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1 


THE 

FAMILIAR    ASTROLOGER; 

AN  EASY  GUIDE 
IATB     DBSTXNV,   *   FOnttllOWIJISOl, 

SECBET  AND  WONDKRFl.l.  PROPERTIES  OP  NATURE. 


Eab«Ili»bed  *ltb  e»rioo<  EngratiHf  ■  on  Steel,  Mil  ■nneroui  Wood  Cult. 

Br  RAPHAEL. 

itjofLtndn.e/t 


Aafmrtfiat  rrlrkralti  But,  "  TU  A#nh*  it  *ftht  mmfinll  Cmrtif*.'" 


PRINTED  FOR  JOHN  BENNETT. 


THE 


FAMILIAR    ASTROLOGER; 


AN  EASY  GUIDE  TO 


FATS,  DBBTXOT,  **,  TO 


VOWLBOOK 


At  WELL 


SECRET  AND  WONDERFUL  PROPERTIES  OF  NATURE: 


oowrAiwmo  alio 


A  •)m9k.  Mir,  aad  infalllbU  Gaide  to  the 
VMfkMvkift  of  the  four*  Pate  ud 
Outlay  of  any  ladlvMaal.  by  awaas  of  too 
*  Reign  of  the  Plaoett."  Iho  Hoar  or  tbelr 
Birth,  Bad  other  Methods  not  repairing 
'  CaJeaJatioas. 

Ait  of  discovering  foiore 
by  LoU  or  Point*.  Interspersed 
Horoscopes  of  Bsslnent  ud  Re- 


Trtotlnf  to  yoikillw  far  thi  learaoj 
hi  AjcreJogf  eei  Lot*. 

haage  mad  Marrelloes  Tale*,  Legends,  tad 
Ttadnioas.  relating  to  GoesU.ApparlUoB*, 
Aagtls,  Spirit*.  Dnmi,  Wltebes,  Fairka, 

Tradttleaa    relating  to  Chi 
,  and  the 


properties  of  Herbs,  Stone*,  and  Roots ; 
wilt  Direction*  for  forming  T»ilsmans, 
Amulets,  aad  other  woaderful  yet  power- 
fal  Af  ento  la  the  operation  of  Mature. 

Charm  relating  to  Allballov  Bveaad  Bah* 
John's  NlgM.  and  other*  aald  to  csuse 
Lose,  Hatred,  Gced-fottaae,  fcc. 

Ancient  Pi  actiec  of  raising  Spirits  ezptataed. 

Charms  to  discover  Theft  aad  aaaiah  the 

Thief. 

to  Nataral  Phlle- 


Art  of  iBtarprattaf  Preajasjaad 

BUrrtlloaa  aad  Wonderful  Prophecies. 


Zsplaaatlon  of  Oattas,  Soothsayta* .  Aaclrnt 
Augury,  Sibylline  Boohs,  aad  Dlvtaelioa 
of  various  kinds 


Sec.  fcc.  fee. 


WITS  A   PABIBTT  OP  THI  HOPT  YALUABU  AMD   INTBBISTIMO  MATTIB,  MOT 
TO  BB  POUMD   IM  AMY  WOII  OP  TBB  PAST  OB  PMISBMT  TIME. 


EabelliBhed  with  emrioos  Engrmringi  on  Steel,  aad  numerous  Wood  Cuts. 


By  RAPHAEL. 

thmt  eehbfnM  Bee*.  -  The  jt*ftog*r  oftk*  JVfaef eeaU  CmUwmT  m  The  PupuAir 

-The  rrtpkrtic  Mtutnger."  fre.drc.  Afeusher  o/f A* 
tip  e/  &eade»,  if  ik*  PAUoseehtcel  Aprewme/Me 
#/  M9*rmi  e/Aer  Itmmed  jt—cUUim*. 


PRINTED  FOR  JOHN  BENNETT, 

THRKX-TUN   PASSAGB,  IVY   LANK,   PATBRNU8TER    ROW, 

AMD.  SOLD   BT   ALL   BOOKBELLKBS. 


1831. 


73 


44 1  tell  thee, 
There's  not  a  pulse  beats  in  the  human  frame 
That  is  Dot  gorera'U  by  the  stars  above  us. 
The  blood  that  fills  our  veins,  in  all  Us  ebb 
And  flow,  is  sway*d  by  them  as  certainly 
As  are  the  restless  tides  of  the  salt  sea 
By  the  resplendent  moon  ;  and  at  thy  birth 
Thy  mother's  eye  gazed  not  more  steadfast! > 
On  thee,  than  did  the  itar  that  rules  thy /ate, 
Showering  upon  thy  head  an  influence 
Malignant  or  benign/' 

II.  Neble,  Ksq. 


W.  M.  AND  8.  KNIGHT,  PRINTERS, 
BISHOP'S  COURT,  OLD  BAILEY. 


FAMILIAR  ASTROLOGER. 


INTRODUCTORY  REMARKS    RELATIVE    TO    THB    SCOPS  AKD  DX0I0N  Of 

TBS  PRESENT  WORE. 

Senate**  the  least  complex,  Arts  the  most  simple  and  common, 
appear  difficult  when  in  their  infancy,  as  long  aa  they  are  taught 
only  by  words  or  writings,  and  before  experience  and  daOy  prac- 
tice hare  rendered  them  familiar.  What  numerous  dangers  and 
difficulties  might  be  started  against  all  the  daily  enterprises  of 
men,  were  it  not  undeniable  that  they  are  performed  with  facility ! 
How  might  not  the  possibility  of  making  a  watch,  and  stOl  more  a 
watch  to  wear  in  a  ring,  or  of  sailing  oyer  the  vast  ocean,  and  of 
numberless  other  arts  and  inventions,  be  disputed,  did  we  not  behold 
fhem  constantly  practised !  How  many  arguments,  likewise,  might 
be  urged  against  the  practice  of  Physic !  And  though  some  of 
them  may  be  unanswerable,  how  many  are  the  reverse !  How 
many  difficulties  are  in  the  way  of  every  project  or  invention! 
And  yet  it  is  possible  to  surmount  the  greater  part  of  these 
obstacles,  which,  in  a  physical  way,  we  have  to  oombat,  where 
those  same  Arts  and  Sciences  are  concerned. 


This  should  teach  us,  thai  we  ought  never  to  decide  precipitately, 
without  carefully  examining  respecting  the  possibility,  the  ease,  or 
difficulty  of  what  we  have  never  tried.  The  easiest  thing  imaginable 
may  be  difficult  to  one  who  has  not,  by  repeated  trials,  acquired 
the  power  of  performing  it ;  whereas  the  greatest  difficulties  vanish 
before  exertion  and  perseverance.  And  why  may  not  Astrology, 
like  every  oiner  ataiyv  receive  nmprovemeat,'  acquire^  fixed  prin- 
ciples, and  gradually  overthrow  the  specious  reasonings  of  its 
opposers,  to  their  utter  confusion  and  disgrace  ? 

All  Sciences  are,  more  or  less,  surrounded  with  difficulties ;  and 
is  ft,  tnen>  any  wonder  that  Astrology,  which,  above  all  other  arts, 
claims  pre-eminence,  on  account' of  its  dignified  pretensions,  should 
be  hedged  round  with  doubts  and  mists,  which  are  rendered  much 
mwegpps*  bj  the  prevailing  prejudices:  of  bigotry  and  JMXtdvlity  ? 
Yet  it  maj  be  fairly  jajd  JhatAstrplogy,  of  all  other  Sciences,  is 
the  most  sublime,  curious,  and  beautiful  1 

i    t**  *•  **    »•  ■»»•-'  t  •  »^i  •»       *  •      **  *«*  •*     »«••.".     »•  ■  i  *i 
s  tt  mtekfc  a  nqew^rf  tfce  Univarje  at  large,  we,  shall  find  Oat 

4 

thm>are'fnan?  injaterjes  xof -*»  iinporibnt^iitoro.,  diaclosad  to*  the 
panatyaftsg  And  carious  eye., of  man,  wbick*r^  leaf  .uaefalAan,  a 
^no^tledge.oJf  futuiity.^Jtfa*  not. Science  Jaughtjbim  to  trace,  the 
path-  oftGosaatSy  and  4o42fdcjdateJhtk  orbits  ? .  JHaa jhe^uofc  |>laced 
the  telescope  in  bis*  .hand,  and  diacovered.to  him^throiigtuts  tube> 
tbe,J>lsn*tM9«  I*wa  andiJfetions?  Has ,»he  not  enabled  himJte 
na^thecjaamea  and  signatures  of  each 4>r kin jthe^tarry  a^ncaie? 
Whv,,Aeiv»iaonW/^iiiowW^L,of  jthejr  power  and  influence 
over*  the  mind  and  body  of  man  be  neglected  ? 

