CHAPTER XV.

PRESAGES, PRODIGES, PRESENTIMENTS, ETC.

The common opinion of comets being the presages of evil is an old pagan

superstition, introduced and entertained among Christians by their

prejudice for antiquity; and which Mr. Bayle says is a remnant of pagan

superstition, conveyed from father to son, ever since the first

conversion from paganism; as well because it has taken deep root in the

minds of men, as because Christians, generally speaking, are as far gone

in the folly of finding presages in every thing, as infidels themselves.

It may be easily conceived how the pagans might be brought stedfastly to

believe that comets, eclipses, and thunderstorms, were the forerunners

of calamities, when man's strong inclination for the marvellous is

considered, and his insatiable curiosity for prying into future events,

or what is to come to pass. This desire of peeping into futurity, as has

already been shown, has given birth to a thousand different kinds of

divination, all alike whimsical and impertinent, which in the hands of

the more expert and cunning have been made most important and

mysterious tools. When any one has been rogue enough to think of making

a penny of the simplicity of his neighbours, and has had the ingenuity

to invent something to amuse, the pretended faculty of foretelling

things to come, has always been one of the readiest projects. From hence

always the assumption of judiciary astrology. Those who first began to

consult the motions of the heavens, had no other design in view, than

the enriching their minds with so noble a knowledge; and as they had

their genius bent on the pursuit of useful knowledge, they never dreamed

of converting astrology or a knowledge of the stars to the purpose of

picking the pockets of the credulous and ignorant, of whose blind side

advantage was taken by these sideral sages to turn them to account by

making them believe that the doctrine of the stars comprehended the

knowledge of all things that were, or are, or ever shall be; so that

every one, for his money, might come to them and have their fortune

told.

The better to gull the world, the Star-gazers assert that the heavens

are the book in which God has written the destiny of all things; and

that it is only necessary to learn to read this book, which is simply

the construction of the stars, to be able to know the whole history of

what is to come to pass. Very learned men, Origen and Plotinus among the

rest, were let into the secret, and grew so fond of it, that the

former,[122] willing to support his opinion by something very solid,

catches at the authority of an Apocryphal book, ascribed to the

patriarch Joseph, where Jacob is introduced speaking to his twelve sons:

"I have read in the register of heaven what shall happen to you and your

children."[123] But comets were the staple commodity that turned

principally to account. In compliance, however, with the impressions of

fear which the strangeness and excessive length of these stars made upon

mankind, the Astrologers did not hesitate to pronounce them of a malign

tendency; and the more so when they found they had, by this means, made

themselves in some degree necessary, in consequence of the impatient

applications that were made to them as from the mouth of an oracle, what

particular disaster such and such a comet portended.

Eclipses furnished more frequent occasions for the exercise of their

talent. From this worthy precedent of Judicial Astrology, others took

the hint and invented new modes of divination, such as Geomancy,

Chiromancy, Onomancy, and the like; till the world by degrees became so

overrun with superstition, that the least trifle was converted into a

presage or presentiment; and the more so when this kind of knowledge

became the business of religion; and when the substance of divine

worship consisted in the ordinances of Augurs who, to make themselves

necessary in the world, were obliged to keep up and quicken men's

apprehensions of the wrath of God, took special care to cultivate

comets, and bring it into a proverb, that "so many comets so many

calamities." They knew, as Livy expresses it, that it was best to fish

in troubled waters, where, speaking of a contagious distemper, which,

from the country villages, spread over the city, occasioned by an

extraordinary drought in the year of Rome 326, he observes how, at last,

it infected the mind,[124] by the management of those who lived in the

superstition of the people; so that nothing was to be seen or heard

except some new fangled ceremony or other in every corner. "The devil,"

as Bayle says, "who had a hopeful game on't, and saw superstition the

surest way to get himself worshipped under the name of the false gods,

in a hundred various ways, all criminal and abominable in the sight of

the sovereign Lord of heaven and earth, never failed, on the appearance

of any rare meteor, or uncommon star, to exert his imposing arts, and

make idolaters believe, they were the signs of divine wrath, and that

they were all undone unless they appeased their gods by sacrifices of

men and brute beasts."

Politicians have also lent a helping hand to give presages a reputation,

as an excellent scheme, either to intimidate the people, or to raise

their drooping spirits. Had the Roman soldiers been free thinkers,

Drusus, the son of Tiberius, had not been so fortunate as to quell a

desperate mutiny among the legions of Pannonia, who utterly refused to

obey his commands; but an eclipse, which critically intervened, broke

their refractory spirits to such a degree, that Drusus, who managed

their panic fear with great dexterity and address, did what he liked

with them.

