had given warning of the great plague and fire of London. Thus, the star
which marks the Bull's northern horn--and which is described by Ptolemy
as like Mars--was, they say, exactly in that part of the sign Gemini
which is the ascendant of London, in 1666. Lilly, however, for whom they
claim the credit of predicting the year of this calamity, laid no claim
himself to that achievement; nay, specially denied that he knew when the
fire was to happen. The story is rather curious. In 1651 Lilly had
published his _Monarchy or no Monarchy_, which contained a number of
curious hieroglyphics. Amongst these were two (see frontispiece) which
appeared to portend plague and fire respectively. The hieroglyphic of
the plague represents three dead bodies wrapped in death-clothes, and
for these bodies two coffins lie ready and two graves are being dug;
whence it was to be inferred that the number of deaths would exceed the
supply of coffins and graves. The hieroglyphic of the fire represents
several persons, gentlefolk on one side and commonfolk on the other,
emptying water vessels on a furious fire into which two children are
falling headlong. The occurrence of the plague in 1665 attracted no
special notice to Lilly's supposed prediction of that event, though
probably many talked of the coincidence as remarkable. But when in 1666
the great fire occurred, the House of Commons summoned Lilly to attend
the committee appointed to enquire into the cause of the fire. 'At two
of the clock on Friday, the 25th of October 1666,' he attended in the
Speaker's chamber, 'to answer such questions as should then and there be
asked him.' Sir Robert Brooke spoke to this effect: 'Mr. Lilly, this
committee thought fit to summon you to appear before them this day, to
know if you can say anything as to the cause of the late fire, or
whether there might be any design therein. You are called the rather
hither, because in a book of yours long since printed, you hinted some
such thing by one of your hieroglyphics.' Unto which he replied: 'May it
please your honours, after the beheading of the late king, considering
that in the three subsequent years the Parliament acted nothing which
concerned the settlement of the nation's peace, and seeing the
generality of the people dissatisfied, the citizens of London
discontented, and the soldiery prone to mutiny, I was desirous,
according to the best knowledge God had given me, to make enquiry by the
art I studied, what might, from that time, happen unto the Parliament
and nation in general. At last, having satisfied myself as well as I
could, and perfected my judgment therein, I thought it most convenient
to signify my intentions and conceptions thereof in forms, shapes,
types, hieroglyphics, etc., without any commentary, that so my judgment
might be concealed from the vulgar, and made manifest only unto the
wise; I herein imitating the examples of many wise philosophers who had
done the like. Having found, sir, that the great city of London should
be sadly afflicted with a great plague, and not long after with an
exorbitant fire, I framed these two hieroglyphics, as represented in the
book, which in effect have proved very true.' 'Did you foresee the
year?' said one. 'I did not,' said Lilly; 'nor was desirous; of that I
made no scrutiny. Now, sir, whether there was any design of burning the
city, or any employed to that purpose, I must deal ingenuously with you,
that since the fire I have taken much pains in the search thereof, but
cannot or could not give myself the least satisfaction therein. I
conclude that it was the finger of God only; but what instruments He
used thereunto I am ignorant.'
[8] Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Aguecheek were evidently not well
taught in astrology. 'Shall we set about some revels?' says the latter.
'What shall we do else?' says Toby; 'were we not born under Taurus?'
'Taurus, that's sides and heart,' says sapient Andrew. 'No, sir,'
responds Toby, 'it's legs and thighs. Let me see thee caper.'
[9] 'This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick
in fortune (often the surfeit of our own behaviour), we make guilty of
our disasters the sun, moon, and stars: as if we were villains on
necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and
treacherous by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers,
by inforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are, evil,
by a divine thrusting on.'--SHAKESPEARE (_King Lear_).
