CHAPTER IX.

ALCHYMICAL AND ASTROLOGICAL CHIMERA.

Having so far explained the fragile basis on which human knowledge may

be said to have depended, during the obscurity and barbarity of the

middle ages, when the progress of true knowledge was obstructed by the

most absurd fancies, and puerile conceits: when conjectures, caprices,

and dreams supplied the place of the most useful sciences, and of the

most important truths, the subsequent illustrative reflections may serve

as a guide to direct the attention of the reader to other delusions,

which arose out of the general chaos.

Chemistry, a science so essentially requisite to explain the phenomena

of known and unknown substances, was studied chiefly by jugglers and

fanatics;--their systems, replete with metaphysical nonsense, and

composed of the most crude and heterogeneous materials, served rather to

nourish superstition than to establish facts, and illustrate useful

truths. Universal remedies, in various forms, met with strenuous

advocates and deluded consumers. The path of accurate observation and

experiment was forsaken: instead of penetrating into the mysterious

recesses of nature, they bewildered themselves in the labyrinth of

fanciful speculation; they overstepped the bounds of good sense,

modesty, and truth; and the blind led the blind. The prolongation of

life too was no longer sought for in a manner agreeable to the dictates

of nature; even this interesting branch of human pursuits was rendered

subservient to chemistry, or rather to the confused system of alchymy.

Original matter was considered as the elementary cause of all beings, by

which they expected literally to work miracles, to transmute the base

into noble metals, to metamorphose man in his animal state by chemical

processes, to render him more durable, and to secure him against early

decline and dissolution. Millions of vessels, retorts, and phials, were

either exposed to the action of the most violent artificial heat, or to

the natural warmth of the sun; or else they were buried in some dunghill

or other fetid mass, for the purpose of attracting this _original

matter_, or obtaining it from putrescible substances.

As the metal called gold always bore the highest value, these crude

philosophers concluded, from a ridiculous analogy, that its value with

respect to the preservation of health and the cure of diseases, must

likewise surpass that of all other remedies. The nugatory art of

dissolving it, so as to render it potable, and to prevent it from again

being converted into metal, employed a multitude of busy idiots, not

only in concealed corners, but in the splendid laboratories of the

great. Sovereigns, magistrates, counsellors, and impostors, struck with

the common frenzy, entered into friendship and alliance, formed private

fraternities, and sometimes proceeded to such a pitch of extravagance,

as to involve themselves and their posterity in ruinous debts. The real

object of many was, doubtless, to gratify their avarice and desire of

aggrandisement: although this sinister motive was concealed under the

specious pretext of searching for a remedy that should serve as a

tincture of life, both for the healthy and diseased, yet some among

these whimsical mortals were actuated by more honourable motives,

zealous only for the interest of truth, and the well-being of their

fellow creatures.

The common people, in some countries, particularly Italy, Germany, and

France often denied themselves the common necessaries of life, to save

as much as would purchase a few drops of the tincture of gold, which was

offered for sale by some superstitious or fraudulent chemist: and so

thoroughly persuaded were they of the efficacy of this remedy, that it

afforded them in every instance the most confident and only hope of

recovery. These beneficial effects were positively promised, but were

looked for in vain. All subduing death would not submit to be bribed

with gold, and disease refused to hold any intercourse with that

powerful deity, who presides over the industry and commerce of all

nations.

As, however, these diversified and almost numberless experiments were

frequently productive of useful inventions in arts and manufactures;

and, as many chemical remedies of real value were thereby accidentally

discovered, great and almost general attention to those bold projectors

was constantly kept alive and excited. Indeed, we are indebted to their

curious observations, or rather perhaps to chance, for several valuable

medicines, the excellence of which cannot be disputed, but which,

nevertheless, require more precaution in their use and application, and

more perspicuity and diligence in investigating their nature and

properties than the original preparers of such articles were able or

willing to afford. All their endeavours to prolong life, by artificial

means, could not be attended with beneficial effects; and the

application of the remedies thus contrived, must necessarily, in many

cases, have proved detrimental to the health of the patient.

In proof of this assertion, it will be sufficient to give a slight

sketch of the different views and opinions of the gold-makers,

Rosicrucians, manufacturers of astralian salts, drops of life, and

tinctures of gold, hunters after the philosopher's stone, and other

equally absurd chimera.

Some of these extravagant enthusiasts fancied that life resembled a

flame, from which the body derived warmth, spirit, and animation. They

endeavoured to cherish and increase the flame, and supplied the body

with materials to feed it, as we pour oil into a burning lamp. Others

imagined they had discovered something invisible and incorporeal in the

air, that important medium which supports the life of man. They

pretended to catch, refine, reduce, and materialize this indefinable

something, so that it might be swallowed in the form of powders, and

drops; that, by its penetrating powers, it might insinuate itself into

the whole animal frame, invigorate, and consequently qualify it for a

longer duration.

Others again were foolish enough to indulge a notion that they could

divest themselves of the properties of matter during this life; that in

this manner they might be defended against the gradual approaches of

dissolution, to which every animal body is subject: and that thus

fortified, without quitting their terrestrial tabernacle, they could

associate at pleasure with the inhabitants of the spiritual world. The

sacred volume itself was interpreted and commented upon by alchymists,

with a view to render it subservient to their intended designs.

Indisputable historical facts, recorded in this invaluable book, were

treated by them as hieroglyphical symbols of chemical processes: and the

fundamental truths of the christian religion were applied, in a wanton

and blasphemous manner, to the purposes of making gold, and distilling

the elixir of life.

The world of spirits was also invaded, and summoned, as it were, to

contribute to the prolongation of human life. Spirits were supposed to

have the dominion of air, fire, earth, and water; they were divided into

distinct classes, and particular services ascribed to each. The

malevolent spirits were opposed and counteracted by various means of

prevention: the good and tutelary were obliged to submit to n sort of

gentle, involuntary servitude. From invisible beings were expected and

demanded visible means of assistance--riches, health, friends, and long

life. Thus the poor spirits were profanely maltreated, nay, sometimes

severely punished, and even miserably flogged in effigy, when they

betrayed symptoms of disaffection, or want of implicit fealty.