An eclipse of the moon put the army of Alexander the Great into such a

consternation, some days before the battle of Arbela, that the soldiers,

under the impression that heaven was against them, were very reluctant

to advance; and their devotion turning to downright disobedience,

Alexander commanded the Egyptian astrologers, who were the deepest

versed in the mystery of the stars, to give their opinions of this

eclipse in the presence of all the officers of his army. Without giving

themselves much trouble to explain the physical cause which it was their

interest to conceal from the people, the wise men declared that the sun

was on the side of the Grecians, and the moon for the Persians; and that

this planet was never in an eclipse, but it threatened them with some

mighty disaster: of this they quoted several ancient examples among the

kings of Persia, who, after an eclipse, had always found their gods

unpropitious in the day of battle. "Nothing," says Quintus Curtius,[125]

"is so effectual as superstition for keeping the vulgar under. Be they

ever so unruly and inconstant, if once their minds are possessed with

the vain visions of religion, they are all obedience to the soothsayer,

whatever becomes of the general." The answer of the Egyptian astrologers

being circulated among the soldiers, restored their confidence and their

courage.

On another occasion Alexander, just before he passed the river

Granicus, observing the circumstance of time, which was the month

Desius, reckoned unfortunate to the Macedonians from all antiquity, it

made the soldiers melancholy; he immediately ordered this dangerous

month to be called by the name of that which preceded it, well knowing

what power and influence vain religious scruples have over little and

ignorant minds. He sent private orders to Aristander his chief

soothsayer, just offering up a sacrifice for a happy passage, to write

on the liver of the victim with a liquor prepared for that purpose, that

the gods had "granted the victory to Alexander." The notice of this

miracle filled the men with invincible ardour; and now they rent the air

with acclamations, exclaiming that the day was their own, since the gods

had vouchsafed them such plain demonstrations of their favour. The

history, indeed, of this mighty conqueror, affords more such examples of

artifice, though he always affected to conquer by mere dint of bravery.

But what is still more extraordinary, this very hero, who palmed so

often such tricks upon others, was himself caught in his turn, as being

well as exceedingly superstitious by fits. We say nothing of

Themistocles,[126] who, in the war between Xerxes and the Athenians,

despairing to prevail upon his countrymen by force of reasoning to quit

their city, and betake themselves to sea, set all the engines of

religion to work; forged oracles, and procured the priests to circulate

among the people, that Minerva had fled from Athens, and had taken the

way which led to the port. Philip of Macedon, whose talent lay in

conquering his enemies by good intelligence, purchased at any price, had

as many oracles at command as he pleased; and hence Demosthenes justly

suspecting too good an understanding between Philip and the Delphian

priestess, rallied her with so much acrimony upon her partiality to that

prince. It is equally obvious how the same reasons of state, which kept

up the popular superstition for other prodigies, should take care to

encourage it with regard to comets and other celestial appearances.

Panegyrists have also done their parts to promote the superstition of

presages, as well as the flattering of poets and orators. When a hero is

to be found and extolled, they exclaim, that _all nature adores him;

that she exerts her utmost powers to serve him; that she mourns at his

misfortunes, promises him long before hand to the world; and when the

world, by its sins, is unworthy to possess him longer, heaven, which

calls him home, hangs out new lights, etc._ With this hyperbole M.

Balzac regaled Cardinal Richelieu, adding, that _to form such a

minister, universal nature was on the stretch; God gives him first by

promise, and makes him the expectation of ages_. For this he was

attacked by the critics, but he defended himself; alleging, that other

panegyrics had gone some notes higher: he, for example, among the

ancients, who said of certain great souls that _all the orders of heaven

were called together to fancy a fine destiny for them_, and that

illustrious nation who wrote that _the eternal mind was wrapt in deep

contemplation, and big with the vast design, when it conceived such a

genius as Cardinal Hippolito d'Este_. Why could not this same writer

have thought of one example more, such as that of the priest who told

the Emperor Constantine that _divine Providence, not content with

qualifying him for the empire of the world, had formed virtues in his

soul, which should entitle him to reign in heaven with his only son_.

Thus have flatterers seized the most surprising natural effects to

enhance their hero's glory, and make their court to great men. The poets

of the time of Augustus vied with each other in persuading the world

that the murder of Julius Caesar was the cause of all the prodigies that

followed. Horace, for instance, in one of his odes, attempts to prove

that the overflowings of rivers were reckoned among bad presages; and

pretends that the Tiber had not committed all those ravages, but in

complaisance to his wife Ilia, who was bent on the death of his kinsman

Caesar; and that all the other calamities which subsequently afflicted

or threatened the Roman empire, were the consequences of his

assassination. If Virgil may be credited,[127] the sun was so troubled at

the death of Caesar that it went into deep mourning, and so obscured his

beams, that the world was alarmed lest it never should appear again. In

the mean time, no sooner was the comet observed, which followed this

murder, than another set of flatterers pretended that it was Caesar's

soul received into the order of the Gods; and they dedicated a temple[128]

to the comet, and set up the image of Caesar with a star on his

forehead.