?        ''.VI;      I   ,     ^i-Zm       i,  f  i-  r  J'  «j  y  *-* 

The  human  mind  is,  in  a  manner,  governed  by  authority.    The 


si  iimnVi  mjtru.mjgit  with  the  multitnde  than 
reason.  EveaiaJaings  mmjcbv>b*loag  to  ,the  province  of thc.un- 
nWamHng,  trampUc— ag  the  greatest  swap,  To  awake,  there- 
fore, the  attention  of  airJteadars,  and.  *  mrakWat  the  seiactijue, 
the  mora  enlightened  with  popular  arguments,  calculated  to  per- 
suade weaker  minds,  I  shall,  is  die  following  pages,  produce 
anecdotes  and  authorities  (relative  to  the  truth  of  Astrological 
presages),  some  store  or  less  important,  ofwim  and  homed  men, 
in  whose  company  I  am  under  no  apprehension  of  exposing  myself 
to  the  ridiculous  observations  of  some  persons  more  inclined  to 
laugh  than  to  think. 


I  hare  already  treated  of  the  more  abstruse  and  difficult  part  of 
the  Astral  Science,  in  a  manner  which  has  memred  the  pnblk 
attention*  The  present  Work  is  more  calculated  for  the  general 
(bet  not  less  judicious)  reader.  It  will  display  those  Secrets  of 
flanetary  Influence,  to  which  off  are  subject,  in  a  manner  entirely 
devoid  of  difficulty,  mingling  "instruction  with  delight,"  and 
ffiphiaing  hidden  troths  by  novel  and  familiar  illustrations;  and 
thos  it  cannot  fail  to  be  an  instructive  and  amusing  companion,  for 
all  who  are  final  of  tracing  the  mysterious  and  wonderful  (but  no 
leas  certain)  laws  and  properties  of  nature. 

The  marreBous  Properties  of  Herbs,  Stones,  and  Roots — the 
curious  and  occult  M*"—^  of  certain  Constellations — the  In- 
terpretations of  Dreams — and  the  Display  of  ancient  Tradition* , 
Legends,  and  Superstitions,  relative  to  the  former  belief  in  Charm*  f 
Enchantments,  and  such  Kke  curious  Arts,— which  are,  for  the  most 
part,  gathered  from  costly  and  partly  inaccessible  sources  of  in- 
nnrmationv    the  Author  flatters  himself  are  too  valuable,  to  need 


either  comment  or  reflection ;  and  the  Reader  may  rest  assured, 
that  as  the  Work  begins,  so  shall  it  be  continued,  and  so  con- 
cluded,— the  Proprietors  being  determined  to  render  it  the  most 
carious  and  entertaining  Work  ever  published  in  that  iprand  em- 
porium of  Literature — the  British  Metropolis. 

Lonaun,  1831. 


.\ 


TO  THE  ERUDITE 

AUTHOR   OF   DARNLEY,    RICHL1EU, 
PHILIP    AUGUSTUS,  &c.  &c. 

Cfcw  Volume 

IS  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED, 

As  a  small  token  of  esteem  for  the  writer ;  and  as 
a  faint,  but  sincere  attempt,  to  express  the  great 
gratification 

UapHth 

in  common  with  his  Friends  and  Brother  Astro- 
logers, has  received  in  the  perusal  of  the  different 
works,  to  which  the  aforesaid  justly-celebrated 
author's  signature  has  been  appended. 

London, 
75,  Cootie  Street  East,  Oxford  Start, 
November  16,  161 1. 


a 


DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  BINDER. 

1.  Tub  Hieroglypiiical  Frontispiece — to  face  Title, 

2.  The  Witch  of  Eye — to  fact  Page  135. 

3.  Palmistry — to  face  Page  AS3. 

4.  TnoMAS  Perks  Raising  a  Spirit — to  face  Page  218. 

5.  Celestial  Magic— to/ae*  Page 549. 

6.  Alchemical  Arcana— to  face  Page  380. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


page 
Astrologer,  the,  7, 50, 114, 109, 228, 846,358,406,  488,499, 

666,673,686,002,705,719 
Apparition  of  a  murdered  man  .  -      20 

Angary,  ancient,         -               .               .  -      48 

Alkahest,  the  famous,                 .               .  -      71 

Apparitions  in  Turkey                -  J2fl 

Apparitions  before  death            -  127 

Amethyst,  the,            -  133 

Astrologer  at  the  funeral  of  Von  Weber  .    227 

Astrologer's  Creed                      .  333 
Astrological  Authors                  ...    714 

Astrological  Conversations         -               .  370, 451, 475 

Astrologer  at  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas  401 

Agrippa,  life  of,          -               -               .  -    406 
Ancient  Enchantment                 ...    426 

Astrologer,  King's  visit  to  the,                   -  -    513 

American  Antiquities                                 -  539 

Astronomy                  -  531 

Animal  Magnetism  .    304 

Ancient  Superstition                   -               .  .    306 

Astrological  Correspondence  .    342 

Astrologer  and  the  Demon         -               .  •    .    374 

B 

Bibliomancy               -  -  -      14 

Bleeding,  Amulet  for,  -  133 

Books,  to  preserve,  ...    166 

Burning  Mirror          -  242 

Barometer,  a  simple  one,  .  .               ,    347 

5,  the,              -  -  -              -867 


page 

Birth-day  events         ... 

-    364 

Biography  of  Astrologers 

-    404 

Bohemian  Astrologer 

C 
Correspondence  with  Spirits 

-    418 

-      23 

Charms  to  bind  a  Thief 

-      45 

Charms  to  stop  bleeding 

-     ib. 

Card  San  Dial 

-       09 

Charms  for  Love         ... 

-    101 

Charms  for  Hooping  Congh        -               * 

-      ib. 

Conjunctions,  rale  for,               -              • 

-    122 

Celandine,  the  herb,    ... 

-    ISO 

Custanry,  the  herb,     ... 

-    131 

Coral,  the,                   ... 

-    138 

Chemical  shrub           ... 

-    163 

Charm,  legendary,       ... 

-    217 

Cluricaune,  the,           ... 

-    265 

Celestial  Magic            -                 ■ 

542, 615 

Combustion                 - 

D 
Devil's  banquet,  the,                  -               * 

-    655 

-    124 

Devil,  Cromwell's  compact  with, 

E 
Enchanted  Statue       ... 

-    188 

-      27 

Eclipse,  effects  of,       - 

-      33 

Earth,  new  theory  of. 

-    162 

Electric  Eels 

-    164 

Enchantment,  mystic, 

-    218 

Electrical  Kite            ... 

-    246 

Elves  in  Ireland          ... 

-    260 

Elements  of  Astrology                -               • 

-    471 

Evil  Eye,  the, 

-    668 

F 

Fortunate  nnd  Unfortunate  hours  of  each  day 

8 

Fascinate  birds,  to,      ... 

-      06 

Faces,  Death-like,       ... 

-      97 

Figure  of  Triplicity     ... 

-    112 

Fortutiatr  ditys             -                .                . 