As men had thus, in their weakness and folly, forsaken the bounds of

this terrestrial sphere, it will easily be believed, that, with the help

of an exuberant imagination, they would make a transition to the higher

regions--to the celestial bodies and the stars to which, indeed, they

ascribed no less a power than that of deciding the destinies of men, and

which, consequently, must have had a considerable share in shortening or

prolonging the duration of human life--every nation or kingdom was

subjected to the dominion of its particular planet the time of whose

government was determined; and a number of ascendant powers were

fictitiously contrived, with a view to reduce, under its influence,

every thing which was produced and born under its administration. The

professors of astrology appeared as the confidents of these invisible

rulers, and the interpreters of their will; they were well versed in the

art of giving a respectable appearance to this usurped dignity. Provided

they could but ascertain the hour and minute of a person's birth, they

confidently took upon themselves to predict his mental capacities,

future vicissitudes of life, and the diseases he would be visited with,

together with the circumstances, the day and hour of his death.[75]

Not only the common people, but persons of the highest rank and

stations, nay, even men the most distinguished for their rank and

abilities, did homage to those "gods of their idolatry," and lived in

continual dread of their occult powers. With anxious countenance and

attentive ears, they listened to the cantrip effusions of these

pretended oracles, which prognosticated the bright or gloomy days of

futurity. Even physicians were solicitous to qualify themselves for

appointments no less lucrative than respectable:--they forgot, over the

dazzling hoards of Mammon, that they are peculiarly and professedly the

pupils of nature.--The curious student in the universities found

everywhere public lecturers, who undertook to instruct him in the

profound arts of divination, chiromancy, and the _cabala_.

Among other instances, the following anecdote is related of the noted

Thurneisen, who, in the seventeenth century, was invested, at Berlin,

with the respectable offices of printer to the court, bookseller,

almanack-maker, astrologer, chemist, and first physician. Messengers

daily arrived from the most respectable houses in Germany, Poland,

Hungary, Denmark, and even from England, for the purpose of consulting

him respecting the future fortunes[76] of their new-born infants,

acquainting him with the hour of the nativity, and soliciting his advice

and directions as to their management. Many volumes of this singular

correspondence are still preserved in the royal library at Berlin. The

business of this fortunate adept increased so rapidly, that he found it

necessary to employ a number of subaltern assistants, who, together with

their master, realized considerable fortunes. He died in high reputation

and favour with his superstitious contemporaries.

The famous Melancthon was a believer in judicial astrology, and an

interpreter of dreams. Richelieu and Mazarin were so superstitious as to

employ and pension Morin, another pretender to astrology, who cast the

nativities of these two able politicians. Nor was Tacitus himself, who

generally appears superior to superstition, untainted with this folly,

as may be seen from his twenty-second chapter of the sixth book of his

Annals.

In the time of the civil wars, astrology was in high repute. The

royalists and the rebels had their astrologers as well as their

soldiers; and the predictions of the former had a great influence over

the latter. When Charles the first was imprisoned, Lilly, the famous

astrologer, was consulted for the hour that should favour his escape;

and in Burnet's History of his own Times, there is a story which

strongly proves how much Charles II was bigotted to judicial astrology,

a man, though a king, whose mind was by no means unenlightened. The most

respectable characters of the age, Sir William Dugdale, Elias

Ashmole,[77] Dr. Grew, and others, were members of the astrological club.

Congreve's character of Foresight, in Love for Love, was then no

uncommon person, though the humour, now, is scarcely intelligible.

Dryden cast the nativities of his sons; and what is remarkable, his

prediction relating to his son Charles, was accomplished. The incident

being of so late a date, one might hope that it would have been cleared

up; but, if it be a fact, it must be allowed that it forms a rational

exultation for its irrational adepts. Astrologers were frequently, as

may easily be understood, put to their wit's end when their predictions

did not come to pass. Great winds were foretold, by one of the craft,

about the year 1586. No unusual storms, however, happened. Bodin, to

save the reputation of the art, applied it as a figure to some

revolutions in the state, of which there were instances enough at that

time.

At the commencement of the 18th century, the _Illuminati_, a sect of

astrologers, had excited considerable sensation on the continent.

Blending philosophy with enthusiasm, and uniting to a knowledge of every

chemical process a profound acquaintance with astronomy, their influence

over the superstitious feelings of the people was prodigious; and in

many instances the infatuation was attended with fatal consequences. We

shall relate the following, as nearer home than many now before us.

THE HOROSCOPE, A TALE OF THE STARS.

On the summit of St. Vincent's rocks, in the neighbourhood of Clifton,

looking on the Avon, as it rolls its lazy courses towards the Bristol

Channel, stands an edifice, known by the name of "Cooke's Folly." It

consists of a single round tower, and appears at a distance rather as

the remnant of some extensive building, than a complete and perfect

edifice, as it now exists. It was built more than two centuries ago, by

a man named Maurice Cooke; not, indeed, as a strong hold from the arms

of a mortal enemy, but as a refuge from the evils of destiny. He was the

proprietor of extensive estates in the neighbourhood; and while his lady

was pregnant with her first child, as she was one evening walking in

their domains, she encountered a strange looking gipsey, who, pestering

her for alms, received but a small sum. The man turned over the coin in

his hand, and implored a larger gift. "That," said the lady, "will buy

you food for the present."

"Lady," said the gipsey, "it is not food for the wretched body that I

require; the herbs of the field, and the waters of the ditch, are good

enough for that. I asked your alms for higher purposes. Do not distrust

me, if my bearing be prouder than my garments; do not doubt the strength

of my sunken eye, when I tell you that I can read the skies as they

relate to the fate of men. Not more familiar is his hornbook to the

scholar, than are the heavens to my knowledge."

"What, thou art an astrologer?"--"Aye, lady! my fathers were so before

me, even in the times when our people had a home amidst the pyramids of

the mighty--in the times when you are told the mightier prophets of the

Israelites put the soothsayers of Egypt to confusion; idle tales! but if

true, all reckless now. Judah's scattered sons are now desolate as

ourselves; but they bend and bow to the laws and ways of other land--we

remain in the stern stedfastness of our own."

"If then," returned the lady, "I give thee more money, how will it be

applied?"

"That is not a courteous question, but I will answer it. The most

cunning craftsman cannot work without his tools, and some of mine are

broken, which I seek to repair: another crown will be enough."

The lady put the required sum into his hand, and at the same time

intimated a desire to have a specimen of his art.

