abominable superstition of witchcraft. Abominable, unquestionably,
the evil was; but justice compels us to add that the remedy of
relentless and ruthless persecution with which it was sought to
remove the pest was a reign of abhorrent and atrocious cruelty. Into
the question itself we dare not enter, lest we should be ourselves
bewitched. We know that divination by supposed supernatural
agency existed among the Hebrews, that magical incantations were
practised among the Greeks and Romans, and that more modern
witchcraft has been contemporaneous with the progress of
Christianity. But we must dismiss the subject in one borrowed
sentence. "The main source from which we derived this superstition
is the East, and traditions and facts incorporated in our religion.
There were only wanted the ferment of thought of the fifteenth
century, the energy, ignorance, enthusiasm, and faith of those days,
and the papal denunciation of witchcraft by the bull of Innocent the
Eighth, in 1459, to give fury to the delusion. And from this time, for
three centuries, the flames at which more than a hundred thousand
victims perished cast a lurid light over Europe." [283] The singular
notion, which we wish to present, is the ancient belief that witches
could control the moon. In the _Clouds_ of Aristophanes,
Strepsiades tells Socrates that he has "a notion calculated to deprive
of interest"; which is as follows:--
"_Str_. If I were to buy a Thessalian witch, and draw down the
moon by night, then shut her up in a round helmet-case, like a
mirror, and then keep watching her--"
"_Soc_. What good would that do you, then?"
"_Str_. What? If the moon were not to rise any more anywhere, I
should not pay the interest."
"_Soc_. Because what?"
"_Str_. Because the money is lent by the month." [284]
Shakespeare alludes to this, where Prospero says, "His mother was a
witch, and one so strong that could control the moon" (_Tempest_,
Act v.).
If the witch's broom, on whose stick she rode to the moon, be a type
of the wind, we may guess how the fancy grew up that the airy
creation could control those atmospheric vapours on which the light
and humidity of the night were supposed to depend. [285]
III. LUNAR ECLIPSES.
All round the globe, from time immemorial, those periodic
phenomena known as solar and lunar eclipses have been occasions
of mental disquietude and superstitious alarm. Though now
regarded as perfectly natural and regular, they have seemed so
preternatural and irregular to the unscientific eye that we cannot
wonder at the consternation which they have caused. And it must be
confessed that a total obscuration of the sun in the middle of the day
casts such a gloom over the earth that men not usually timid are still
excusable if during the parenthesis they feel a temporary uneasiness,
and are relieved when the ruler of the day emerges from his dark
chamber, apparently rejoicing to renew his race. An eclipse of the
moon, though less awe-inspiring, is nevertheless sufficiently so to
awaken in the superstitious brain fearful forebodings of impending
calamity. Science may demonstrate that there is nothing abnormal in
these occurrences, but to the seeker after signs it wilt be throwing
words away; for, as Lord Kames says, "Superstitious eyes are never
opened by instruction."
We will now produce a number of testimonies to show how these
lunar eclipses have been viewed among the various races of the
earth in ancient and modern times. The Chaldaeans were careful
observers of eclipses, and Berosus believed that when the moon was
obscured she turned to us her dark side. Anaximenes said that her
mouth was stopped. Plato, Aristotle, the Stoics, and the
Mathematicians said that she fell into conjunction with the bright
sun. Anaxagoras of Clazomenae (born B.C. 499) was the first to
explain the eclipse of the moon as caused by the shadow of the earth
cast by the sun. But he was as one born out of due time. We are all
familiar with the use made by students of unfulfilled prophecy of
every extraordinary occurrence in nature, such as the sudden
appearance of a comet, an earthquake, an eclipse, etc. We know
how mysteriously they interpret those simple passages in the Bible
about the sun being darkened and the moon being turned into blood.
If they were not wilfully blind, such facts as are established by the
following quotations would open their eyes to the errors in their
exegesis. At any rate, they would find their theories anticipated in
nearly every particular by those very heathen whom they are wont
to pity as so benighted and hopelessly lost.
Grimm writes: "One of the most terrible phenomena to heathens
was an _eclipse_ of the sun or moon, which they associated with a
destruction of all things and the end of the world. I may safely
assume that the same superstitious notions and practices attend
eclipses among nations ancient and modern. The Indian belief is that
a serpent eats up the sun and moon when they arc eclipsed, or a
demon devours them. To this day the Hindoos consider that a giant
lays hold of the luminaries and tries to swallow them. The Chinese
call the solar eclipse zhishi (solis devoratio), the lunar yueshi (lunae
devoratio), and ascribe them both to the machinations of a dragon.
Nearly all the populations of Northern Asia hold the same opinion.