[10] There are few things more remarkable, or to reasoning minds more
inexplicable, than the readiness with which men undertook in old times,
and even now undertake, to interpret omens and assign prophetic
significance to casual events. One can understand that foolish persons
should believe in omens, and act upon the ideas suggested by their
superstitions. The difficulty is to comprehend how these superstitions
came into existence. For instance, who first conceived the idea that a
particular line in the palm of the hand is the line of life; and what
can possibly have suggested so absurd a notion? To whom did the thought
first present itself that the pips on playing-cards are significant of
future events; and why did he think so? How did the 'grounds' of a
teacup come to acquire that deep significance which they now possess for
Mrs. Gamp and Betsy Prig? If the believers in these absurdities be asked
_why_ they believe, they answer readily enough either that they
themselves or their friends have known remarkable fulfilments of the
ominous indications of cards or tea-dregs, which must of necessity be
the case where millions of forecasts are daily made by these instructive
methods. But the persons who first invented those means of divination
can have had no such reasons. They must have possessed imaginations of
singular liveliness and not wanting in ingenuity. It is a pity that we
know so little of them.
[11] Wellington lived too long for the astrologers, his death within the
year having unfortunately been predicted by them many times during the
last fifteen years of his life. Some astrologers were more cautious,
however. I have before me his horoscope, carefully calculated, _secundum
artem_, by Raphael in 1828, with results 'sufficiently evincing the
surprising verity and singular accuracy of astrological calculations,
when founded on the correct time of birth, and mathematically
calculated. I have chosen,' he proceeds, 'the nativity of this
illustrious native, in preference to others, as the subject is now
living, and, consequently, all possibility of making up any fictitious
horoscope is at once set aside; thus affording me a most powerful shield
against the insidious representations of the envious and ignorant
traducer of my sublime science.' By some strange oversight, however,
Raphael omits to mention anything respecting the future fortunes of
Wellington, showing only how wonderfully Wellington's past career had
corresponded with his horoscope.
[12] 'I have still observed,' says an old author, 'that your right
Martialist doth seldom exceed in height, or be at the most above a yard
or a yard and a half in height' (which is surely stint measure). 'It
hath been always thus,' said that right Martialist Sir Geoffrey Hudson
to Julian Peveril; 'and in the history of all ages, the clean tight
dapper little fellow hath proved an overmatch for his burly antagonist.
I need only instance, out of Holy Writ, the celebrated downfall of
Goliath and of another lubbard, who had more fingers in his hand, and
more inches to his stature, than ought to belong to an honest man, and
who was slain by a nephew of good King David; and of many others whom I
do not remember; nevertheless, they were all Philistines of gigantic
stature. In the classics, also, you have Tydeus, and other tight compact
heroes, whose diminutive bodies were the abode of large minds.'
[13] It is likely that Swedenborg in his youth studied astrology, for in
his visions the Mercurial folk have this desire of knowledge as their
distinguishing characteristic.
[14] It is singular that, when there is this perfectly simple
explanation of the origin of the nomenclature of the days of the week,
an explanation given by ancient historians and generally received,
Whewell should have stated that 'various accounts are given, all the
methods proceeding upon certain arbitrary arithmetical processes
connected in some way with astrological views.' Speaking of the
arrangement of the planets in the order of their supposed distances, and
of the order in which the planets appear in the days of the week, he
says, 'It would be difficult to determine with certainty why the former
order was adopted, and how and why the latter was derived from it.' But,
in reality, there is no difficulty about either point. The former
arrangement corresponded precisely with the periodic times of the seven
planets of the old Egyptian system (unquestionably far more ancient than
the system adopted by the Greeks), while the latter springs directly
from the former. Assign to the hours of the day, successively, the seven
planets in the former order, continuing the sequence without
interruption day after day, and in the course of seven days each one of
the planets will have ruled the first hour of a day, in the
order,--Saturn, the sun, the moon, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, and Venus.
What arbitrary arithmetical process there is in this it would be
difficult to conceive. Arithmetic does not rule the method at all. Nor
has any other method ever been suggested; though this method has been
presented in several ways, some arithmetical and some geometrical. We
need then have no difficulty in understanding what seems so perplexing
to Whewell, the universality, namely, of the notions 'which have
produced this result,' for the notions were not fantastic, but such as
naturally sprang from the ideas on which astrology itself depends.