"Oh! to what purpose should that be? why, why seek to know the course

of futurity? destiny runs on in a sweeping and resistless tide. Enquire

not what rocks await your bark: the knowledge cannot avail you, for

caution is useless against stern necessity."--"Truly, you are not likely

to get rich by your trade, if you thus deter customers."--"It is not for

wealth I labour: I am alone on the earth, and have none to love. I will

not mix with the world lest I should learn to hate. This present is

nothing to me. It is in communion with the spirits who have lived in the

times that are past, and with the stars--those historians of the times

to come--that I feel aught of joy. Fools sometimes demand the exertions

of my powers, and sometimes I gratify their childish curiosity."

--"Notwithstanding I lie under the imputation of folly, I

will beg that you predict unto me the fate of the child which I shall

bear."--"Well, you have obliged me, and I will comply. Note the precious

moment at which it enters the world, and soon after you shall see me

again."

Within a week the birth of an heir awoke the clamorous joy of the

vassals, and summoned the strange gipsey to ascertain the necessary

points. These learned, he returned home; and the next day presented Sir

Maurice with a scroll, containing the following lines:

"Twenty times shall Avon's tide

In chains of glistening ice be tied--

Twenty times the woods of Leigh

Shall wave their brunches merril

In spring burst forth in mantle gay,

And dance in summer's scorching ray:

Twenty times shall autumn's frown,

Wither all their green to brown--

And still the child of yesterday

Shall laugh the happy hour away.

That period past, another sun

Shall not his annual journey run,

Before a secret silent foe,

Shall strike that boy a deadly blow.

Such, and sure his fate shall be:

Seek not to change his destiny."

The knight read it; and in that age, when astrology was considered a

science as unerring as holy prophecies, it would have been little less

than infidelity to have doubted the truth of the prediction. Sir

Maurice, however, was wise enough to withhold the paper from his lady;

and in answer to her inquiries, continually asserted that the gipsey was

an impostor, and that the object of his assuming the character was

merely to increase her alms.

The fated child grew in health and beauty; and as we are the most

usually the more strongly attached to pleasures in proportion to the

brevity of continuance, so did the melancholy fate of his son more

firmly fix him in the heart of Sir Maurice. Often did the wondering lady

observe the countenance of her husband with surprise, as watching the

endearing sportiveness of the boy, his countenance, at first brightened

by the smile of paternal love, gradually darkened to deepest grief, till

unable to suppress his tears, he would cover the child with caresses,

and rush from the room. To all inquiries, Sir Maurice was silent, or

returned evasive answers.

We shall pass over the infancy of young Walter, and resume the narrative

at the period in which he entered into his twentieth year. His mother

was now dead, and had left two other children, both girls, who, however,

shared little of their father's love, which was almost exclusively fixed

on Walter, and appeared to encrease in strength as the fatal time grew

near.

It is not to be supposed that he took no precaution against the

predicted event. Sometimes hope suggested that a mistake might have been

made in the horoscope, or that the astrologer might have overlooked some

sign which made the circumstance conditional; and in unison with the

latter idea he determined to erect a strong building, where, during the

year in which his doom was to be consumated, Walter might remain in

solitude. He accordingly gave directions for raising a single tower,

peculiarly formed to prevent ingress, except by permission of its

inhabitants. The purpose of this strange building, however, he kept

secret; and his neighbours, after numerous vain conjectures, gave it the

name of "Cooke's Folly."

Walter, himself, was kept entirely ignorant of the subject, and all his

inquiries were answered with tears. At length the tower was completed,

and furnished with all things necessary for comfort and convenience; and

on the eve of Walter's completing his twentieth year, Sir Maurice shewed

him the gipsey's scroll, and begged him to make use of the retreat

prepared for him till the year expired. Walter at first treated the

matter lightly, laughed at the prophecy, and declared he would not lose

a year's liberty if all the astrologers in the world were to croak their

ridiculous prophecies against him. Seeing, however, his father so

earnestly bent on the matter, his resolution began to give way, and at

length he consented to the arrangement. At six the following morning,

therefore, Walter entered the tower, which he fastened within as

strongly as iron burs would admit, and which was secured outside in a

manner equally firm. He took possession of his voluntary prison with

melancholy feelings, rather occasioned by the loss of present pleasure,

than the fear of future pain. He sighed as he looked upon the wide

domain before him, and thought how sad would it be to hear the joyous

horn summoning his companions to the chase, and find himself prevented

from attending it--to hear the winter wind howling round his tower, and

rushing between the rocks beneath him, and miss the cheerful song and

merry jest, which were wont to make even the blast a pleasant sound.

Certainly his time passed as pleasantly as circumstances permitted. He

drew up in a basket, at his meal hours, every luxury which the season

produced. His father and sisters daily conversed with him from below,

for a considerable time; and the morris-dancers often raised his

laughter by their grotesque movements.

Weeks and months thus passed, and Walter still was well and cheerful.

His own and his sisters' hopes grew more lively, but the anxiety of Sir

Maurice increased. The day drew near which was to restore his son to his

arms in confident security, or to fulfil the prediction which left him

without an heir to his name and honours.

On the preceding afternoon Walter continually endeavoured to cheer his

parent, by speaking of what he would do on the morrow; desired his

sisters to send round to all their friends, that he might stretch his

limbs once more in the merry dance; and continued to talk of the future

with much confidence, that even Sir Maurice caught a spark of hope from

the fiery spirits of the youth.

As the night drew on, and his sisters were about to leave him, promising

to wake him at six by a song, in answer to their usual inquiry if he

wanted anything more that night, "Nothing," said he, "and yet the night

feels chilly, and I have little fuel left--send me one more faggot."

This was sent him, and as he drew it up, "This," said he, "is the last

time I shall have to dip for my wants, like an old woman for water:

thank God! for it is wearisome work to the arm."

Sir Maurice still lingered under the window in conversation with his

son, who at length complained of being cold and drowsy. "Mark," said he,

as he closed the window, "mark father, Mars, the star of my fate, looks

smilingly to-night, all will be well." Sir Maurice looked up--a dark

cloud spot suddenly crossed the planet, and he shuddered at the omen.