It appears from the sermons of the ancient fathers, that the Christians

of that time believed they gave great relief to the moon in an eclipse,

by raising hideous shouts to the skies, which they imagined recovered

her out of her fainting fit, and without which she must inevitably have

expired. St. Ambrose, the author of the 215th sermon _de tempore_, bound

up with those of St. Austin, and St. Eloy, Bishop of Noyon, declaim

particularly against this abuse. It appears also from the Homilies of

St. Chrysostom, St. Basil, St. Austin, and others, that the Christians

of their days drew several kinds of presages from persons sneezing at

critical times; from meeting a cat, a dog, or an ill-looking (squinting)

woman, a maiden, one blind of an eye, or a cripple; on being caught by

the cloak on stepping out of a door, or from a sudden catch in one's

joint or limb.

St. Eloy tells his people plainly, that whoever pays attention to what

he meets at his first going out or coming in, or to any particular

voice, or to the chirping of a bird, is so far a Pagan. Indeed, all

these, and innumerable others of the same description of superstitious

among Christians, are remnants of ancient paganism; as they have been

denounced by the censures of popes, provincial councils, synodical

decrees, and other grave authorities. And, though there were not such a

cloud of witnesses, there would be no difficulty in proving the disease

of pagan origin. For, independent of those who preached the gospel of

our Saviour, having never promulgated such notions, we learn from

several ancient authorities, that the Gentiles had all these

superstitions in the highest regard. It was one general opinion among

them, that the eclipses of the moon were the consequence of certain

magic words by which sorcerers could wrench her from the skies, and drag

her near enough the earth to cast a frothy spittle on their herbs--one

of the principal ingredients in their incantations. To rescue the moon

from the supposed torture she was in, and to frustrate the charm, it was

necessary to prevent her from hearing the magic words, by drowning in

noise and hideous outcries, for which purpose the people used to

assemble during an eclipse of the moon with _rough_ music, such as

frying pans, brazen vessels, old tin kettles, etc. According to Pietro

della Voile, the Persians keep up the same ridiculous ceremony to this

day. It is likewise, according to Tavernier, observed in the kingdom of

Tunquin, where they imagine the moon to be, at that time, struggling

with a dragon. It is to the same source that we owe the imaginary raging

heat of the dog-star--the pretended presages of several evils ascribed

to eclipses, and all the allusions of astrology.

In a treatise written by Abogard, Bishop of Lyons, in 833, composed to

undeceive a world of people, who were persuaded that there were

enchanters who could command thunder, and hail, and tempest, to destroy

the fruits of the earth; and that they drove a great trade by this

mystery with the people of a certain country called Magonia, who came

once a year, sailing in large fleets through the air, to freight with

the blighted corn, for which they paid down ready money to the

enchanters. So little was this matter doubted, that one day the bishop

had enough to do to save three men and a woman from being stoned to

death, the people insisting they had just fallen overboard from one of

these aërial ships.

We do not here examine whether, in those days, the people literally were

more superstitious and credulous than in the days of paganism. It is

enough to say, that they were of very easy belief; and hence men began

to write their histories in the style of romance, mixing up a thousand

fables with the deeds of great men, such as Roland, nephew to

Charlemagne; which so suited the taste of the age, that no book would

afterwards go down in any other style--witness, for instance, the Manual

of Devotions by James de Voragine, archbishop of Genoa, composed towards

the latter end of the thirteenth century; and in which Melchior Canus, a

learned Spanish bishop, is so scandalized in his eleventh book of Common

Places. Another doctor of divinity,[129] speaking of the depraved state of

the times, says, "It was the error, or rather folly, of some of the

ancients, to think, that in writing the actions of illustrious men, the

style must sink, unless they mixed up with it the ornaments, for so they

called them, of poetical fiction, or something of this sort; and,

consequently, thus blended truth with fable." This being the prevailing

fashion of the times, we are inclined to believe, that in the histories

of the crusades, many apocryphal subjects are introduced, which ought,

consequently, to be read _cum grano salis_. This is decidedly the

opinion of Pere Maimbourg,[130] who, after the relation of the battle of

Iconium, won by Frederick of Barbarossa, 1190, says, "What was chiefly

wonderful after this battle, was the conqueror's sustaining little or no

loss, which most people ascribed to the particular protection of St.

