition in which Vatable was involved and the notes in this edition are
not as original as often perceived. As already mentioned: the notes in the
inside margin are Estienne’s (from his previous critical edition of the
Vulgate), the notes in the Pentateuch are simply copied from the Libri
quinque Moysi of 1541, and thus can be linked to Vatable, but not only to
him; the notes present in the Zurich Bible, from which the new translation from
the Hebrew is copied (without mentioning the source), are also used by Estienne,
not in the Pentateuch (no need), but in other books they were integrated in the
annotations.[66]
The extensive notes on the Psalms incorporate much material from Bucer’s
Commentary on the Psalms.[67]
The notes are generally succinct, philological, trying to explain the text to
the not-informed reader, that he may understand. This philological and
didactical exercise, which is carried on through the entire edition, makes the
1545 Estienne Bible indeed monumental and explains why these annotations were so
widely appreciated, and that their transmission was not even obstructed by the
gap between confessions.[68]
Approaching these notes as if they are
Vatable’s is attributing to Vatable too much and too little at the same time:
too much because they are not necessarily his, nor all his, and too little,
since he did so much more on this field. His participation in the scholarly
editions of the Old Testament, in which text-criticism (the establishment or
reconstitution of the original text) is so obvious, as is his fascination for
the rabbinical exegesis of David Kimhi, is far more relevant than what the notes
are or are not telling. Even more: The student notes are much richer than the –
necessarily – succinct notes in the Bible. They should not be read only to
compare with the notes in the 1545 Bible, but used as a window to look at
Vatable in action as the teacher of an entire generation of Hebrew scholars.[69]
Next to the printed annotations, nine reportationes from Vatable’s lectures are
preserved in the National Library of France (Paris). They originate from three
different students: Mathieu Gautier (mss lat 532, 533, 537, 538 et 540), Nicolas
Pithou (mss lat 88, 577, 581) and Girolamo della Rovere (ms lat 433, f° 1-52).[70]
Parts of Genesis, Exodus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Joshua, the books of
Samuel/Kings are covered by Gautier; parts of the books of Kings, Ezekiel 31-48
and the first six of the minor prophets by Pithou; the folios of Della Rovere
deal with the Psalms 1-16. They can – of course – be used to check the
authenticity of the notes de Vatable (with the exception of the student
notes on the Psalms, which postdate this publication),[71]
but that is only a minor use; first and foremost they can serve to get a clearer
picture of how Vatable lectured. To begin, however, with the minor issue (it is
a topic, it has to be addressed): a comparison of these reportationes with
the notes de Vatable in the 1545 Bible on the same biblical passages.
This has been done by several scholars, but not yet systematically. One of them,
Dominique Barthélémy discovered a fourth set of student notes: Bertin le
Comte’s. He apparently scribbled (or afterwards transcribed) his notes in the
margins and interlinear spaces of a 1528 Pagnini Bible, which Barthélémy was
able to find and identify in the Bibliothèque publique et universitaire de
Genève. Comparison of these notes with the notes from Gautier and Pithou (Book
of Kings) confirmed that these notes were also derived from lectures by Vatable,
i.e. they only differ as much as three different witnesses who report the same
event.[72]
The partial results have made clear ‘that the printed and written notes are
quite similar, but almost never identical’.[73]
This conclusion does corroborate the findings of our historical survey: there is
Vatable in it, but there are also things in it that are not Vatable’s. Also of
little importance, but more interesting, is the question: did Estienne abuse the
scholarly authority of Vatable by slipping in some of his own tendentious
thoughts? Barthélémy has tried to answer this question. He selected a number of
notes that were condemned by Spanish censors (and thus are suppressed in the
Vatable Bible of De Portonariis (1584/5) and compared them with the available
student notes.[74]
His analysis makes four things clear, all equally important:
- Estienne did not invent the
notes that rang a bell with the inquisitive minds of conservative
theologians, at least not all of them. To prove this one only needs to find
one example of a note labelled ‘heretical’, both in a reportatio and
in the 1545 Bible. The printed note on Hos. 2:19[75]
was censured, because ‘iustita’ was explained: as “…per fidem qua
iustificantur homines”. The student notes are at least as explicit. Thus
Vatable apparently did not hesitate in commenting on this text to underline
the importance of faith in the process of justification.
- On occasion Estienne made Vatable
sound more protestant than he was by omitting balancing elements in
the notes that were condemned (Joel 2:32[76]:
Estienne printed: “id est. […] quisquis opem a Domino
expectarit, credens in Christum.”; Pithou: “Qui fuerint de ecclesia et
crediderint in Christum.”). The necessity of
belonging to the Church takes out the heresy, which can be read into the
note in which only faith (sola fide) is mentioned.