The anxious father could not leave the spot. Sleep he knew it was vain

to court, and he therefore determined to remain where he was. The

reflexions that occupied his mind continually varied: at one time he

painted to himself the proud career of his high spirited boy, known and

admired among the mighty of his time; a moment after he saw the

prediction verified, and the child of his love lying in the tomb. Who

can conceive his feelings as hour dragged after hour, while he walked to

and fro, watching the blaze of the fire in the tower, as it brightened

and sunk again--now pacing the court with hasty steps, and now praying

fervently for the preservation of his son? The hour came. The cathedral

bell struck heavy on the father's heart, which was not to be lightened

by the cheerful voices of his daughters, who came running full of hope

to the foot of the tower. They looked up, but Walter was not

there;--they called his name, he answered not. "Nay," said the youngest,

"this is only a jest; he thinks to frighten us, but I know he is safe."

A servant had brought a ladder, which he ascended, and he looked in at

the window. Sir Maurice stood immoveable and silent.--He looked up, and

the man answered the anxious expression of his eyes. "He is asleep,"

said he. "He is dead!" murmured the father.

The servant broke a pane of glass in the window, and opening the

casement, entered the room. The father, changing his gloomy stedfastness

for frenzied anxiety, rushed up the ladder. The servant had thrown aside

the curtains and the clothes, and displayed to the eyes of Sir Maurice,

his son lying dead, a serpent twined round his arm, and his throat

covered with blood. The reptile had crept up the faggot last sent him,

and fulfilled the _prophecy_.

To this happy effort of the imagination in favour of prying into

futurity, may be added, with the same intention.

THE FATED PARRICIDE; AN ORIENTAL TALE OF THE STARS.

Ibrahim was universally celebrated for his riches and magnificence. His

armies were formidable, his victories splendid, and his treasury

inexhaustible. He enjoyed, moreover, what was ten thousand times more

solid and more valuable than riches--the love and veneration of his

subjects; and he had a beautiful young wife, in whose endearing

tenderness alone he could find happiness--if happiness could be found on

earth. All these advantages entitled Ibrahim to the appellation of the

Solomon of his age; and yet Ibrahim was not happy. A son was wanting to

crown his felicity. In vain did a heart formed for all the charities of

the wedded state, endeavour to supply the refusal of nature, by the

adoption of a son; in vain did gratitude endeavour to deceive his heart,

by caresses which any other would have thought to be the natural

effusions of filial sensibility, of filial piety and affection; that

heart incessantly perceived a solitude within itself. Even the

consolatory visions of hope began to grow less frequent, when heaven at

last heard his prayers, Alas! in the very instant that Fortune gratifies

our fondest wishes, she often betrays us; and her smiles are a thousand

times more fatal than her frowns. The birth of the prince was

celebrated throughout the empire by the customary public demonstrations

of joy. The felicity of Ibrahim was complete. He was perpetually

revolving in his mind the sentiments and hopes which the nation would

form of the royal infant. Scarce was he born, when paternal solicitude

embraced, as it were, his whole life. Impatient to know his destiny,

that solicitude plunged into futurity, determined, if possible, to wrest

from time, the secrets of which he was the hoary-headed guardian.

In Ibrahim's dominions were some sages particularly honoured with the

confidence of heaven. He commanded them to consult the stars, and to

report their answer. "Tremble," said the sages; "thou unfortunate

father, tremble! Never before have the skies presented such inauspicious

omens. Let him fly; let this son, too dear to you, fly; let him avoid,

if possible, the meeting with any savage beasts. His seventh year is the

fatal one; and if he should happen then, to escape the misfortune that

hangs over him, ah! do not wish him to live. His father, his very

father, will not be able to escape from the hand of a parricide."

This answer threw the sultan into the deepest consternation. He did not

sink, however, into absolute despondency; his courage soon revived. He

determined to take all the precautions which paternal tenderness could

suggest, to defeat the prediction of the astrologers. He, therefore,

caused a kind of subterranean palace to be made on the summit of a lofty

mountain. The labour and expense of the excavation was prodigious.

Extensive walks were formed, with a variety of apartments, in which

every thing was provided that could contribute to the conveniences, and

even the luxuries of life. In this magnificent cavern, Ibrahim, as it

were, inhumed his son, together with his governess, of whose care, and

fidelity he had no doubt. Provisions were constantly carried thither at

stated periods. The king forgot not a single day to visit the mountain

that contained his beloved treasure, and to be satisfied of his safety

with his own eyes. With what delight did he behold the growing beauties

of his son! With what pleasure and rapture did he listen to his

sprightly saillies of wit, his smart repartees, and those pretty

_nothings_ which a father, in particular, is fond to recollect and to

repeat; at which the most rigid gravity may smile, and which are worth

all the understanding of riper years. He was perpetually counting the

hours and minutes that he had to spend with his son; and he incessantly

reproached himself, for not seeing him more frequently.

Shah Abbas, for such was his name, at length reached his seventh year,

that fatal year, which Ibrahim would fain have delayed, even at the

expense of his crown. He would never leave his son a minute. But, alas!

is it possible to escape our destiny? Summoned one day to his palace by

affairs of the most pressing exigency, he left the mountain with extreme

reluctance. Never had Shah Abbas appeared wore amiable in his father's

eyes, never had Ibrahim appeared more affectionate to his son! Each was

tormented by an uneasy sensation, an unaccountable presentiment that

they were to meet there no more!

Some robbers were hunting wild beasts: the ardour of the pursuit brought

them to this mountain. A lion that fled from them, perceived the

subterraneous passage, and took refuge in it. The robbers, who durst not

follow him, waited, however, for the sequel of this adventure. On a

sudden, they heard a violent scream, and presently all was silent. This

silence suggested to them, that the cavern now contained, not a living

creature, but the lion. They threw down a quantity of stones, which soon

put an end to the existence of the formidable animal. They then

descended into the cavern, securing themselves from all further danger

from the lion by cutting off his head. Wandering through every part of

this subterraneous palace, they were astonished at the prodigious riches

which they beheld. They perceived a slaughtered woman: this was the

prince's governess. By her side lay a child covered with blood, who

shewed, however, some signs of life. They examined his wounds: they

found not one of them dangerous. The captain of these banditti, after

stripping the cavern of its valuable contents, dressed the young

prince's wounds himself, and effected a cure. The growing qualities of

Shah Abbas endeared him to the chief, who adopted him as his son, and

distinguished him as such by all the tenderness of a paternal heart.