-    117 

page 
Fascinate  dogs,  to,  -  .  -    13JJ 

Fragments  from  old  authors        -  • 

Fairy,  appearance  of, 


Fairy  legends 
Fairy  land 
Fairy  wife,  the 
Fairy  legends 
French  astrologer 
French  mathematician 


173 
198 
260 
200 
277 
391 
410 
413 


Fatal  Horoscopes  421, 519, 538,  612, 629, 660 

G 

Geomancy  -  28, 103, 176, 349, 457, 640 

Ghost  story,  a,  195 

H 

Horoscopes,  remarkable,  -               -               -      58 

Henbane,  the  herb,      -  131 

Hand  Dial                    -  103 

Horoscope,  solar,         -  249 

I 

Influence  of  the  Moon  •  -  -11 

Jew,  the  wandering,                    -  165 

Judge,  Populus  and  Via              ...  179 

Invocate  the  dead,  to,                                                -  215 

Invocating  Fairy  Queen                            •  273 

Judge,  Acquisitio  and  Amissio,                  -               .  349 

Judge,  Conjtmctio  and  Career,                   -               -  457 

Judge,  Fortnna  Major  and  Minor,             -               •  643 

Indian  witchcraft  and  magic      -  683 

L 

Lunar  aspects,  rule  for,              ...  120 

LiDy,  astrologically  gathered      -  131 

Legendary  charm        -  222 

life,  elixir  of,  234 

Lilly,  life  of                  -               -               -               -  415 

M 

Marvellous  properties  of  herbs,  stones,  and  roots  18,  ISO, 

233 
Marvellous  dream       -  -22 


VI 


page 

Miscellanies                -                32, 69, 162, 242, 529, 642 

Midsummer  Charm 

- 

-      47 

Magical  Suffumigations 

« 

-      48 

Marriage  Omen 

- 

•      46 

Magic  vessel,  the, 

- 

-      96 

Misleto,  the, 

- 

-    131 

Magical  experiment 

- 

-    215 

Mandrake,  the, 

- 

-    233 

Marvellous  enchantment 

„ 

-    428 

Michael  Scott 

• 

-    430 

Magic  Watch 

N 
Natural  Magic 

- 

-    433 

m 

25,96 

Name  of  Napoleon 

• 

-      32 

Narrative  of  an  Astrologer 

- 

•      33 

Nativities     - 

• 

-      55 

Nativity  of  Miss  Stockdale 

- 

.      56 

•    •    •  of  the  Rev.  E.  Irving 

• 

-    114 

Nature  of  the  Sun 

• 

-    168 

Nativity  of  Lord  Porchester 

- 

-    169 

Necromancy,  African, 

- 

.    193 

Necromantic  traditions 

- 

-    212 

Nativity  of  Corder 

- 

-    223 

.    .    .  of  W.  P.  Young 

- 

-    3K> 

...  of  Xenocrates 

• 

-    3S8 

...  of  the  living  Alchemist 

- 

-    887 

Neapolitan  Astrologer 

- 

-    412 

Nativity  of  a  Warrior 

- 

.    421 

...  of  Princess  Olive 

• 

-    452 

,    .  of  an  Insane  person 

- 

-    477 

.    .  of  D.  Parkes,  student 

- 

-    602 

.    •  of  Miss  Fanny  Wright 

- 

-    511) 

.    .  of  Miss  Smart 

• 

•    538 

.    .  of  a  Suicide 

• 

-    612 

.    .  of  an  Infant 

• 

-    629 

.    •  of  a  Child  burnt  to  death 

• 

-    660 

.    .  of  Mr.  R.  Dolben 

- 

-    666 

•     < 

.    .  of  Henry  V. 

- 

-    705 

< 

►    < 

.    .,  a  curious  one, 

- 

-    763 

VII 

page 

Nativity  of  a  Murderer  .  -  -686 

.    .  of  sadden  death  ...    092 

.     .  ofZadkiel  -  -  -    715 

Napoleon's  Tomb        -  -    689 

O 
(famous  Requiem       -  192 

ObeahMan  .  -  -198 

OH  legend  of  the  signs  -  212 

ODonoghue,  legend  of,  270 

Olive,  Princess,  ....    452 

Oracle  of  dreams         ....    G61 

P 

Possessed  one,  the,    -               -               -                -  39 

from  Moon's  age  -  -98 

t,  the  herb,                   ...  jgo 

Pythagorean  days      ....  HJO 

Porchester,  Lord,        ....  iqq 

Planetary  Alphabet                    -                               -  207 

Penny -royal,  the  herb,               ...  233 

Puzzle,  mechanical     -               -               -               -  245 

Pkooka,  the  -  -  -  268 
Philosopher's  Stone  •  -  490,632 
Palmistry,  Metoposcopy,  and  Physiognomy  523, 553 
Prophecies                  -               -               -     535,665,708 

Planisphere,  the,        «...  641 

Peiks  Thomas,  story  of,             -               -               -  694 

Poles  of  the  Houses                   ...  709 

R 

Boom  in  flames,  to  make  appear,                -  71 

Bing  of  strength           -  74 

Roman  astrologer        -               .               .               .  429 

Bafonn                                                                     -  614 

Bed  Bam,  the,             .  659 

S 

Sleep  without  danger                  -                              *  130 

Stge,  wonders  o£                        -  132 

Seven  Planets,  fiunes  of  134 

SpQ,  necromantic,  -  217 
Sprits,  to 


Vlll 

page 

Spring  root  ...    23C 

Sol  in  Aries                 -  -               *               -    249 

.  Taurus              -  %                      ..               „    250 

.  Gemini              -  251 

•  Cancer               -  252 

.Leo                   -  -               -               -253 

.  Virgo,  Libra  -                                    254 

.  Scorpio             -  255 

.  Sagittarius        -  256 

.  Capricorn          -  257 
.  Aquarius          .....    258 

.  Pisces               -  „                -                .    259 

Soldier  and  Astrologer  -                                    417 

Scottish  Astrologer  ...    4xg 

Secrets  in  Geomancy  ...    4g0 

T 

Traditions  and  Superstitions  of  former  times  13,  45,  98 

207,248 

Talisman  of  Constantine             -               .  73 

Talisman  of  St.  Barnabas           -               -  75 

Talisman,  Hebrew,  the,               -  102 

Tylwith  Teg,  the,         -               *                              •  275 

Teigue  of  the  Lee        -  391 

Translation  of  light          "           -               -               -  652 

Theorem  for  Working  the  Celestial  Poles,  Raphael's,  713 

V 

Vervain                      -               -  -  -  132 

Velocity  of  the  Earth's  motion  -  -  166 

Volcano,  artificial,                    -  -  -  243 

W 

World  of  Spirits,  the,  20, 124, 188,  426, 542, 615, 094 

Wheel  of  Pythagoras  ■>  -  62,157 

Witch  of  Eye  -  -  *  135,407 

Wanderer,  the,  -  306 

Wonders  of  Physics  -  688 

X 

Xenocrates,  correspondence  -  -    347 


THE   ASTROLOGER. 


No  I. 


Under  this  bead  I  shall  introduce  to  the  notice 
of  my  readers  a  variety  of  extracts  from  rare  and 
curious  authors;  some  of  which  exist  only  in  manu- 
script, and  omen  are  either  out  of  print,  or  locked 
up  in  the  libraries  of  the  wealthy  and  the  learned. 
They  will  uniformly  consist  of  the  most  simple  and 
easy  methods  for  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  planetary 
influence  that  could  possibly  be  devised,  and  wholly 
devoid  of  the  usual  and  necessary  scientific  calcula- 
tions, attendant  upon  casting  nativities,  and  horary 
schemes  of  heaven. 


THE  FORTUNATE  AND  UNFORTUNATE 

HOURS 

OF  EACH  DAY  I2T  THE  WEEK, 
FOR  BUSINESS, TRAVELLING, MARRIAGE,&C.&C.&C. 

For  Ever. 

€i  Know  also,  that  there  are  moreover,  in  every  day 
of  the  week,  certain  hours  of  the  day  and  of  the 
night,  which,  by  the  reigning  force  of  the  Seven 
Planets,  are  said  by  the  learned  of  all  ages  to  be 
roost  wonderfully  productive  of  fortunate  or  unfor- 
tunate events ;  even  as  the  wise  man  hath  uttered 
in  the  words  where  he  speaks,  that  *  to  ull  things 
thtfre  happeneth  a  season,  and  a1  time  to  do  every 
work  under  the  heaveiv.'  These  hours  are  found 
to  work  many  marvels,  and!  to  array  the  observer 
thereof  with  the  goodness  of  fortune;  so  that,'  by 
the  mere  knowledge  of  these  good  and  evil  hours, 
he  shall,  as  it  were,  have  fortune  on  his  side:  *  For 
although  all  times  are  beautiful  in  their  seasons, 
yet,  the  forces  of  the  wandering  fires  of  heaven, 


9 

when  rightly  obtained,  are  of  wonderful  and  rare 
efficacy ;  and  thus  are  they  to  be  chosen. 