- Estienne made Vatable sound less
conservative than he was in not including plenty of comments in which
Vatable showed himself to be ‘a good orthodox Christian’, who is not only
aware of the importance of faith and grace, but also stresses the essential
role played by the Church in the process of salvation.[77]
Most of the Protestants also believe this, but will not stress it, because
their opponents always did. Where the student notes on Hos. 2,2 repeat over
and again that God gathers (Latin: “congregabuntur”) his people “in ecclesia
Christiana” [“ac catholica” – Bertin] and that Christ is rightly called the
“caput ecclesiae” because the relation between Christ and his Church
resembles that of a man and his wife (entirely following the metaphor of
Hosea), Estienne sticks to a sober summary avoiding the word ‘ecclesia’,
using only the low church term ‘fidelium congregatio’ and even suppresses
the entire note in the 1557 edition.
- Estienne also silenced
Vatable by simply suppressing observations made by Vatable during his
lessons, which contradicted protestant viewpoints. E.g., in explaining Ezek.
18,19 where the word ‘iustitia’ is crucial, Vatable informs his students
that good deeds are an essential element in the process of justification.
The student note (Bertin) on Ezek. 18,19 reads: “Iustitia… significat bona
opera quae scilicet ex fide profisciscuntur redduntque hominem iustum.” This
note de Vatable, which is theologically very interesting, since it
tries to keep together what theologians in those days were separating, is
not among the notes de Vatable in Estienne’s 1545 Bible.
Although the third and fourth
observation operate with what is not printed and thus are endangered by
argumentatio ex nihilo, they are to the point, especially since they are
corroborated by a lot of circumstantial evidence: Everyone who reads the
reportationes without the mind of an inquisitor (and everyone who reads the
marginal notes in the Estienne Bible not concentrating on the few that are
theologically charged), will notice that these notes are scholarly notes,
written by someone who is first and foremost a philologist, trained in and with
a passion for reading texts in their original tongues and as far as possible
explaining them from their original context (both linguistic and historical).
Barthélemy and Kessler-Mesguich[78]
agree in highlighting in these notes a true interest in the text itself:
deciphering words, grammar, syntax, idiomatic elements (like the typically
Hebrew modi and tempora of the verbs, as observed by Kessler),
always trying to resolve problems, explain obscure places in a way that suits
the text itself, looking for an text internal ‘rationale’.[79]
From my own reading of the reportatio on the Psalms, I can add that the
traditional (often christological) exegesis is presupposed and taken for
granted.[80]
In theological matters Vatable apparently remained a true disciple of Lefèvre
d’Etaples, whose idea of combining pietas and scholarship, philology and
theology, tradition and modernity, he seems to have interiorized, together with
his focus on Christ, as the true – literal – meaning of the entire Bible. As in
his work on Aristotle, Vatable wanted to improve the edition of texts, help with
understanding them properly, and keen on keeping in touch with tradition that
has gone before (tralatio nova et vetus), even when the errors and
shortcomings in the old translation are not covered up, building bridges rather
than destructing bonds.
Nevertheless, this was only the minor
issue concerning the student notes and the notes in the 1545 Bible. More
important is that they mirror Vatable’s teaching. Here he appears to have been
quite serene and very thorough at the same time: Following his lessons
provided the audience with a real introduction in and study of the Hebrew
text, trying to understand it ‘from the inside’, e mente auctoris, and –
and this I will try to show in the last part of this essay – fully aware that
the introduction of a Jewish ‘mentality’ was not without consequence for the
understanding of Scripture. My thesis is, that exactly because Vatable was so
meticulous in his linguistic approach, he must have felt that in the Hebrew
language a different worldview manifests itself. Because he lectured publicly,
and many of the students of the Theological Faculty attended his lessons, he
influenced the outlook on the Hebrew Bible of an entire generation, not only of
the Church in France (both ‘protestant’ and ‘roman catholic’, a term only
adequate since the Council of Trent (1564)). This explains the inclusion of
‘his’ notes in both protestant (from anglican to puritan) and roman catholic
biblical commentaries and compendia.