Some years had elapsed since Ibrahim had first deplored the loss of a

son, who, having been constantly ignorant of the name and titles of his

father, had been unable to explain his origin to the robbers, was soon

to become their chief. Such were the unaccountable caprices of fortune,

which led to the completion of the prophecy, that had destined him to

become one day a parricide. Ibrahim was wont to divert his grief by the

pleasures of the chase; and this exercise soon became almost his only

occupation. One evening that he had strayed, with a very slender escort,

into the defiles of a very solitary mountain, a troop of robbers rushed

upon him. The combat for sometime was furious. An arrow pierced the

king; it excited the spirit of vengeance in his attendants, and they

fought, determined to conquer or die. They were soon victorious. The

murderer was taken, and conducted to the metropolis, that he might

undergo the punishment due to his crime.

Ibrahim, on the bed of death, summoned the astrologers to attend him,

and thus addressed them: "I was to have perished, you told me, by the

hand of a son; but it is the hand of a robber that has inflicted the

blow."--"Sire," answered the sages, "forbear to seek an explanation. The

robber"... They proceed no further. The young robber appears, and

relates his history. Ibrahim, while he bowed in submission to God, and

adored His inscrutable decrees, blessed Him also for having restored his

son; and the tears which he saw flow from the eyes of Shah Abbas, were a

consolation in his dying moments.

APPLICATION OF ASTROLOGY TO THE PROLONGATION OF LIFE, &C.

Astrology was also made subservient to the means of prolonging human

life; but how an art which determines the fate of mortals, and

ascertains the impassable limits of the grave, could consistently be

made subservient to such a purpose, we are rather at a loss to conceive,

unless accounted for as follows. The teachers of divination maintained,

that not only men, but all natural bodies, plants, animals, nay even

whole countries, including every place and family, were under the

government of some particular planet. As soon as the masters of the

occult science had discovered by their tables, under what constellation

the misfortune or distemper of any person originated, nothing farther

was required, than that he should remove to a dwelling ruled by an

opposite planet, and confine himself exclusively to such articles of

food and drink as were under the influence of a different star. In this

artificial manner they contrived to form a system, or peculiar

classification of planets, namely, Lunar, Solar, Mercurial and the

like--and hence arose a confused map of dictated rules, which, when

considered with reference to the purposes of health, cleanliness,

exercise etc. form remarkable contrasts to those of the Greeks. But this

preventive and repulsive method was not merely confined to persons who

suffered under some bodily disorder: even individuals, who enjoyed a

good state of health, if an unlucky constellation happened to forebode

a severe disease, or any other misfortune, were directed to choose a

place of residence influenced by a more friendly star--or to adopt such

aliment only, as being under the auspices of a propitious star, might

counteract the malignant influence of its antagonist.

It was also pretty generally believed and maintained, that a sort of

intimate relation or sympathy subsisted between metals and plants: hence

the names of the latter were given to the former, in order to denote

this supposed connexion and affinity. The corresponding metals were

melted into a common mass, under a certain planet, and were formed into

small medals, or coins, with the firm persuasion, that he who carried

such a piece about his person, might confidently expect the whole favour

and protection of the planet, thus represented.[78] Thus we perceive how

easy the transition is from one degree of folly to another; and this may

help to account for the shocking delusions practised in the

manufacturing and wearing of metallic amulets of a peculiar mould, to

which were attributed, by a sort of magic influence, the power and

protection of the respective planet: these charms were thought to

possess virtue sufficient to overrule the bad effects presaged by an

unlucky hour of birth, to promote to places of honour and profit, and to

be of potent efficacy in matters of commerce and matrimony. The German

soldiers, in the dark and superstitious ages, believed that if the

figure of Mars, cast and engraved under the sign of the Scorpion, were

worn about the neck, it would render them invulnerable, and insure

success to their military enterprises--hence the reason why amulets were

then found upon every soldier, either killed in battle or taken

prisoner.

We shall so far conclude these observations on the chimera of astrology

and medicine with the following remarks in the words of Chamber against

Knight's work,[79] which defends this fanciful science, if science it may

be called. "It demonstrates nothing while it defends every thing. It

confutes, according to Knight's own ideas: it alleges a few scattered

facts in favour of astrological productions, which may be picked up in

that immensity of fabling which disgraces history. He strenuously

denies, or ridicules, what the greatest writers have said of this

fanciful art, while he lays great stress on some passages from obscure

authors, or what is worse, from authors of no authority."--The most

pleasant part, however, is at the close where he defends the art from

the objections of Mr. Chamber by recrimination. Chamber had enriched

himself by medical practice, and when he charges the astrologers by

merely aiming to gain a few beggarly pence, Sir Christopher catches

fire, and shews by his quotations, that if we are to despise an art by

its professors attempting to subsist, or for the objections which may be

raised against its vital principles, we ought by this argument most

heartily to despise the medical science, and medical men; he gives all

here he can collect against physic and physicians, and from the

confessions of Galen and Hippocrates, Avicenna and Agrippa, medicine is

made to appear a vainer science than even astrology itself.

Lilly's opinions, and his pretended science, were such favourites of

the age, that the learned Gataker[80] wrote professedly against this

popular delusion. At the head of his star-expounding friends, Lilly not

only formally replied to, but persecuted Gataker annually in his

predictions, and even struck at his ghost, when beyond the grave.

Gataker died in July 1654, and Lilly, having written in his almanack for

that year, for the month of August, the following barbarous latin line--

Hoc in tumbo, jacet presbyter et nebulo!

Here in this tomb lies a presbyter and a knave,

had the impudence to assert, that he had predicted Gataker's death! But

the truth is, it was an empty epitaph to the "Lodgings to let:" it stood

empty, reader, for the first passenger that the immortal ferryman should

carry over the Styx.

But hear that arch imposter Old Patridge of more modern date whose

_gulleries_ appear to have no end. "The practice of astrology is divided

into speculative and theoretical." (Astronomy and judicial astrology).

The first teaches us how to know the stars and planets, and to find

their places and motions. The second directs us to the knowledge of the

influence and operations of the stars and planets upon sublunary bodies,

and without this last the former is of little use. Astronomy cannot

direct and inform us of the secret influences and operations of the

stars and planets, without the assistance of' the _most sublime_ art of

astrology. For astronomy is conversant about the subject of this art,

and doth furnish the astrologer with matter whereon to exercise his

judgment, but astrology disposes this matter into predictions, or

rational conjectures, as time and occasion require.