[15] The following remarks by the Astronomer-Royal on this subject seem
to me just, in the main. They accord with what I had said earlier in my
essay on Saturn and the Sabbath of the Jews ('Our Place among
Infinities,' 11th essay). 'The importance which Moses attached to it
[the hebdomadal rest] is evident; and, with all reverence, I recognise
to the utmost degree the justice of his views. No direction was given
for religious ceremonial' (he seems to have overlooked Numbers xxviii.
9, and cognate passages), 'but it was probably seen that the health
given to the mind by a rest from ordinary cares, and by the opportunity
of meditation, could not fail to have a most beneficial religious
effect. But, to give sanction to this precept, the authority of at least
a myth was requisite. I believe it was simply for this reason that the
myth of the six days of creation was preserved. It is expressly cited in
the first delivery of the commandments, as the solemn authority (Exodus
xxxi. 17) for the command. It is remarkable that at the second mention
of the commandment (Deuteronomy v.) no reference is made to the
creation; perhaps, after the complete establishment of Jehovistic ideas
in the minds of the Israelites, they had nearly lost the recollection of
the Elohistic account, and it was not thought desirable to refer to it'
(Airy, 'On the Early Hebrew Scriptures,' p. 17). It must be regarded as
a singular instance of the persistency of myths, if this view be
correct, that a myth which had become obsolete for the Jews between the
time of Moses and that of the writer (whoever he may have been) who
produced the so-called Mosaic book of Deuteronomy, should thereafter
have been revived, and have come to be regarded by the Jews themselves
and by Christians as the Word of God.
[16] Of course it may be argued that nothing in the world is the result
of _mere_ accident, and some may assert that even matters which are
commonly regarded as entirely casual have been specially designed. It
would not be easy to draw the precise line dividing events which all men
would regard as to all intents and purposes accidental from those which
some men would regard as results of special providence. But common sense
draws a sufficient distinction, at least for our present purpose.
[17] This star, called _Thuban_ from the Arabian _al-Thuban_, the
Dragon, is now not very bright, being rated at barely above the fourth
magnitude, but it was formerly the brightest star of the constellation,
as its name indicates. Bayer also assigned to it the first letter of the
Greek alphabet; though this is not absolutely decisive evidence that so
late as his day it retained its superiority over the second magnitude
stars to which Bayer assigned the second and third Greek letters. In the
year 2790 B.C., or thereabouts, the star was at its nearest to the true
north pole of the heavens, the diameter of the little circle in which it
then moved being considerably less than one-fourth the apparent diameter
of the moon. At that time the star must have seemed to all ordinary
observation an absolutely fixed centre, round which all the other stars
revolved. At the time when the pyramid was built this star was about
sixty times farther removed from the true pole, revolving in a circle
whose apparent diameter was about seven times as great as the moon's.
Yet it would still be regarded as a very useful pole-star, especially as
there are very few conspicuous stars in the neighbourhood.
[18] Even that skilful astronomer Hipparchus, who may be justly called
the father of observational astronomy, overlooked this peculiarity,
which Ptolemy would seem to have been the first to recognise.
[19] It would only be by a lucky accident, of course, that the direction
of the slant tunnel's axis and that of the vertical from the selected
central point would lie in the same vertical plane. The object of the
tunnelling would, in fact, be to determine how far apart the vertical
planes through these points lay, and the odds would be great against the
result proving to be zero.
[20] It may, perhaps, occur to the reader to inquire what diameter of
the earth, supposed to be a perfect sphere, would be derived from a
degree of latitude measured with absolute accuracy near latitude 30 deg.
A degree of latitude measured in polar regions would indicate a diameter
greater even than the equatorial; one measured in equatorial regions
would indicate a diameter less even than the polar. Near latitude 30 deg.
the measurement of a degree of latitude would indicate a diameter very
nearly equal to the true polar diameter of the earth. In fact, if it
could be proved that the builders of the pyramid used for their unit of
length an exact subdivision of the polar diameter, the inference would
be that, while the coincidence itself was merely accidental, their
measurement of a degree of latitude in their own country had been
singularly accurate. By an approximate calculation I find that, taking
the earth's compression at 1-300, the diameter of the earth, estimated
from the accurate measurement of a degree of latitude in the
neighbourhood of the great pyramid, would have made the sacred
cubit--taken at one 20,000,000th of the diameter--equal to 24.98 British
inches; a closer approximation than Professor Smyth's to the estimated
mean probable value of the sacred cubit.