The Finns of Europe, the Lithuanians, and the Moors in Africa, have
a similar belief." [286] Flammarion says: "Among the ancient
nations people used to come to the assistance of the moon, by
making a confused noise with all kinds of instruments, when it was
eclipsed. It is even done now in Persia and some parts of China,
where they fancy that the moon is fighting with a great dragon, and
they think the noise will make him loose his hold and take to flight.
Among the East Indians they have the same belief that when the sun
and the moon are eclipsed, a dragon is seizing them, and
astronomers who go there to observe eclipses are troubled by the
fears of their native attendants, and by their endeavours to get into
the water as the best place under the circumstances. In America the
idea is that the sun and moon are tired when they are eclipsed. But
the more refined Greeks believed for a long time that the moon was
bewitched, and that the magicians made it descend from heaven to
put into the herbs a certain maleficent froth. Perhaps the idea of the
dragon arose from the ancient custom of calling the places in the
heavens at which the eclipses of the moon took place the head and
tail of the dragon." [287] Sir Edward Sherburne, in his "Annotations
upon the _Medea_," quaintly says: "Of the beating of kettles,
basons, and other brazen vessels used by the ancients when the
moone was eclipsed (which they did to drown the charms of
witches, that the moon might not hear them, and so be drawne from
her spheare as they suppos'd), I shall not need to speake, being a
thing so generally knowne, a custom continued among the Turks to
this day; yet I cannot but adde, and wonder at, what Joseph Scaliger,
in his 'Annotations upon Manilius,' reports out of Bonincontrius, an
ancient commentator upon the same poet, who affirms that in a
town of Italy where he lived (within these two centuries of yeares),
he saw the same piece of paganisme acted upon the like occasion."
[288] Another, and more recent writer, also says of these eclipses:
"The Chinese imagine them to be caused by great dragons trying to
devour the sun and moon, and beat drums and brass kettles to make
the monsters give up their prey. Some of the tribes of American
Indians speak of the moon as hunted by huge dogs, catching and
tearing her till her soft light is reddened and put out by the blood
flowing from her wounds. To this day in India the native beats his
gong, as the moon passes across the sun's face, and it is not so very
long ago that in Europe both eclipses and rushing comets were
thought to show that troubles were near." [289] Respecting China, a
modern traveller speaks in not very complimentary language. "If
there is on the earth a nation absorbed by the affairs of this world
and who trouble themselves little about what passes among the
heavenly bodies, it is assuredly the Chinese. The most erudite
among them just know of the existence of astronomy, or, as they
call it, _tienwen_--'celestial literature.' But they are ignorant of the
simplest principles of the science, and those who regard an eclipse
as a natural phenomenon, instead of a dragon who is seeking to
devour the sun and moon, are enlightened indeed." [290] This
statement ought to be taken with more than one _granum salis_,
especially as Mrs. Somerville assures us that the Chinese had made
advances in the science of astronomy 1,100 years before the
Christian era, and also adds: "Their whole chronology is founded on
the observation of eclipses, which prove the existence of that empire
for more than 4,700 years." [291] With this discount the charge
against Chinese ignorance may be passed. "A Mongolian myth
makes out that the gods determined to punish Arakho for his
misdeeds, but he hid so effectually that no one could find out his
lurking-place. They therefore asked the _sun_, who gave an
unsatisfactory answer; but when they asked the _moon_, she
disclosed his whereabouts. So Arakho was dragged forth and
chastised; in revenge of which he _pursues both sun and moon_,
and whenever he comes to hand-grips with one of them, _an eclipse
occurs_. To help the lights of heaven in their sad plight, a
_tremendous uproar_ is made with musical and other instruments,
till Arakho is scared away." [292] "Referring to the Shoo, Pt. III.,
Bk. IV., parag. 4, we find this sentence: 'On the first day of the last
month of autumn the sun and moon did not meet harmoniously in
Fang.'" [293] In less euphemistic phrase, the sun and moon were
_crossed_.
Dr. Wells Williams describes an interesting scene. "In the middle of
the sixth moon lanterns are hung from the top of a pole placed on
the highest part of the house. A single small lantern is deemed
sufficient, but if the night be calm, a greater display is made by
some householders, and especially in boats, by exhibiting coloured
glass lamps arranged in various ways. The illumination of a city like
Canton, when seen from a high spot, is made still more brilliant by
the moving boats on the river. On one of these festivals at Canton,
an almost total eclipse of the moon called out the entire population,
each one carrying something with which to make a noise, kettles,
pans, sticks, drums, gongs, guns, crackers, and what not to frighten
away the dragon of the sky from his hideous feast. The advancing
shadow gradually caused the myriads of lanterns to show more and
more distinctly, and started a still increasing clamour, till the
darkness and the noise were both at their climax. Silence gradually
resumed its sway as the moon recovered her fulness." [294] On
another page Dr. Williams tells us that "some clouds having on one
occasion covered the sky, so that an eclipse could not be seen, the
courtiers joyfully repaired to the emperor to felicitate him that
Heaven, touched by his virtues, had spared him the pain of
witnessing the 'eating of the sun.'" [295] The following passage
from Doolittle's work on the Chinese is sufficiently interesting to be
given without abridgment: "It is a part of the official duties of
mandarins to 'save the sun and moon when eclipsed.' Prospective
eclipses are never noticed in the Imperial Calendar, published
originally at Peking, and republished in the provinces. The imperial
astronomers at the capital, a considerable time previous to a visible
eclipse, inform the Board of Rites of its month, day, and hour.