"The practice again is subdivided into two parts, or quadripartite, as

Ptolomy (lib. 2) declares: the first considers the general state of the

world, and from eclipses and comets, great conjunctions, annual

revolutions, quarterly ingressions and lunations, also the rising,

culminating, and setting of the fixed stars, together with the

configurations of the planets both to the sun and among themselves,

judgment is deduced, and the astrologer doth frame his annual

predictions of all sensitive and vegetative things lying in the air,

earth, or water; of plague, plenty, dearth, mutations of the air, wars,

peace, and other general accidents of countries, provinces, cities, etc.

"The second of these subdivided parts, in particular, respects only the

private state of every single man and woman, which must be performed

from the scheme of the nativity, the knowledge of which is of most

excellent use to all persons. Therefore let the nativities of children

be diligently observed for the future, that is to say, the day, hour,

and minute of birth as near as can be, which will be of use to the

astrological physician, for the most principal conjecture of the

malignity of the disease, whether it be curable, or shall end with

death, depends upon the knowledge of the nativity; and very rarely any

disease invades a person, but some unfortunate direction of the

luminaries or ascendant to the body, or beams of malignant planets

preceded the same, or did then operate, or at least some evil

revolution, profection or transit, which cannot be discovered by any

other way but by astrology. Moreover, it would be convenient that the

true time of the first falling sick be observed precisely, and by that,

together with the nativity, be judiciously compared, the physician shall

gain more credit than by all his other skill; and herein, the

astrologer's foresight shall often contradict the judgment of the

physician; for when the astrologer foretells a phlegmatic man, that at

such a time he shall be afflicted with a choleric disease, the doctor

will perceive by his physical symptoms, the astrologer, from his

knowledge in more secret causes of nature, hath excelled him in his art.

"Now if God Almighty do not countermand or check the ordinary course of

nature, or the matter of elementary bodies here below be not

unproportionable, and thereby unapt to receive their impressions, there

is no reason why, in a natural and physical necessity, astrological

predictions should not succeed and take effect, and by how much the

knowledge which we have by the known causes is more demonstrative and

infallible than that which we have either by signs or effects, so much

by this companion doth Astrology appear worthy to be preferred before

Physic." Cardan, who was an excellent physician saith: "If by the art of

Astrology he had not better attained to the knowledge of his diseases,

than the physician that would have administered to him by his skill, he

had been assuredly cured by death, rather than preserved alive by

physic. (Vide his Comment. upon Ptol. Quidrepart.) From hence it appears

it is necessary that the physician should be skilful in astrology, but

on the contrary, _ex quovis legno non fit Mercurius_, every astrologer

cannot be a physician; if the nativity be but precisely known, or if,

but _tempus ablatum_ or _suppositum_, and withal some notable accidents

of sickness, danger of drowning, peril by fire, marriage, or other, the

like accidents may be foreseen."

The astrologers were a set of cunning, equivocal rogues; the more

cautious of whom only uttered their prognostications in obscure and

ambiguous language, which might be applied to all things, times,

princes, and nations whatever. An almanack maker, a Spanish friar,

predicted, in clear and precise words, the death of Henry the Fourth of

France; and Pierese, though he had no faith in star-gazing, yet, alarmed

at whatever menaced the life of a beloved sovereign, consulted with some

of the king's friends, and had the Spanish almanack laid before his

Majesty, who courteously thanked them for their solicitude, but utterly

slighted the prediction: the event occurred, and in the following year,

the Spanish _Lilly_ spread his own fame in an new almanack. This

prediction of the friar, was the result either of his being acquainted

with the plot, or from his being made an instrument for the purposes of

those who were.

Cornelius Agrippa rightly designates astrologers "a perverse and

preposterous generation of men, who profess to know future things, but

in the meantime are altogether ignorant of past and present; and

undertaking to tell all people most obscure and hidden secrets abroad,

at the same time, know not what happens in their own houses."

But this Agrippa, for profound

And solid lying, was renown'd:

The Anthroposophus, and Floud,

And Jacob Behmen, understood;

Knew many an amulet and charm

That would do neither good nor harm.

He understood the speech of birds

As well as they themselves do words;

Could tell what subtlest parrots mean

That speak and think contrary, clean;

What member 'tis of whom they talk,

Why they cry, rope and--walk, knave, walk.

He could foretell whatever was

By consequence to come to pass;

As death of great men, alterations,

Diseases, battles, inundations:

All this without th' eclipse o' th' sun,

Or dreadful comet, he hath done

By inward light, a way as good,

And easy to be understood:

But with more lucky hit than those

That use to make the stars depose

As if they were consenting to

All mischief in the world men do:

Or like the devil, did tempt and sway 'em

To rogueries, and then betray 'em.

We shall conclude our astrological strictures with the following

advertisement, which affords as fine a satirical specimen of quackery as

is to be met with. It is extracted from "poor Robin's" almanack for

1773; and may not be without its use, to many at the present day. We

will vouch for it being harmless, but as we are not in the secret of all

that it contains, our readers must endeavour to get the information that

may be wanted, on certain important points, from other quarters. It will

shew, however, that the almanack astrologers did not live upon the best

terms, but like their predecessors, were constantly abusing and

attacking each other.

ADVERTISEMENT.

"The best time to cut hair. How moles and dreams are to be interpreted.

When most proper season to bleed. Under what aspect of the moon best to

draw teeth, and cut corns. Pairing of nails, on what day unlucky. What

the kindest sign to graft or inoculate in; to open bee-hives, and kill

swine. How many hours boiling my Lady Kent's pudding requires. With

other notable questions, fully and faithfully resolved, by me Sylvester

Patridge, student in physic and astrology, near the Gun in Moorfields."

"Of whom likewise may be had, at reasonable rates, trusses, antidotes,

elixirs, love-powders. Washes for freckles, plumpers, glass-eyes, false

calves and noses, ivory-jaws, and a new receipt to turn red hair into

black."

Old Robin's almanack was evidently the best of the time, and free from

all the astrological cant with which Patridge's Merlinus Liberatus was

filled; against which Poor Robin did not a little declaim. The motto to

his title runs thus:--

"We use no weather-wise predictions

Nor any such-like airy fictions;

But (which we think is much the best)

Write the plain truth, or crack a jest:

And (without any further pretence)

Confess we write, and think of the pence:

For that's the aim of all who write,

Profit to gain, mixed with delight."