"  Thou  shalt  begin  thy  observances  as  follows:  — 

THE  GOOD  tANI>  EVIL    HOURS    OF  MjONDAT. 

"  The  Second  hour fefter^n-rteing  i&etri/  and  unfor- 
tunate; it  begins  when  the  space  of  one  hour  after 
sun-rise'  is  complete :  dls6  the  hour  before  mid- 
mght— avoid  <md  shun  each  of  th (set-  neither marry,, 
plant,  sow,  build,  travel,  voyage^  or  bargain  for 
lucre,  if  thou  wouldest  hope  for  success  in  thy 
undertakings ;  for  their  reign  'is  evil,  and  Saturn 
lordships  their  duration.  ''■..,'■ 

u  The  fortunate  hours  of  each  Monday  (for  ever} 
we  the  third  hour,  accounted  from  sunrise;  the 
hour  immediately  before  noon,  (i.  e.  from  eleven  to: 
twelve  of  the  clock,'  in  the  -day);  and  also'twa 
hours  before  midnight:  choose  these-  for  4hy  works, 
In  marriage,  business;  travelling,  and  undertakings* 
of  magnitude.  The  heavenly  influences  will  then 
favour  thee. 

"  THE  GOOD  AND  EVIL  HOURS  OF    TUESDAY.. 

"  The  first  hour,  accounted  from  the  time  the 
sun  rises,  is  unfortunate;  rashness  and  quarrel- 
someness are  its  character;  strife  and  contention 
prevail  therein :  in  like  manner  is  the  hour  before 
noon-day.  Do  not,  therefore,  begin  any  under- 
taking at  these  evil  times;  for  the  stars  are  then 
against  thee.  * 

"The  most  fortunate  htars  of  Tuesday,  are  the 
hour  immediately  after  noon-day,  (which  is  from 
twelve  to*  one  o'clock),  and  the  hour  before 
night* ' 


10 


WTHE  GOOD  AND  EVIL  HOURS  OF  WEDNESDAY. 

"  On  Wednesday,  avoid,  as  endued  with  the  evil 
influences  of  the  planets,  the  third  hour  reckoned 
from  sunrise,  and  the  hour  next  before  sunset; 
for  little  can  prosper  that  is  performed  therein: 
and  choose  as  fortunate,  the  second  hour  after  sun- 
set, and  the  hour  before  midnight.  In  love  and 
marriage  these  are  pre-eminently  fortunate. 

"THE  GOOD  AND  EVIL  HOURS  OF  THURSDAY. 

"The  hour  after  noon-day  (from  twelve  to  one 
o'clock)  is  particularly  unfortunate :  neither  marry, 
sow,  plant,  voyage,  merchandize,  nor  seek  for  riches 
or  profit.  Neither  are  the  first  or  second  hours  after 
sunset  any  better.  But  the  first  hour  after  sunrise, 
at  any  season  or  time  of  the  year,  is  pre-eminently 
endued  with  the  force  of  benevolent  stars.  What- 
ever thou  doest  is  likely  to  prosper. 

"THE  GOOD  AND  EVIL  HOURS  OF   FRIDAY. 

"Herein  do  nothing,  especially  in  love,  friend- 
ship, bargaining,  planting,  or  marriage,  in  the  hour 
next  before  noon,  or  the  hour  before  midnight. 
Stars  of  malignant  fortune  reign  at  those  periods : 
but  the  second  hour  before  noon,  and  the  hour  next 
before  sunset — choose  those  as  fortunate. 

"THE  GOOD  AND   EVIL  HOURS  OF  SATURDAY. 

"The  first  hour  after  sunrise,  and  the  second 
hour  after  noon-day  (from  one  to  two  o'clock)  are 
unfortunate:  it  is  in  vain  to  expect  aught  of 
good  will  happen :  the  ancient  wise  men  rejected 
them,    as   pernicious  and  baneful  in  efficacy.     In 


II 

travelling,   marriage,   and  business,  let  them  be 
avoided. 

"The  fortunate  hours  of  Saturday,  are  the  second 
hour  after  sunrise,  and  the  last  hour  before  sunset. 

"THE  GOOD  AND  EVIL  HOURS  OF  SUNDAY, 

"  The  unfortunate  hours,  are  the  hour  next  after 
noon,  and  the  last  hour  of  the  day,  before  the  sun 
Bets.  Foolish,  indeed,  is  the  adventurer  who  begins 
his  enterprises  therein :  but,  if  thou  wiliest  good 
fortune  to  attend  thee,  choose  the  hour  before  noon- 
day, and  the  hour  next  following  after  sunset 
Work  in  these,  and  expect  to  prosper." 

From  a  very  ancient  Manuscript. 

It  may  be  proper  to  observe,  that  the  times  of 
sunrise  and  sunset  are  easily  known  either  by 
Moore's,  or  any  other  Almanack.  Thus  the  above 
extract  cannot  fail  to  be  acceptable  to  those  who 
have  not  time  to  spare  for  calculating  the  horoscope 
of  the  time.  The  manuscript  does  not  state  the 
reasons,  in  a  scientific  way,  for  the  foregoing  elec 
tions ;  but  this  alone  should  not  militate  against  its 
authenticity,  when  it  is  considered  that  the  Arabians, 
who  chiefly  followed  the  horary  system  ef  the 
planets,  were  renowned  for  skilful  prognostications. 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  THE  MOON, 

IN  AFFAIR8  OF  IMPORTANCE  AND  MAGNITUDE 

According  as  she  is  Increasing,  or  in  the  Wane. 

Not  only  does  the  moon  claim  the  most  powerful 
pre-eminence,  in  every  part  of  Astrological  Science 


12 

whether  as  it  relates  to  the  fate  of  the  new-born 
infant,  or  to  the  fate  of  any  individual  enterprise  ; 
but  those  who  are  skilful  in  husbandry  well  know 
that  plants  or  herbs  which  are  sown,  or  even  trees 
which  are  planted  in  the  decrease  or  wane  of  the 
moon,  seldom  thrive,  or  afford  hopes  of  fruitfulness. 
But  my  readers  are  not  aware  that  her  occult 
influence  extends  even  to  affairs  of  business  in  u 
general  way.  Therefore,  let  those  who  would  have 
any  pursuit  or  undertaking  successful,  observe  the 
course  of  the  moon ;  and,  above  all  things,  begin 
nothing  of  consequence  in  the  decrease,  which  is  from 
the  second  day  of  the  full  moon  to  the  next  new 
inbon  (which,  the  commonest  almanack  will  show) ; 
fbr  long  experience  proves,  that,  with  very  few 
objections,  there  does  not  exist  half  the  chanca  of 
success  to  any  pursuit  during  that  time ;  and,  on  the 
contrary,  affairs  and  business  of  any  kind,  which  are 
began  in  the  increase  ^of  the  moon,  that  is,  from  .the 
second  day  after  the  new  moon  to  the  time  of  /the 
full,  have  a  far  better  prospect  of.  success,  allowing 
for  natural  obstacles,  than  at  the  opposite  periods 

Thisj  if  well  understood  and  duly  observed,- may 
save  a  world  of  trouble ;  and  it  is  a  singular  fact, 
that  nearly  all  the  unsuccessful  literary  publications, 
especially  newspapers  and  periodicals,  which  are  so 
continually  appearing,  and  as  constantly  failing,  are 
ushered  forth  to  public  notice  while  the  moon  is  in 
her  decrease ;  I  leave  this  to  the  notice  and  verifica- 
tion of,  my  readers.— It  is  a  fact  denying  contra- 
diction, I  can  assure  them ;  and  a  slight  observation 
of  events  will  enable  them  to  prove  it.  The  reason 
for  which,  in  an  astrological  point  of  view,  is,  be- 
cause the  moon  signifies  not  only  the  community  at 


13 

large,  of  every  nation,  but  also  those,  changes  in 
fashionable  and  popular  opinion  which.*  result  from 
no  apparent  origin ;  but  which,  although  whimsical, 
are  yet  too  powerful1  for  a  thinking  person,  well 
acquainted  with  the  foibles  and  vices  of  mankind, 
to  despise. 

