Away with the angels?

I remember the shock, like a jolt of static electricity. One day, between taking my degree and beginning my first job, while looking through a 16th-century book about numerology that had once belonged to John Dee in the British Library, I came upon an annotation in his own neat italic hand casting up the numerical values of the letters of his name. The total he wrote down came to 666.

John Dee (1527–1609) was a magus, but we must not think that this made him a loony witch. An early Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, teaching Greek, he acquired a reputation for learning in mathematics, navigation and astronomy. But his long pursuit was of something he knew was dangerous and which I am not convinced he always thought licit: angelic conversations.

He explained his intentions in a little speech to the Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II on a visit to Prague in 1584, saying that he had spent 40 years in study ‘to come by the best knowledge that man might attain unto in the world’, but had found that no book could teach him the truths he longed for, and so he had prayed to God, whose ‘holy Angels for these two years and a half, have used to inform me’.