These officers send this intelligence to the viceroys or governors of
the eighteen provinces of the empire. These, in turn, communicate
the information to all the principal subordinate officers in the
provinces of the civil and the military grade. The officers make
arrangements to save the moon or the sun at the appointed time. On
the day of the eclipse, or on the day preceding it, some of them put
up a written notice in or near their yamuns, for the information of
the public.
"The Chinese generally have no rational idea of the cause of
eclipses. The common explanation is that the sun or the moon has
experienced some disaster. Some even affirm that the object
eclipsed is being devoured by an immense ravenous monster. This is
the most popular sentiment in Fuhchau in regard to the procuring
cause of eclipses. All look upon the object eclipsed with wonder.
Many are filled with apprehension and terror. Some of the common
people, as well as mandarins generally, enter upon some course of
action, the express object of which is to save the luminary from its
dire calamity, or to rescue it from the jaws of its greedy enemy.
Mandarins must act officially, and in virtue of their being officers of
government. Neither they nor the people seem to regard the
immense distance of the celestial object as at all interfering with the
success of their efforts. The various obstacles which ought
apparently to deter them from attempting to save the object eclipsed
do not seem to have occurred to them at all, or, if they have
occurred, do not appear to be sufficient to cause them to desist from
prosecuting their laudable endeavours. The high mandarins procure
the aid of priests of the Taoist sect at their yamuns. These place an
incense censer and two large candlesticks for holding red candles or
tapers on a table in the principal reception room of the mandarin, or
in the open space in front of it under the open heavens.
"At the commencement of the eclipse the tapers are lighted, and
soon after the mandarin enters, dressed in his official robes. Taking
some sticks of lighted incense in both hands, he makes his
obeisance before or facing the table, raising and depressing the
incense two or three times, according to the established fashion,
before it is placed in the censer. Or sometimes the incense is lighted
and put in the censer by one of the priests employed. The officer
proceeds to perform the high ceremony of kneeling down three
times, and knocking his head on the ground nine times. After this he
rises from his knees. Large gongs and drums near by are now beaten
as loudly as possible. The priests begin to march slowly around the
tables, reciting formulas, etc., which marching they keep up, with
more or less intermissions, until the eclipse has passed off.
"A uniform result always follows these official efforts to save the
sun and the moon. _They are invariably successful_. There is not a
single instance recorded in the annals of the empire when the
measures prescribed in instructions from the emperor's astronomers
at Peking, and correctly carried out in the provinces by the
mandarins, have not resulted in a complete rescue of the object
eclipsed. Doubtless the vast majority of the common people in
China believe that the burning of tapers and incense, the prostration
of the mandarins, the beating of the gongs and drums, and the
recitations on the part of the priests, are signally efficacious in
driving away the voracious monster. They observe that the sun or
the moon does not seem to be permanently injured by the attacks of
its celestial enemy, although a half or nearly the whole appeared to
have been swallowed up. This happy result is doubtless viewed with
much complacency by the parties engaged to bring it about. The
lower classes generally leave the saving of the sun or the moon,
when eclipsed, to their mandarins, as it is a part of their official
business. Some of the people occasionally beat in their houses a
winnowing instrument, made of bamboo splints, on the occasion of
an eclipse. This gives out a loud noise. Some venture to assert that
the din of this instrument penetrates the clouds as high as the very
temple of Heaven itself! The sailors connected with junks at this
place, on the recurrence of a lunar eclipse, always contribute their
aid to rescue the moon by beating their gongs in a most deafening
manner.
"Without doubt, most of the mandarins understand the real occasion
of eclipses, or, at least, they have the sense to perceive that nothing
which they can do will have any effect upon the object eclipsed, or
the cause which produces the phenomenon; but they have no
optional course in regard to the matter. They must comply with
established custom, and with the understood will of their superiors.