"  For  he  made  the  moon  also  to  serve  in  her  season,  for  a  declare- 

tion  of  times,  and  a  sign  of  the  wdrH."— Ecctestas.  xliii  6. ' 

*  «'  *.    .»*    '        »i    i     *:  ].•       :;     ;-  •  •    i    .  u, 

•  The  celebrated  Dr.  Mead,  well » known  as  one  of 
the  most  -skilful  of  his  day,  whose  portrait  is  hung 
in  the  new  assembly  room  of  the  >Royal  College  of 
Physicians,  has  these  remarks  upon  the  "Influence 
of  the  Moon."  ,Mi  - 

"  To  conclude,  the  'powerful  action  of  the  moon 
is  observed  not  only  by  philosophers  and  natural 
historians,  but  even  by  the1  common  people,  who 
have  been  fully  persuaded  of  it,  time  out  of  mind. 
Pliny  relates,  that  Aristotle  laid  it  down  as  an 
aphorism,  that  no  animal  dies  but  in  the  ebb  of  the 
tide!  And  that  births  and  deaths  chiefly  happen 
about  the  new  and  full  moon,  is  an  axiom  among 
women.  >  The  husbandmen,  likewise,  are  regulated 
by  the  moon  in  planting  and  managing  trees  ;  and 
several  other  of  their  occupations.  So  great  is  the 
empire  of-  the  moon  over  Ahe  terraqueous  globe." 

•  i 

TRADITIONS  'AND'  SUPERSTITIONS"  OF 

FORMER  TIMES.  .    - 

In  regard  to  the  display  of  the  former  popular 
belief  in  the  mystic  power  of  charms,  spells, 
enchantments,  and  the  occult  influences  of  certain 


14 

agents ;  the  author  is  desirous  of  its  being  under* 
stood  that  he  by  no  means  wishes  to  revive  the 
gloomy  days  of  superstition,  nor  to  impose  upon 
the  unreflecting  multitude  the  principles'  of  igno- 
rance or  enthusiasm.  Neither  does  he  avouch  for 
the  truth  or  falsehood  of  the  different  mystical  rites, 
ceremonials,  and  such  like,  that  are  brought  for- 
ward in  this  book  for  the  sole  purpose  of  recording 
the  traditional  customs  of  times  long  past ;  which 
most  persons  certainly  feel  pleasure  in  perusing, 
when  they  are  incorporated  in  tales  or  romances, 
or  even  in  detached  fragments  of  legendary  lore, 
where  a  small  portion  of  truth  is  generally  mixed 
with  a  prodigious  deal  of  fiction.  These  remarks 
are  necessary  for  the  purpose  of  freeing  the  author, 
and  the  science  he  professes,  from  the  charge  of 
superstition;  which  he  well  knows  his  enemies 
would,  but  for  this  explanation,  hasten  to  palm 
upon  him,  without  reason  or  reserve. 

3$ttlUmtattf £ ; 

OR,  DIVINATION  BY  THE  BIBLE. 

Amongst  other  modes  of  divining  the  future  fate, 
made  use  of  by  the  ancient  Christian  Church,  the 
Bible  formed  a  most  prominent  feature :  and  it  is 
affirmed,  that  the  forty-ninth  chapter  of  Genesis  is 
of  singular  efficacy  therein;  for  it  is  said,  that  if 
any  person  beginning  life  refer  to  the  forty-ninth 
chapter  of  Genesis,  and  choose  any  verse  at  random, 
beginning  with  the  third  verse,  and  ending  with  the 
twenty-seventh '  verse,  the  verse  he  first  chooses  shall 
be  typical  of  his  future  fate,  character,  and  success 
in  life.  Several  persons  who  have  tried  this  method 
have  been  struck  with  the  singularity  of  the  result. 


15 

Another  method  practised  by  the  ancients  upon 
almost  every  occasion,  was,  to  open  the  Bible  at 
random— especially  the  Psalms,  the  Prophets,  or 
the  Four  Gospels, — and  the  words  which  first  pre- 
sented themselves  decided  the  future  lot  of  the 
inquirer.  Several  remarkable  instances  of  this 
practice  are  upon  record,  from  which  I  abstract 
the  following  :— 

One  Peter,  of  Tholouse,  being  accused  of  heresy, 
and  having  denied  the  truth  of  the  accusation  upon 
oath,  a  bystander,  in  order  to  judge  of  the  truth, 
seized  the  book  upon  which  he  had  sworn,  and 
opening  it  hastily,  met  with  the  words  of  the  devil 
to  our  Saviour,  "  What  have  we  to  do  with  thee, 
thou  Jesus  of  Nazareth?"  and  concluded  from 
thence  that  the  accused  was  guilty ;  and  this  was 
afterwards  proved. 

The  founder  of  the  Franciscan  Friars,  it  seems, 
having  denied  himself  the  possession  of  anything  but 
coats  and  a  cord,  and  still  having  doubts  whether 
he  might  not  possess  books,  first  prayed,  and  then 
casually  opened  upon  Mark,  chap.  iv. — "  Unto  you 
it  is  given  to  know  the  mystery  of  the  kingdom  of 
God ;  but  unto  them  that  are  without,  all  these  things 
are  done  in  parables :"  from  which  he  drew  the  con* 
elusion,  that  books  were  not  necessary  for  him. 

The  Emperor  Heraclius,  in  the  war  against  the 
Persians,  being  at  a  loss  whether  to  advance  or 
retreat,  commanded  a  public  fast  for  three  days ;  at 
the  end  of  which  he  applied  to  the  Four  Gospels, 
and  opened  upon  a  text  which  he  regarded  as  an 
oracular  intimation  to  winter  in  Albania. 

Gregory  of  Tours  also  relates,  that  Meroveous 
being  desirous  of  obtaining  the  kingdom  of  Chil- 


\G 

peric,  his  father  consulted  a  female  fortune-teller, 
who  promised  him  the  possession  of  royal  estates. 
But,  to  prevent  deception,  and  to  try  the  truth  of 
her  prognostications,  he  caused  the  Psalter,  the 
Book  of  Kings,  and  the  Four  Gospels,  to  be. laid 
upon  the  shrine  of  Saint  Martin,  and,  after  fa&ting 
and  solemn  prayer,  opened  upon  passages  which: 
not  only  destroyed  his  former  hopes,  but  seemed  to 
predict  the  unfortunate  events  which  really  after- 
wards befel  him.  .,.  '        .    ■- 

In  the  Gallican  Church  it  was  long  practised  in 
the  election  of  bishops, — children  being  employed, 
cm  behalf  of  each  candidate,  to  draw  slips  of  paper 
with  texts  on  them ;  and  that  which  was  thought 
most  favourable  decided  the  choice.  A  similar 
mode  was  pursued  at  the  installation  of  abbots,  and 
the  reception  of  canons j  and  this  custom  is  said  to 
have  continued  in  the  Cathedrals  of  Ypres,  St. 
Omers,  and  Boulogne,  so  late  as  the  year  1744; 
In  the  Greek  Church  it  was  practised  upon  the 
consecration  of  Athanasius,  on  whose  behalf  the 
presiding  prelate,  Caracalla,  archbishop  of  Nico^ 
media,  opened  the  Gospels  upon  these  words — "For 
the  devil  and  his  angels,"  Matt.  xxv.  41.  The 
bishop  of  Nice  first  saw  them,  and  adroitly  turned 
over  the  leaf  to  another  verse,  which  was  instantly 
read  aloud — "The  birds  of  the  air  came  and 
lodged  in  the  branches  thereof."  But  this  passage 
appearing  contrary  to  the  ceremony,  the  first  be- 
came gradually  known ;  and  the  historian  who  has 
recorded  the  fact,  remarks,  that  the  Church  of 
Constantinople  was  violently  agitated  by  the  most 
fatal  divisions  during  the  patriarchate. 