Victor and St. George, names oftenest invoked in the Christian army,

which many of them said they saw engaging at the head of the squadrons.

Whether in reality there might be something in it extraordinary, which

has often happened, as the Scriptures inform us; or whether, by often

hearing of celestial squadrons appearing at the battle of Antioch in the

first crusade, warm imaginations possessed with the belief, and

penetrated with these ideas, formed new apparitions of their own, but

sure it is, that one Louie Helfenstein, a gentleman of reputation, and

far from a visionary, affirmed to the emperor, on his oath, and on the

vow of a pilgrim devoted to the holy sepulchre and the crusade, that _he

often saw St. George charge at the head of the squadrons, and put the

enemy to flight_; which was afterwards confirmed by the Turks

themselves, owning that they saw some troops in white charge in the

first ranks in the Christian army, though there were really none of that

livery. No one, I know, is bound (continues P. Maimbourg) to believe

visions of this kind, subject for the most part to notorious illusion:

but I know too, that an historian is not of his own authority, to reject

them, especially when supported by such remarkable testimony.

"And though he be at liberty to believe or not, yet he has no regret, by

suppressing them, to deprive the reader of his liberty, when he meets

with passages of this kind, of judging as he thinks fit." This

reflection (says Bayle) from so celebrated an historian, not suspected

of favouring the Hugonot incredulity, is a strong presumption on my

side.

The abuse of presentiments has been carried to the very Scriptures. We

are told, that the manner of Tamerlane giving his blessing to his two

sons, by bowing down the head of the elder, and chucking the youngest

under the chin, was a presage of the elevation of the latter in

prejudice to the former, was grounded on the 48th chapter of Genesis,

where Jacob is represented laying his right hand on the head of the

younger, forseeing by inspiration that he would be the greater of the

two. Meanwhile there is a difference between the two benedictions. The

Tartar, wholly destitute of the knowledge of future events, did not

diversify the motion of his hands, on purpose to establish a presage;

and God never vouchsafing this knowledge to infidels, did not guide his

hands in a particular manner to form a presage of what should befal his

children;--whereas Jacob, on the contrary, filled with the spirit of

prophecy, whereby he saw the fortunes of his children, directed his

words and actions according to this knowledge; by which means both

became presages.

Presages, presentiments, and prodigies, might be multiplied ad

infinitum. Whoever reads the Roman historians will be surprised at their

number, and which frequently filled the people with the most dreadful

apprehensions. It must be confessed, that some of these seem altogether

supernatural; while much the greater part only consist of some of the

uncommon productions of nature, which superstition always attributed to

a superior cause, and represented as the prognostications of some

impending misfortunes. Of this class may be reckoned the appearance of

two suns;[131] the nights illuminated by rays of light; the views of

fighting armies; swords and spears darting through the air; showers of

milk, of blood, of stones, of ashes, or of fire; and the birth of

monsters, of children, or of beasts who had two heads; or of infants who

had some feature resembling those of the brute creation. These were all

dreadful prodigies which filled the people with inexpressible

astonishment, and the whole Roman empire with an extreme perplexity; and

whatever unhappy event followed, repentance was sure to be either caused

or predicted by them.

FOOTNOTES:

[122] Euseb. Praep. Evang. l. 6. c. 9.

[123] Legi in tabulis coeli quaecunque contingent vobis et Feliis

vestris.

[124] Nec corpora modo affecta tabo, sed animos quoque multiplex

religio, et pleraque externa invasit, novos ritus sacrificando

vaticinandoque, inferentibus in domos, quibus quaestui sunt capti

superstitione animi. L. 4, dec. 1.

[125] Tacit, Annal. lib. 1, et ib. 4, cap. 10.

[126] Plutarch in his life.

[127] Georg. l. 1.

[128] Suetonius in vita Caesaris.

[129] Petseus, in Galfredo Monimetensi.

[130] Hist. Crusade, l. 5.

[131] Nothing is more easy than to account for these productions, which

have no relation to any events, no more than comets, that may happen to

follow them. The appearance of two suns has frequently happened in

England, as well as in other places, and is only caused by the clouds

being placed in such a situation as to reflect the image of that

luminary; nocturnal fires, inflamed spears, fighting armies, were no

more than what we call aurora borealis, northern lights, or inflamed

vapours floating in the air; showers of stones, of ashes, or of fire,

were no other than the effects of the eruptions of some volcano at a

considerable distance. Showers of milk were only caused by some quality

in the air condensing and giving a whitish colour to the water, etc.

Thaumaturgia; Or, Elucidations of the Marvellous · 第 15 / 22 章