The imperial astronomers, having been taught the principles of
astronomy and the causes which produce eclipses by the Roman
Catholic missionaries a long while since, of course know that the
common sentiments on the subject are as absurd as the common
customs relating to it are useless. But the emperor and his cabinet
cling to ancient practices, notwithstanding the clearest evidences of
their false and irrational character." [296]
Mr. Herbert Giles accounts for this Chinese obtuseness, or, as some
would have it, opacity, in much the same way. Under the head of
_Natural Phenomena_, he writes: "It is a question of more than
ordinary interest to those who regard the Chinese people as a worthy
object of study, What are the speculations of the working and
uneducated classes concerning such natural phenomena as it is quite
impossible for them to ignore? Their theory of eclipses is well
known, foreign ears being periodically stunned by the gonging of an
excited crowd of natives, who are endeavouring with hideous noises
to prevent some imaginary dog of colossal proportions from
banqueting, as the case may be, upon the sun or moon. At such
laughable exhibitions of native ignorance it will be observed there is
always a fair sprinkling of well-to-do, educated persons, who not
only ought to know better themselves, but should be making some
effort to enlighten their less fortunate countrymen instead of joining
in the din. Such a hold, however, has superstition on the minds of
the best informed in a Chinese community, that under the influence
of any real or supposed danger, philosophy and Confucius are
scattered to the four winds of heaven, and the proudest disciple of
the master proves himself after all but a man." [297] No doubt Mr.
Doolittle and Mr. Giles are both right: custom and superstition form
a twisted rope which pinions the popular mind. But there is yet
another strand to be mentioned which makes the bond a threefold
cord which it will take some time to break. _Prescriptive right_
requires that the official or cultured class in China, answering to the
clerical caste elsewhere, should keep the other classes in ignorance;
because, if science and religion are fellow-helpers, science and
superstition can never dwell together, and the downfall of
superstition in China would be the destruction of imperial despotism
and magisterial tyranny. "Sirs, ye know that by this craft we have
our wealth. But this Paul says that they be no gods, which are made
with hands: so that our craft is in danger to be set at nought. Great is
Diana of the Ephesians!" The mandarins know why they encourage
the mechanics and merchants to save the moon.
We once met a good story in reading one of Jean Astruc's medical
works. "Theodore de Henry, of Paris, coming one time into the
church of St. Dionis, he fell prostrate at the foot of the statue of
Charles the Eighth, as in a sudden fit of devotion. When being told
by one of the monks that was not the image of any saint, he replied,
he was not ignorant of that, but was willing to pay a grateful
acknowledgment to the memory of that prince who had brought the
_Morbus Gallicus_ into France, by which he had made his own
fortune." Herein lies the secret of half of the hypocrisy of the world.
Thank God! the world moves; and the millennium of truth is at
hand.
The literature of China is, happily, not all linsey-woolsey. The
following sample is of the finest silk, worthy to adorn the purest
saint.
"MING TI of the HOUSE of WEI.
"Reigned 227-239 A.D.
"_On an Eclipse.--A Rescript_. WE have heard that if a sovereign is
remiss in government, Heaven terrifies him by calamities and
strange portents. These are divine reprimands sent to recall him to a
sense of duty. Thus, partial eclipses of the sun and moon are
manifest warnings that the rod of empire is not wielded aright. Ever
since WE ascended the throne, OUR inability to continue the
glorious traditions of our departed ancestors and carry on the great
work of civilization, has now culminated in a warning message from
on high. It therefore behoves Us to issue commands for personal
reformation, in order to avert the impending calamity.
"But the relations of Heaven with Man are those of a father and son;
and a father about to chastise his son would not be deterred were the
latter to present him with a dish of meat. WE do not therefore
consider it part of OUR duty to act in accordance with certain
memorials advising that the prime minister and chief astronomer be
instructed to offer up sacrifices on this occasion. Do ye, governors
of districts and other high officers of State, seek rather to rectify
your own hearts; and if any one can devise means to make up for
OUR shortcomings, let him submit his proposals to the Throne."
[298]
The writer of that was "not far from the kingdom of God."
Father Borri, in his account of Cochin China, describes the effect of
a lunar eclipse upon several scholars in the city of Nuoecman in the
province of Pulucambi. "I showed them that the circle of the moon,
on that side the eclipse began, was not so perfect as it should be, and
soon after all the moon being darkened, they perceived the truth of
my prediction. The commander and all of them being astonished,
presently sent to give notice of it to all the ward, and spread the
news of the eclipse throughout the city, that every man might go out
to make the usual noise in favour of the moon; giving out
everywhere that there were no such men as the fathers, whose
doctrine and books could not fail being true, since they had so
exactly foretold the eclipse, which their learned men had taken no
notice of; and therefore, in performance of his promise, the
commander with all his family became Christians, as did many
more of his ward, with some of the most learned men of the city and
others of note." [299] In no unkind spirit we cannot refrain from
noticing, what will strike every reader, how ready divines of all
denominations are to turn the teachings of science to their own
account in the propagation of their faith. It would have been
seemlier for theologians in all ages, if their attitude towards physical
inquirers had been less hostile; they would then have made converts
through eclipses with a better grace. They would, moreover, have
prevented the alienation of many of their truest friends.