The    Methodists    are  said  to  pay  a  particular 


J7 

attention  to  this  mode  of  discovering  future  events ; 
a  singular  instance  whereof  is  given  in  the  life  of 
the  eccentric  but  fortunate  bookseller,  Mr.  Lacking- 
ton,  which  is  recorded  by  himself  as  follows : — 

"One  Sunday  morning,  at  eight  o'clock,  my 
mistress,  seeing  her  sons  set  off,  and  knowing  that 
they  were  gone  to  a  metbodist  meeting,  determined 
to  prevent  me  from  doing  the  same  by  locking  the 
door,  which  she  accordingly  did ;  on  which,  in  a 
superstitious  mood,  I  opened  the  Bible  for  direction 
what  to  do,  and  the  first  words  I  read  were  these  — 
"  He  has  given  his  angels  charge  concerning  thee, 
lest  at  anytime  thou  shouldst  dash  thy  foot  against 
a  stone."  This  was  enough  for  me ;  so  without  a 
moment's  hesitation,  I  ran  up  two  pair  of  stairs  to 
my  own  room,  and  out  of  the  window  I  leaped,  to 
the  great  terror  of  my  poor  mistress.  I  got  up 
immediately,  and  ran  about  two  or  three  hundred 
yards  towards  the  meeting  house;  but,  alas!  I  could 
ran  no  farther ;  my  feet  and  ancles  were  most  into- 
lerably bruised,  so  that  I  was  obliged  to  be  carried 
back  and  put  to  bed.  This  my  rash  adventure 
made  a  great  noise  in  the  town." 

The  author  of  this  book  is  well  acquainted  with 
many  persons  of  erudition  ana  sound  judgment, 
who,  at  the  present  day,  privately  ^make  use  of  the 
foregoing  method  of  prognosticating  the  event  of 
their  undertakings,  by  opening  the  Bible  in  a 
chance  way,  and  placing  reliance  upon  the  first 
jassage  of  Scripture  that  meets  their  eye;  and 
hey  say  it  is  seldom  erroneous. 


IB 

MARVELLOUS  PROPERTIES 
OF  HERBS,  STONES,  ROOTS,  MINERALS, 

&c.  &c. 


st.  john's  wort. 

The  herb  St.  John's  Wort,  being  carried  about 
any  one,  is  said  to  protect  the  wearer  against  all 
invisible  beings. 

TO  CAUSE  TRUE  DREAMS. 

The  seeds  of  flax  and  flea- wort,  finely  powdered, 
and  often  smelt  to,  occasion  prophetic  and  ominous 
dreams.  The  manuscript  from  whence  this  was 
taken  deems  it  infallible. 

A  RING  FOR  POWER,  AND  TO  OVERCOME  ENEMIES. 

Let  the  character  of  Saturn  (b)  be  engraved 
upon  a  magnet,  or  piece  of  loadstone,  in  the  time 
of  the  moon's  increase ;  and,  being  worn  on  the 
right  hand,  no  enemy  or  foe  shall  overcome  the 
wearer. 

FOR  THE  SIGHT. 

Fennel,  rose,  vervain,  celandine,  and  rue, 
Do  \%  ater  make  which  will  the  sight  renew* 

ACONITE,  OR  WOLFSBANE. 

It  is  said  by  old  herbalists,  that  these  herbs  are 
so  extremely  pernicious  and  poisonous,  that  if  either 
man  or  beast  be  wounded  with  an  arrow,  knife, 
sword,  or  any  other  instrument,  dipped  in  the  juice 


1ft 

of  this  herb,  they  die  incurably  within  half  an  hour 
afterwards. 

MULLETT,  OB  FLEA-BANE. 

»     .♦ 

.  This  herb,  burned  and  smoked  where  flies,  gnats, 
fleas,  or  any  venomous  things  are,  doth  drive  them 
away. 

HERBS   THAT   ACT  AS  A  CHARM  AGAINST  SPIRITS. 

"  There  is  an  herb  called  corona  regis  (or  rose- 
mary); the  house  that  is  suffumigated  therewith, 
noe  devil  nor  spirit  hath  power  over  the  same. 
Piomf  hath  the  same  virtue." — (Manuscript.) 

TO  MAKE  A  SAD  PERSON  KERRY. 

For  dull,  melancholy  men,  take  the  flowers 
of  rosemary,  and  make  them  into  powder;  bind 
them  to  the  right  arm  in  a  linen  clotb, .  and  this 
powder,  by  working  upon  the  veins,  shall. .  make  a 
man  more  merry  and  lightsome  than  ordinary. 

•  •     •  *  * 

MYSTERIOUS  PROPERTIES  OF  THE  SUNFLOWER. 

Albertus  Magnus  relates  that  the,  heliotropium, 
or  sun-flower,  is  endued  with  wonderful  virtues; 
far,  if  gathered  when  the  sun  is  in  the  fifth  sign  of 
the.  zodiac  (*),  and  wrapped  in  a  laurel  leaf,  thereto 
being  added  a. wolf  8  tooth,  the  person  who  carries 
it  about  him  *  shall  find  that  nobody  can  have  the 
power  of  kibiag  any  -  other  than  mild  language  to 
him, ..  Moreover,  if  anything  has-  been  taken  from 
bin  by  stealth,  let  kin)  lay  it  under  his  head  at 
night,  and  he  shall  see  the  thief,  and  all  the  circum- 
stances of  the  theft. 


20 


THE  NETTLE. 

The  second  herb  he  notices  is  the  nettle.  By 
holding  this  herb,  together  with  milfoil,  in  your 
hand,  you  are  free  from  apparitions.  Mix  it  with 
the  juice  of  sen-green,  and  smear  your  hands  there- 
with, putting  a  part  into  any  water  where  there  are 
fish,  it  will  not  fail  to  attract  them ;  withdraw  it, 
and  they  will  disperse  immediately. 


C$r  WLttcXH  of  £pirtt& 


APPARITION    OF  A  MURDERED  MAN,   AND    CONSE- 
QUENT DISCOVERT  OF  THE  MURDERER. 

The  recent  singular  and  romantically  horrible 
affair  at  Polstead,  having  plainly  evinced  the 
existence  of  an  ever-watchful  Providence  over  the 
affairs  and  destinies  of  us  finite  mortals,  in  spite  of 
the  arrogant  atheism  of  the  present  day,  has  led  us 
to  insert  the  following  affair,  which  occurred  a  few 
years  since  at  a  viHage  in  Lancashire;  where  the 
circumstance,  which  made  much  noise  at  the  time, 
is  even  now  well  remembered. 

One  James  Dunstable,  a  poor  labouring  man, 
had,  by  great  industry,  amassed  a  considerable  sum 
of  money,  which,  as  he  had  but  a  small  family,  con- 
tinually increased ;  so  that,  by  the  death  of  an 
uncle  of  his  wife,  who  was  a  considerable  farmer  in 
that  part9  his  possessions  made  him  be  looked  upon 
as  one  of  the  most  able  peasants  in  that  county. 
He  lived  for  some  time  in  this  state,  and  was  much 
respected  by  his  neighbours. 


21 

It  happened  that  he  was  called  off  to  a  fair  in 
one  of  the  chief  towns,  and  was  away  three  days. 
As  the  fair  lasted  in  general  no  longer,  he  was 
expected  on  the  third ;  but  not  coming  at  the 
expected  time,  and  being  a  very  sober  and  punctual 
man,  there  was  some  suspicion  that  he  had  met  with 
an  accident.  On  the  fifth  day,  not  arriving,  his 
wife  and  all  the  neighbourhood  were  much  alarmed, 
and  search  was  made  round  the  country;  but  he 
could  not  be  heard  of,  nor  was  he  found  at  all  at 
that  time.  So  that  it  was  concluded,  and  not  with- 
out reason,  that  he  had  been  murdered ;  especially 
as  he  had  been  known  to  have  set  out  from  the  inn 
after  the  fair  was  over. 