Poor old Robin attacked the astrologers of his day with no little

vehemence: "How different a task is it," says he, "for man to behave so

in this world as to please all the people that inhabit it! A man who

makes use of his best endeavours to please every body is sure to please

but very few, and by that means displease a great many; which may very

possibly be the case with poor Robin this year. But (be that as it will)

_old Bob_ is sometimes well pleased, when rogues, prick-eared coxcombs,

fools, and such like, are the most displeased at him: be it therefore

known, that it is only men of sense and integrity, (whether they have

much money or no money) that he has any, (the least) regard for: I see

very plainly, that an humble man is (generally) accounted _base_; if

otherwise, he is esteemed _proud_; a bold look is looked upon as

_impudence_; if modest, (then to be sure) he must be _hypocritical_; if

his behaviour is grave, it is owing to a _sullenness_ of temper; if

affable, he is but _little_ regarded; if strictly just, then _cruel_

must be his character; but, if merciful and forbearing, then (of

consequence) a silly, sheepish-headed fool! Now, I challenge all the

ASS-TROLOGERS and CONJURERS, throughout the whole kingdom, to

demonstrate that all the whimsey-headed opinions which different men

retain of different actions, together with their being so vastly

different at different times, one from another; I say, I call upon them

ALL to prove, that they are (wholly) owing to the STARRY influences!

There being, (I believe) in general as many different ideas and

conceptions in the mind of mankind, as there are variety of complexions

and countenances."

His observations on the four _unequal_ quarters of the year, as he terms

them, are no less satirical, humorous, and full of truth, and so much in

"opposition" with others of the trade, that poor old Robin, in good

sense and trite remarks, carries away the palm from all his predecessors

and contemporaries; indeed, he is so little of an astrologer, that,

instead of consulting the angles, aspects, conjunctions and trines, of

the planets, he is vulgar enough to attach more importance to the

substantials and doings of this nether world. We present our readers

with the following as a specimen, which, though in his usual way, a

little rough-mouthed, occasionally is free from that almanack-cant which

characterises the vocations of his fellow-labourers in the same field.

SPRING,

which, being the most delightful season in the whole year, as it comes

the next after a long and cold winter makes it as welcome as it is

delightful; for now the lengthening days afford full time for every body

but drunkards and watchmen to finish their respective day's works by

day-light, besides some time to spare to walk abroad, to see the fine

new livery with which Dame Flora has now decked out Mother Earth. In the

opening of the Spring, when all nature begins to recover herself, the

same animal pleasure which makes the bird sing, and the whole brute

creation rejoice, rises very sensibly in the hearts of mankind. This

quarter will bring whole shoals of mackerel, and plenty of green pease;

likewise gooseberries, cherries, cheese-cakes, and custards.

But, let us now moralize,--and improve these vernal delights into real

virtue; and, when we find within ourselves a secret satisfaction arising

from the beauties of the creation, may we consider to whom we stand

indebted for all these various gratifications and entertainments of

sense; who it is that opens thus his hand, and fills the world with

good! But so soon as this quarter is ended; i.e. there, or then, or

thereabout, for in this case a day or two can break no great squares--I

say this quarter (as usual) will be followed by the

SUMMER,

when, and at which time the days will have attained their greatest, and

consequently the nights the shortest lengths. June, in which month this

quarter is said to begin, will retain some likeness, if not exhibit the

perfections of the Spring; but the two next succeeding months will

perhaps have less vigour, but a greater degree of heat; for, as they

pass on, they will be ripening the fruits of the earth; whilst the Dog

star is shooting his rays amongst, the industrious farmer will have

business enough upon his hands: for now he expects to be reaping and

gathering together the returns of his labour; but then he must expect,

nevertheless, to bear the heat and burthen of the day.

This quarter very justly represents a man in the full vigour of health

and strength; the beauty of the Spring is gone! The strength of Summer

is of short continuance! It will very soon be succeeded by Autumn: thus,

and thus (O reader) do then consider, hast thou seen the seasons, two,

three, or four times return in regular succession: remember that the

time is coming, when all opportunities of this sort will be for ever hid

from thine eyes: remember if forty years have passed thee, I say, I

would have thee remember, that thy spring is gone, thy summer almost

spent! Have then, therefore, a very serious retrospective view of thy

past, and, (if it please God) a fixed resolution to amend thy prolonged

life: then being now arrived almost on the eve of

AUTUMN

which begins this year (as usual) when, or then, or thereabouts, the

time the Summer quarter ends--namely, when the nights begin to grow

longer and the days shorter: this is the time when the barns are filled

with wheat, which soon must be thrashed out, in order to be sowed again.

This also is the time when the orchards abound with fruits of the kind,

and consequently the properest time to make cider.

Lamentable now must be the case of those poor women who, in this

quarter, happen to long for green pease or strawberries; for I dare

assure them, upon the _honest word_ of an astrologer, that they can get

none on this side of next Easter. Some now-abouts under the notion of

soldiers, shall sally out at night upon _Pullen_, or perhaps lie in

embuscade for a rope of onions, as if they were Welsh freebooters. Loss

of time and money may be recovered by industry: but to be a fool-born,

or a rogue in nature, are diseases incurable.

Remember that in any quarter of the year, this is almost always a

certain presage of a wedding, when all parties are agreed, and the

parson in readiness; and then you must be sure to have money in

readiness too, or your intended marriage may happen to prove a

miscarriage. But those who are able to pay for tying the knot, when it

is fairly tied, may go home to dinner and be merry; go to the tavern and

be merry; go to supper and be merry; rise next morning and be merry: and

let the world know, that a married life is a plentiful life, when people

have good estates; a fruitful life when they have many children; and an

happy life, when man and wife love each other as they ought to do, and

never quarrel nor disagree.

OF THE WINTER QUARTER.