[21] It is, however, almost impossible to mark any limits to what may be
regarded as evidence of design by a coincidence-hunter. I quote the
following from the late Professor De Morgan's _Budget of Paradoxes_.
Having mentioned that 7 occurs less frequently than any other digit in
the number expressing the ratio of circumference to diameter of a
circle, he proceeds: 'A correspondent of my friend Piazzi Smyth notices
that 3 is the number of most frequency, and that 3-1/7 is the nearest
approximation to it in simple digits. Professor Smyth, whose work on
Egypt is paradox of a very high order, backed by a great quantity of
useful labour, the results of which will be made available by those who
do not receive the paradoxes, is inclined to see confirmation for some
of his theory in these phenomena.' In passing, I may mention as the most
singular of these accidental digit relations which I have yet noticed,
that in the first 110 digits of the square root of 2, the number 7
occurs more than twice as often as either 5 or 9, which each occur eight
times, 1 and 2 occurring each nine times, and 7 occurring no less than
eighteen times.
[22] I have substituted this value in the article 'Astronomy,' of the
_British Encyclopaedia_, for the estimate formerly used, viz. 95,233,055
miles. But there is good reason for believing that the actual distance
is nearly 92,000,000 miles.
[23] It may be matched by other coincidences as remarkable and as little
the result of the operation of any natural law. For instance, the
following strange relation, introducing the dimensions of the sun
himself, nowhere, so far as I have yet seen, introduced among pyramid
relations, even by pyramidalists: 'If the plane of the ecliptic were a
true surface, and the sun were to commence rolling along that surface
towards the part of the earth's orbit where she is at her mean distance,
while the earth commenced rolling upon the sun (round one of his great
circles), each globe turning round in the same time,--then, by the time
the earth had rolled its way once round the sun, the sun would have
almost exactly reached the earth's orbit. This is only another way of
saying that the sun's diameter exceeds the earth's in almost exactly the
same degree that the sun's distance exceeds the sun's diameter.'
[24] It has been remarked that, though Hipparchus had the enormous
advantage of being able to compare his own observations with those
recorded by the Chaldaeans, he estimated the length of the year less
correctly than the Chaldaeans. It has been thought by some that the
Chaldaeans were acquainted with the true system of the universe, but I do
not know that there are sufficient grounds for this supposition.
Diodorus Siculus and Apollonius Myndius mention, however, that they were
able to predict the return of comets, and this implies that their
observations had been continued for many centuries with great care and
exactness.
[25] The language of the modern Zadkiels and Raphaels, though
meaningless and absurd in itself, yet, as assuredly derived from the
astrology of the oldest times, may here be quoted. (It certainly was not
invented to give support to the theory I am at present advocating.) Thus
runs the jargon of the tribe: 'In order to illustrate plainly to the
reader what astrologers mean by the "houses of heaven," it is proper for
him to bear in mind the four cardinal points. The eastern, facing the
rising sun, has at its centre the first grand angle or first house,
termed the Horoscope or ascendant. The northern, opposite the region
where the sun is at midnight, or the _cusp_ of the lower heaven or
nadir, is the Imum Coeli, and has at its centre the fourth house. The
western, facing the setting sun, has at its centre the third grand angle
or seventh house or descendant. And lastly, the southern, facing the
noonday sun, has at its centre the astrologer's tenth house, or
Mid-heaven, the most powerful angle or house of honour.' 'And although,'
proceeds the modern astrologer, 'we cannot in the ethereal blue discern
these lines or terminating divisions, both reason and experience assure
us that they certainly exist; therefore the astrologer has certain
grounds for the choice of his four angular houses' (out of twelve in
all) 'which, resembling the palpable demonstration they afford, are in
the astral science esteemed the most powerful of the whole. '--Raphael's
_Manual of Astrology_.