Things  continued  in  this  situation  for  several 
years,  till  the  wife  was  persuaded  to  give  her 
hand  to  a  neighbour  who  was  thought  to  be  very 
deserving.  He  made  her  a  good  husband,  and  for 
a  little  space  of  time  they  continued  happy ;  but 
at  last  it  appeared  that  all  was  not  right  with  him. 
His  wife  was  the  first  who  perceived  this  change  in 
his  temper  and  carriage :  he  would  frequently  start 
as  if  he  beheld  something  supernatural  of  a  sudden ; 
and  he  was  troubled  in  his  sleep,  as  if  his  dreams 
had  been  disagreeable.  She  would  sometimes  ask 
him  the  reason  of  these  emotions,  but  he  always 
excused  himself.  His  fears  grew  upon  him  every 
day;  and  his  neighbours  perceived  that  he  was 
neither  so  bold  nor  so  steady  in  his  deportment  as 

usual. 

One  night,  in  a  party  at  an  ale-house,  where  a 
pretty  large  company  were  collected,  he  got  elated 
with  drink,  and  recovered  his  wonted  spirits,  so  that 
he  was  as  cheerful  and  merry  as  the  rest.     In  the 


22 

midst  of  their  festivity,  he  was.  observed,  fo  start 
with  great  terror,  and  fix  his  eyes  upon  a  particular 
place.  T.he  whole  company  thought  him  drunk  or 
insane,  as  they  jokingly  said.  However,  he  could 
not  be  appeased ;  and,  at  last,  giving  a  shriek,  he 
cried  out  .loudly — "  0  there  he  is  !  look!  he  sees 
me !  t  It  was  me  /"  There  now  arose  a  .great  con- 
sternation in  the  house,  and  he  was  .immediately 
seized  upon  suspicion  of  having  murdered.  Dua- 
stable...  He  was  tried  soon  after,  and  confessed  the 
affair  ^-—that .  he  had  murdered  him,  and  thrown  his 
body. rata  3,  deep  pit,  which,  had  been  partly  filled 
up,  and  which  had  escaped  the  vigilance  of  those 
who  made  search  for  him.  The  body  was  found 
as  described;  and  the  murderer  received  his  due 

reward!.!        »  .  \ 

Whether,  in  such  a  case,  the  apparition  of  the 
deceased  appeared  to  the  murderer ;  or  whether  it 
might  be  the  effect,  of  his  troubled  imagination,  is 
pot  easy  to  /say ;  but  it  is  sufficient  to  prove  that 
such  wicked  and  premeditated  deeds  are  sure  to  be 
brought  to  light. 

MARVELLOUS   DREAM   OF    AN    ITALIAN   MUSICIAN. 

Tartini,  a  celebrated  musician,  who  was  born 
at  Pirano,  in^  Istria,  being  much  inclined  to  the 
study  of  music  in  his  early  youth,  dreamed  one 
night  that  he  had  made  a  compact  with  the  devil* 
who  promised  to  be  at  his  service  on  all  occasions ; 
and  during  this  vision  everything  succeeded  ac- 
cording to  his  mind ; .  his  wishes  were  prevented, 
ftnd  his  desires,  always  surpassed  by  the  assistance 
ftf  his  new  servant.  At  last  he  imagined  that  he 
presented  the  devil  with  his  violin,  in  order  to  dis- 


23 

cover  what  kind  of  a  musician  he  was ;  when,  to 
his  astonishment,  he  heat d  him  play  fe  solo  so  sin- 
gularly beautiful,  and  which  he  executed  with  such 
superior''  taste  and1  precision,  thit  it  surpassed  aH 
the  mosifc  which  he  had  ever  heard  or  Conceived  id 
his  life: ;  So  gre&t  was  his  surprise,  and  so  ex^iri^ 
site  Was  his  delight,  • uplon  this  occasion \  that  it 
deprived  him  of  the  power  of  breathing!  He«awofee 
^rith  'the  violence  of  Jiis  sensation,  and  instantly 
seized  his  fiddle,  in  hopefc  •  of  expressing  what 
he  had  just  heard ;  but  in  Vain.  •  He/  bowser, 
composed  a  piece,  which  is  perhaps  the  best  of 
all  his  works — he  called  it  Thr-'D'EvilVSonata'; 
but  it  was  so  far  inferior  to  the  music  he  heard 
ib  his  dream,  that  •  he  declared  he  would  have 
broken  his  instrument,  and :  Abandoned  music  far 
ever,  if  he  could  have  found  any  other  means  ef 
subsistence.  '* 

A  CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  SPIRITS. 

Dr.  Richard  Napier  was  born  in  the  beginning 
of  the  year  1534.  Several  extraordinary1  circum* 
stances  are  related  by  Mr.  Aubrey  to  have  happened 
at  his  birth.  In  his  youth  he  showed  an  early  pious 
disposition,  and  his  genius1  was  tnfly  prcinatute^ 
insomuch  that  beforfe  he  was  twelve  yeato{old;  hfe 
was  forwarder  in  human  teaming  than  hi*  contemf- 
poraries  in  class  who  were  double  his  age.  Aftfer 
passing  through  the  due  degrees  of  education  tf  ith 
an  extraordinary  character  for  abstinence,  iohbcence 
of  manners,  and  piety,  he  was  promoted  to  the 
rectory  of  Linfotd,  in»  Bucks;  where  he  practised 
physic ;  but  what  he  gtft  by  it  he  gave  to  the  poor. 
He  also  practised  astroldgy;  but  he  seriorisfyoon- 


24 

fessed  that  this  art  was  but  the  countenance.,  and 
that  he  did  his  business  by  the  help  of  the  blessed 
spirits,  with  whom  only  men  of  great  piety,  humility, 
and  charity,  could  be  acquainted ;  and  such  an  one 
he  was.  He  constantly  spent,  every  day,  two  hours 
in  family  prayer.  When  a  patient  or  querist  came 
to  him  he  went  to  his  closet  to  pray,  and  told  to 
admiration  the  recovery  or  death  of  the  patient. 
It  appears,  by  his  papers,  that  he  conversed  with 
spirits,  who  gave  him  the  responses. 

Elias  Ashmole,  Esq.,  had  all  his  MSS.,  where 
is  contained  his  general  practice  for  about  fifty 
years.  In  these  papers  are  many  excellent  medi- 
cines, or  receipts,  for  several  diseases  that  his 
patients  had  ;  and  before  some  of  them  stands  this 
mark,  "R.  Ris.",  which  Mr.  Ashmole  interprets  to 
signify,  "  Re  sponsiom  Raphalis"  (or  the  answer  of 
the  angel  Raphael).  They  contain,  also,  several 
queries  to  the  angels,  as  relating  to  religion,  future 
judgment,  &c.  One  of  these  questions  is,  "Which 
are  the  most  numerous,  the  good  spirits  or  the  bad 
ones?  The  answer  stands  thus;  "  R.  Ris. — The 
good."  In  these  papers  are  found  several  other 
incontestible  proofs  of  this  spirit  of  prophecy ;  among 
other  things,  he  foretold  to  Dr.  John  Prideaux,  in 
1621,  that  twenty  years  after,  he  should  be  made  a 
bishop;  which  accordingly  happened  in  1641,  when 
the  Doctor  was  created  to  the  see  of  Worcester ! 

He  predicted,  also,  that  a  Mr.  Booth,  of  Cheshire, 
should  have  a  son  that  should  be  afterwards  created 
a  Lord.  This  prediction  was  made  in  1619;  and 
Sir  George  Booth,  the  first  Lord  Delamore,  was 
born  Dec.  18,  1622!  "There  is  an  incontestible 
impossibility,"  observes  Mr.   Aubrey,  "that  this 


25 


nativity  corid  be  found  <my  other  way,  but  by 
angelical  revelation!" 

A  gentleman  took  his  grandsoa  to  Dr.  Napier  for 
advice,  being  troubled  with  the  worms :  after  con- 
sulting him,  the  Doctor  retired ;  and  the  old  gentle- 
man's curiosity  urging  him  to  peep  in  at  the  closet, 
he  saw  him  upon  his  knees  at  prayer.  A  sbprt 
time  after  he  returned,  and  told  him  that  at  fourteen 
years  old  his  grandson  would  be  freed  from  that 
distemper ;  and  he  was  so.  The  medicine  h$  pre-* 
scribed  was,  to  drink  a  little  draught  of  muscadine 
in  the  morning.    This  happened  in  1625. 