When I was trying to decipher the
student notes on the Psalms, one of the elements, that I found remarkable, even
admirable and advisable, is the way Vatable explained what kind of language
Hebrew is, showing time and again how to discern typically idiomatic elements
and how to treat them correctly. Although he did not publish a handbook, he
showed his students in his lectures ‘how it works’, by – as then was the habit –
reading the Bible text in Latin (in his own translation, not the Vulgate, not
Leo Jud, not Pagnini), and then verse by verse, sometimes word by word,
explaining the nuances, clarifying the difficulties, giving historical and
linguistic information if necessary. What is obscured in the printed notes, is
overtly visible in the student notes: He cited rabbis, mentioned their names
freely (mainly Ibn Ezra, and David Kimhi). As interlocutors they are present.
The targum is also called in if linguistic or textual puzzles have to be
resolved.[81]
This rabbinical element deserves extra attention, especially because it is this
element which is obscured by the later reception of the notes de Vatable, not
only because the names of the Jewish authorities were suppressed (already in the
printed Bible), but also because biblical interpretation became mainly a matter
of Christian theologians, and less of literary masters such as Vatable, who – as
we have seen – was no theologian: he was a man from the Faculty of Arts. I want
to give one example of the genius of Vatable. I shall focus on one verse, a
detail in the explanation of an idiomatic Hebrew expression present in Psalm
7,5.[82]
This is the concluding part of an oath, invoking in strong words, emphatically,
the punishment that may be inflicted on the man who prays (David according to
Vatable), if he is guilty. The translation is quite simple, all words are clear,
and once the syntax of the oath is discerned the general interpretation is also
clear, but the quite strong expressions used by David, remain puzzling. The
Hebrew wording is plastic, vivid:
Let the
enemy persecute my soul (nẹp̄ẹš/anima) and take it; yea, let him tread
down my life (ḥay/vita) upon the earth, and lay mine honour (kāvōd/gloria) in
the dust. (Ps. 7,5 – KJV)
The translations printed in the
Estienne Bible do not differ much:
|
Nova (Zurich) |
Vetus (Vulgata) |
|
…persequatur hostis animam meam,
et assequatur, et conculcet in terram vitam meam, et deducat gloriam
meam in pulverem. |
… persequatur inimicus animam
meam, et comprehendat, et conculcet in terra vitam meam, et gloriam meam
in pulverem deducat. |
The short note in the original edition
explains: “i.[id est] mori me faciat vel, ita extinguat, ut nulla mei memoria
sit apud superstites et posteros. Memoria iustorum non caret gloria apud
homines”. The longer note (diffusiores annotationes and Psalterium
duplex of 1546) adds to this phrase: “Hic gloria pro memoria sui posuit.”
Obviously the glossator felt an urge to
explain the last two expressions
-
Trampling one’s life into the earth
-
Laying one’s honour in the dust
He explains this metaphorically in a
very elegant way: these expressions are florid ways to say: they may kill me
(first expression) and even wipe out my memory with the next generations,
the added phrase explaining that ‘gloria’ just stands for ‘memoria’. This is,
however, not the way François Vatable tried to elucidate these expressions to
his students on a day early in 1546. It is the way Leo Jud (or Bibliander)
explained this verse with an addition from Bucer’s Commentary. The first part of
the note (as the previous notes in this Psalm) is derived from the Zurich Bible
(1543). The phrase is reformulated, the content is the same.[83]
The second part (about the most difficult phrase: “to put my honour in the
dust”) mirrors the explanation given by Martin Bucer in his famous Commentary on
the Psalms: this is about posterity forgetting your name. Your name = your glory
= your dignity, will be lost.[84]
Although quite satisfying, this is not –
according to François Vatable – what these Hebrew expressions really mean.
Although difficult to decipher I propose to hear his lesson, as recorded by
Girolamo Della Rovere, freely – and hopefully faithfully – paraphrasing his
notes.[85]
May my
enemy persecute my soul, or: let him act in this
way, that others persecute my soul, my soul, that is: me. My life may be
trampled into the earth. He means: “Trampled on the ground my life shall be
spoiled, my breath will go out of me, I will die”. Using the expression
“trampling my life” the poet uses what we call a ‘pregnant’ way of
speaking, in which the word ‘life’ really refers to the ‘body’. So
what he really says – not pregnantly but plainly – is: “By treading on my body,
I will be deprived of my life”. And he may make my glory… Concerning the
use of the term my glory it is important to understand that ‘his glory’
has no other domicile than ‘his body’. Even simpler: It is ‘his soul’ to which
he refers when he says ‘my glory’, i.e. that which excels the body. ... to
lie in the dust, dust being the same as the earth, this does certainly refer
to the grave: “so, when I am thrown to the earth and have died, let him then put
me in a grave, bury me.” There are some Hebrews who interpret this as referring
to body and soul. They are convinced that the soul of the wicked will perish
with his body. [You can also think of what we saw a few weeks ago in Psalm 1,
where it was said that ‘the wicked will not rise to judgment’.] This is of course
a heretical opinion.