But now comes on the cold, dirty, dithering, pouting, rainy, shivering,

freezing, blowing, stormy, blustering, cruel quarter called winter; the

very thoughts of it are enough to fright one; but that it very luckily

happens to be introduced (this year) by a good, fat merry Christmas: yet

it is the last and worse, and very much resembles extreme old age

accompanied by poverty; this quarter is also pretty much like Pharoah's

lean kine; for it generally (we find) eats up and devours most of the

produce of the preceding seasons: now the sun entering the southern

tropic, affords us the least share of his light, and consequently the

longest long nights: yet, nevertheless, in this uncomfortable quarter,

you may possibly pick up some crumbs of comfort, provided you have good

health, good store of the ready Rhino, a good wife, and other good

things about you: and especially a good conscience: for then the starry

influences must necessarily appear very benign, notwithstanding the

inclemency of the weather; for in such cases there will be frequent

_conjunctions_ of sirloins and ribs of beef; _aspects_ of legs and

shoulders of mutton, with _refrenations_ of loins of veal, shining near

the watery triplicity of plumb-porridge--together with trine and sextile

of minced pies; collared brawn from the Ursus major, and sturgeon from

Pisces--all for the honour of Christmas: and I think it is a much

pleasanter sight than a Covent-Garden comedy, to see a dozen or two of

husbandmen, farmers, and honest tenants, at a nobleman's table (who

never raised their rents) worry a sirloin, and hew down, (I mean cut up)

a goose like a log: while a good Cheshire cheese, and plenty of nappy

ale, and strong March beer, washes down the merry goblets, sets all

their wit afloat, and sends them to their respective homes, as happy as

kings.

And now, kind loving readers, every one,

God send y'a good new-year, when the old one 's gone.

FOOTNOTES:

[75] The following prediction, and the verification of it are of so

recent a date, that we cannot resist giving it a place in our pages. In

the account of the late Captain Flinder's voyage of discovery, is the

melancholy relation of the loss of the master, Mr. Thistle, with seven

others, in a boat, on the inhospitable shores of Terra Australia. To

this narrative, the following note is subjoined, which we shall here

quote in Captain Flinder's own words: "This evening, Mr. Fowler, the

lieutenant, told me a circumstance which I thought very extraordinary,

and it afterwards proved to be more so. While we were lying at Spithead,

Mr. Thistle was one day waiting on shore, and having nothing else to do,

went to a certain old man, named Pine, to have his fortune told. The

cunning man informed him that he was going on a long voyage, and that

the ship, on arriving at her destination, would be joined by another

vessel. That such was intended, he might have learnt privately; but he

added that Mr. Thistle would be lost before the other vessel joined. As

to the manner of his loss the magician refused to give any information.

My boat's crew, hearing what Mr. Thistle said, went to consult the wise

man, and after the prefatory information of a long voyage, they were

told that they would be shipwrecked, but not in the ship they were going

out in; whether they would escape and return to England, he was not

permitted to reveal. This tale Mr. Thistle often told at the mess-table;

and I remarked, with some pain, in a future part of the voyage, that

every time my boat's crew went to embark in the Lady Nelson, there was

some degree of apprehension amongst them, that the time of the predicted

shipwreck was arrived. I make no comment, (says Capt. Flinders,) upon

this story, but to recommend a commander, if possible, to prevent any of

his crew from consulting fortune-tellers."--It should be observed that,

strange as it may appear, every particular of these predictions came

exactly to pass, for the master and his boat's crew were lost before the

Investigator was joined by the Lady Nelson, from Port-Jackson; and when

the former ship was condemned, the people embarked with their commander

on board the Porpoise, which was wrecked on a coral reef, and nine of

the crew were lost.

[76] In 1670, the passion for horoscopes and expounding the stars,

prevailed in France among the first rank. The new-born child was usually

presented naked to the astrologer, who read the first lineaments in its

forehead, and the transverse lines in its hands, and thence wrote down

its future destiny. Catherine de Médicis carried Henry IV, when a child,

to old Nostradamus, who antiquaries esteem more for his Chronicle of

Provence than for his vaticinating powers. The sight of the revered

seer, with a heard which "streamed like a meteor in the air," terrified

the future hero, who dreaded a whipping from so grave a personage.

[77] The Chaldean Sages were nearly put to the route by a quarto pack of

artillery, fired on them by Mr. John Chamber, in 1691. Apollo did not

use Marsyas more inhumanly than his scourging pen this mystical race;

and his personalities made them sorely feel it. However, a Norwich

knight, the very Quixote of Astrology, arrayed in the enchanted armour

of his occult authors, encountered this pagan in a most stately

carousal. He came forth with "A Defence of Judicial Astrologye, in

answer to a treatise lately published by Mr. John Chamber. By

Christopher Knight. Printed at Cambridge, 1693."

[78] Vide Amulets passim.

[79] Lilly's work, a voluminous quarto monument of the folly of the age,

was sold originally for four guineas; it is entitled "Christian

Astrology," modestly treated, in three books, by William Lilly, student

in Astrology, 2nd. edition 1659. Every page is embellished with a

horoscope which, sitting on the pretending tripod, he explains with the

utmost facility. There is also a portrait of this arch rogue and

star-gazer, an admirable illustration for Lavater. As to Lilly's great

skill in prophecy, there goes a pleasant story related by a kinsman of

Dr. Case, his successor--namely--that a person wanting to consult him on

a certain point coming to his house one morning, Lilly himself going to

the door, saw a piece of filthy carrion which some one, who had more wit

than manners, had left there: and being much offended at its unsightly

appearance wished heartily he did but know who had treated him in that

manner by leaving such an unwelcome legacy, as it were, in his very

teeth, that he might punish them accordingly; which his customer

observing when the conjurer demanded his business, "Nothing at all,"

said he, "for I'm sure if you can't find out who has defiled your own

door, it is impossible you should discover anything relating to me," and

with this caustic remark he left him.

[80] The Reverend and learned Thomas Gataker, with whom Lilly was

engaged in a dispute, in his Annotations on the tenth chapter of

Jeremiah and 10th verse, called him a "blind buzzard," and Lilly

reflected again on his antagonist in his _Annus Tenebrosus_. Mr.

Gataker's reply was entitled Thomas Gataker, B.D. his Vindication of the

annotation by him published upon these words, "thus saith the Lord,"

(Jer. x. 2) against the scurrilous aspersions of that grand impostor

William Lilly; as also against the various expositions of two of his

advocates Mr. John Swan, and another by him cited but not named. Together

with the Annotations themselves, wherein the pretended grounds of

judiciary astrology, and the scripture proofs produced to it, are

discussed and refuted. London, 1653, in 4th part 192. Our author making

animadversions on this piece in his English Merlin, 1654 produced a

third piece from Mr. Gataker, called a Discourse apologetical, wherein

Lilly's lewd, and loud lies in his Merlin or Pasquil for 1654, are

clearly laid open; his shameless desertion of his own cause further

discovered, his abominable slanders fully refuted, and his malicious and

_murtherous_ mind, inciting to a general massacre of God's ministers,

from his own pen, evidently known, etc. London 1654.

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