[26] Arabian writers give the following account of Egyptian progress in
astrology and the mystical arts: Nacrawasch, the progenitor of Misraim,
was the first Egyptian prince, and the first of the magicians who
excelled in astrology and enchantment. Retiring into Egypt with his
family of eighty persons, he built Essous, the most ancient city of
Egypt, and commenced the first dynasty of Misraimitish princes, who
excelled as cabalists, diviners, and in the mystic arts generally. The
most celebrated of the race were Naerasch, who first represented by
images the twelve signs of the zodiac; Gharnak, who openly described the
arts before kept secret; Hersall, who first worshipped idols; Sehlouk,
who worshipped the sun; Saurid (King Saurid of Ibn Abd Alkohm's
account), who erected the first pyramids and invented the magic mirror;
and Pharaoh, the last king of the dynasty, whose name was afterwards
taken as a kingly title, as Caesar later became a general imperial title.
[27] It is noteworthy how Swedenborg here anticipates a saying of
Laplace, the greatest mathematician the world has known, save Newton
alone. Newton's remark that he seemed but as a child who had gathered a
few shells on the shores of ocean, is well known. Laplace's words, '_Ce
que nous connaissons est peu de chose; ce que nous ignorons est
immense_,' were not, as is commonly stated, his last. De Morgan gives
the following account of Laplace's last moments, on the authority of
Laplace's friend and pupil, the well-known mathematician Poisson: 'After
the publication (in 1825) of the fifth volume of the Mecanique Celeste,
Laplace became gradually weaker, and with it musing and abstracted. He
thought much on the great problems of existence, and often muttered to
himself, "_Qu'est-ce que c'est que tout cela!_" After many alternations
he appeared at last so permanently prostrated that his family applied to
his favourite pupil, M. Poisson, to try to get a word from him. Poisson
paid a visit, and after a few words of salutation, said, "J'ai une bonne
nouvelle a vous annoncer: on a recu au Bureau des Longitudes une lettre
d'Allemagne annoncant que M. Bessel a verifie par l'observation vos
decouvertes theoriques sur les satellites de Jupiter." Laplace opened
his eyes and answered with deep gravity. "_L'homme ne poursuit que des
chimeres._" He never spoke again. His death took place March 5, 1827.'
[28] The reason assigned by Swedenborg is fanciful enough. 'In the
spiritual sense,' he says, 'a horse signifies the intellectual principle
formed from scientifics, and as they are afraid of cultivating the
intellectual faculties by worldly sciences, from this comes an influx of
fear. They care nothing for scientifics which are of human erudition.'
[29] Similar reasoning applies to the moons of Jupiter, and it so
chances that the result in their case comes out exactly the same as in
the case of Saturn; all the Jovian moons, if full together, would
reflect only the sixteenth part of the light which we receive from the
full moon. It is strange that scientific men of considerable
mathematical power have used the argument from design apparently
supplied by the satellites, without being at the pains to test its
validity by the simple mathematical calculations necessary to determine
the quantity of light which these bodies can reflect to the planets
round which they travel. Brewster and Whewell, though they took opposite
sides in the controversy about other inhabited worlds, agreed in this.
Brewster, of course, holding the theory that all the planets are
inhabited, very naturally accepted the argument from design in this
case. Whewell, in opposing that theory, did not dwell at all upon the
subjects of the satellites. But in his 'Bridgewater Treatise on
Astronomy and General Physics,' he says, 'Taking only the ascertained
cases of Venus, the Earth, Jupiter, and Saturn, we conceive that a
person of common understanding will be strongly impressed with the
persuasion that the satellites are placed in the system with a view to
compensate for the diminished light of the sun at greater distances.
Mars is an exception; some persons might conjecture from this case that
the arrangement itself, like other useful arrangements, has been brought
about by some wider law which we have not yet detected. But whether or
not we entertain such a guess (it can be nothing more), we see in other
parts of creation so many examples of apparent exceptions to rules,
which are afterwards found to be capable of explanation, or to be
provided for by particular contrivances, that no one familiar with such
contemplations will, by one anomaly, be driven from the persuasion that
the end which the arrangements of the satellites seem suited to answer
is really one of the ends of their creation.'