Thus, having tentatively reconstructed
part of a lesson of Vatable, it is easy to see that in this case there is no
strong link between this interpretation and the annotation in the Vatable Bible.
Even more: the keywords of that interpretation: ‘memoria’, ‘praeterites’
‘posteros’ are absent; ‘gloria’ is not equated with ‘memoria’. More important
though is that we witnessed a true Hebrew exegesis in a lecture by a Christian
professor. All elements in this exegesis prove that Vatable really knew that
Hebrew was not only a different language with some odd idiomatic expressions,
which could be transferred into Latin, and then loose their alterity. In his
interpretation the basic anthropological difference between Christians and Jews
comes to light; The Jewish view has found a powerful expression in the Hebrew
language, in the idiomatic elements of it, mainly the meaning and use of words
like ‘nẹp̄ẹš’ and ‘kāvōd’, two almost untranslatable words. They are both
related to a basic difference between a Christian (Greek, Hellenist) worldview
and a Jewish (Hebrew) worldview. The Christian outlook is basically dualistic:
man as a temporary conglomerate of an eternal spiritual essence: his soul, which
is captured as long as he lives on this earth in a material mortal body. In
Vatable’s days this was still an almost un-reflected presupposition of
Christendom. Nevertheless this anthropology (wider: this worldview) is not
present in the Hebrew Bible.[86]
The meaning of the Hebrew word ‘nẹp̄ẹš’ (which is generally translated with
anima/soul) has quite different connotations, and certainly does not refer to an
ontological entity that exists independently from the body.[87]
Seen in this light, the explanation of Vatable is remarkable. He sees a close
connection between ‘soul’ (anima/nẹp̄ẹš), ‘life’ (vita/ chay), and ‘honour’
(gloria/kāvōd). They are all linked explicitly to man’s bodily existence. The
effect of his exegesis is that the three statements (certainly the last two)
almost become tautological. Also remarkable is Vatable’s straightforward
equation of ‘anima mea’ with ‘me’. He stresses the fact that human existence is
one, and that words like soul (anima/nẹp̄ẹš) and honour (gloria/kāvōd) are not
interesting phenomena an sich, but are only relevant as long as they are
connected to the body, and thus to man as he exists, lives, acts in this life.
This is also 100% Jewish. Another proof of Vatable’s profound knowledge of the
Hebrew world is that he refuses to give the word ‘kāvōd’ any ethereal meaning,
as is done by Bucer who equates it with ‘memoria’. Just like the nẹp̄ẹš, the
kāvōd can not be disconnected from the body. It has no being in itself. Honour
or glory, but now we better replace it with the Hebrew word: ‘kāvōd’, says
Vatable, is very much like the nẹp̄ẹš, but in particular it is that which gives
human life and activity some ‘weight’, some ‘gravity’ (which is the primitive
meaning of the Hebrew word ‘kāvōd’) seen in the light of eternity, or better:
coram Deo, in God’s eyes. Vatable goes so far as to practically equate
‘kāvōd’ and ‘nẹp̄ẹš’ (‘anima’ and ‘gloria’),
which indeed is possible in Hebrew, but remains very odd in Latin.[88]
Vatable’s final remark about some Hebrew exegetes who suggest that – at least
for the wicked – there is no eternal life at all, but that they simply perish
when they die (i.e. their souls perish with their bodies) is of course rejected
as heretical, but was– and still is – an opinion which in the Jewish
anthropology is quite defensible. Actually, if one follows Vatable’s exposé this
opinion does not come as a surprise, but as a logical consequence. His reference
to Psalm 1, added in the margin (was there a discussion?) suggests that he
understood how and why these Hebrews came to adopt these opinions and how
perfectly exegetically logical they were. In 1546 it was however unthinkable to
publicly advocate these positions. However, the fact that Vatable was able to
expound them so coherently, suggests that he was fully aware of their
consistency. And, to make the circle complete: did not Aristotle – now already
more than 30 years his companion in philosophia – say something similar
concerning the essence of the soul in his De anima?
We should not underestimate François
Vatable. He probably had his opinions, but –unlike many of his contemporaries –
knew that there are times to speak out and times to remain silent.
copyright, Dick Wursten (Antwerpen)
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