He  foretold  the  day  and  hour  of  his  own  death, 
which  happened  April  1,  1634,  at  the  age  of  one 
kndred  years !  He  was  nearly  related  to  the  learned 
Lord  Napier,  Baron  of  Marchiston  in  Scotland.  Hia 
estate  descended  to  Sir  Richard  Napier,  M»D.  ot 
the  College  of  Physicians,  London ;  from  whom 
Mr*  Ashmole  had  the  Dr.'s  picture,  now  in  the 
Museum,  at  Oxford;  where  all  his  papers  are 
arranged  and  deposited,  in  several  volumes  in  folio, 
in  the  library. 


NATURAL  MAGIC. 

THE  SYMPATHETIC  V1AX  ; 

Whereby  may  be  immediately  ascertained  the  Health  or 
Sickness  of  an  absent  Friend,  although  a  thousand 
Miles  distant;  and  whether  they  are  Alive  or  Dead. 

It  is  tolerably  well  known  that  Nature  has  a 
secret  communication  within  herself,  through  all 
her  works ;  and  the  occult  principle  thereof  is  found 
in  human  nature,  as  well  as  in  animal  and  inani- 


26 

mate  bodies.      Upon  this  reasoning  the  following 
curious  experiment  is  founded. 

If  you  wish  to  know  how  any  relation,  absent 
friend,  or  acquaintance,  does,  during  their  absence 
or  travelling  into  any  other  country,  in  respect  to 
their  health,  you  must  possess  yourself  with  some 
of  their  live  blood ;  and,  while  it  is  warm,  infuse  into 
it  a  small  quantity  of  white  vitriol  or  spirits  of  wine, 
and  keep  it  close  stopped  up,  in  a  glass  vial,  from 
the  air.  Now,  if  your  friend  is  well,  the  blood  will 
look  lively,  fresh,  and  florid ;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
if  he  is  ill,  or  the  least  thing  indisposed,  you  may 
perceive  it  by  the  changing  colour  of  the  blood, 
which  will  immediately  happen  according  as  he  is 
diseased  in  his  body.  If  the  blood  gain  a  redder 
hue  than  usual,  you  may  pronounce  him  in  a  fever; 
but,  if  it  grow  paler,  and  seem  mixed  with  water, 
and  to  part  in  different  colours,  his  sickness  is  dan-  . 
gerous,  and  he  is  reduced  to  the  last  stage  of  weak- 
ness. 

After  this  indisposition,  if  he  recover  his  health, 
the  blood  will  again  look  fresh  and  lively,  as  at  first; 
but,  should  death  unfortunately  ensue,  the  blood  will 
putrify  and  stink  accordingly,  just  as  the  rest  of  the 
body  decays.  This  has  been  proved  several  times, 
as  Dr.  Blagrave,  in  his  Astrological  Physic,  reports ; 
and  the  same  effects  have  been  produced  by  Sir 
Kenelm  Pigby's  sympathetic  powder,  which  was 
said  to  cure  wounds  at  a  distance,  being  applied  to 
some  of  the  fresh  blood  collected  therefrom. 


27 


THE  ENCHANTED  STATUE. 


To  make  an  image  or  statue  speak,  and  utter 
articulate  sounds;  or  to  give  answers  to  any  ques- 
tion proposed,  proceed  as  follows : — 

Place  a  concave  mirror  of  tin  or  gilt  pasteboard, 
of  about  two  feet  diameter,  as  A  B  in  the  engraving, 
in  a  perpendicular  direction.  The  focus  of  this 
mirror  may  be  at  fifteen  or  eighteen  inches  distance 
from  its  circumference. 

At  the  distance  of  five  or  six  feet  let  there  be  a 
partition,  in  which  there  is  an  opening  (E  F)  equal  to 
the  size  of  the  mirror ;  against  this  opening  place  a 
picture  printed  in  water  colours  on  a  thin  cloth,  that 
sound  may  easily  pass  through  it.  Behind  the  parti- 
tion, at  the  distance  of  two  or  three  feet,  place  another 
mirror  (G  H)  of  the  same  size  as  the  former,  and  let 
it  be  exactly  opposite  to  it. 

At  the  point  C  place  the  image  or  statue  of  a 
man,  seated  upon  a  pedestal,  and  let  his  ear  be 
situated  exactly  in  the  focus  of  the  first  mirror ;  his 
lower  jaw  must  be  made  to  open  by  a  wire,  and 
shut  by  a  spring,  and  there  may  be  another  wire  to 
move  the  eyes, — these  wires  must  pass  through  the 
figure,  go  under  the  floor,  and  come  up  behind  the 
partition. 


28 

Then  let  a  person  properly  instructed  be  placed 
behind  the  partition,  near  the  mirror.  You  then 
propose  to  any  one  to  speak  softly  to  the  statue,  by 
putting  his  mouth  to  its  ear,  assuring  him  it  will 
answer  directly !  Then  give  the  preconcerted 
signal  to  the  person  behind  the  partition,  who,  by 
placing  his  ear  to  the  focus  I  of  the  mirror  G  H, 
will,  by  the  reflection  of  the  sound,  hear  distinctly 
what  the  other  said ;  and,  moving  the  jaws  and  eyes 
of  the  statue  by  the  wires,  will  return  an  answer 
instantly,  which,  in  like  manner,  will  be  distinctly 
heard  by  the  first  speaker. 

The  more  effectually  to  conceal  the  cause  of  this 
illusion,  the  mirror  A  B  may  be  fixed  in  the  wain- 
scot, and  a  gauze,  or  any  other  thin  covering,  thrown 
over  it ;  as  that  will  not  prevent  the  sound.  An 
experiment  of  this  kind  may  be  performed  in  a  field 
or  garden,  between  two  hedges — in  one  of  which  the 
mirror  A  B  may  be  placed,  and  in  the  other  an 
opening  artfully  contrived. 


GEOMANCY; 

OR,    Till    ART    OF     FORETELLING    EVENTS     D  V    LOTS 

Oil   POINTS. 

"s 

No.  I. 

Tins  curious  art  was  formerly  in  high  repute; 
being  a  favourite  science  among  the  monks  and 
friars  of  the  middle  ages;  who,  immured  in  the 
solitary  gloom  of  their  abbeys  and  monasteries, 
stood  in  need  of  some  peculiar  invention,  that  com* 
bined  the  then  universal  desire  for  unveiling  futurity, 
with  a   recreation  at  once  pleasant   and  amusing. 


finch  advantages  were  speedily  discovered  in  the 
practice  of  Geomancy ;  added  to  which,  where  the 
inquirer  is  sincere  in  his  wishes,  the  universal  gym* 
pathy  so  prevalent  throughout  all  nature,  (and 
which  not  even  the  profoondest  philosopher  of  the 
present  day  can  deny  or  satisfactorily  explain, 
except  by  admitting  occult  principles,)  will  seldom 
foil,  to  procure  him  a  rational  and  true  answer. 

The  art  or  science  of  Geomancy  consists  of  two 
parte,  which,  although  distinct  in  a  manner  from 
each  other,  are  nevertheless  founded  on,  and  pro- 
duced by,  the  same  sympathetic  impulse.  The  first 
is  termed  Simple  Geomancy ;  and  consists  in  judging 
of  future  events  by  the  nature  and  properties  of  the 
sixteen  figures  or  emblems,  without  combination, 
by  house,  place,  or  aspect.  The  other  is  termed 
Compound;  as  it  teaches  the  method  of  judging 
the  correlative  contingencies  of  each  question  by 
means  of  aspects,  houses,  and  emblematical  move* 
ments.  This  latter  part  is  far  more  difficult  than 
tile  former ;  Mid  I  shall  therefore  first  initiate  my 
renders  into  the  practice  of  the  former,  or  Simple 
Geomancy;  as  k  cannot  fail  to  affoftl  many  an 
boar's  rational  amusement. 

I  need  scarcely  observe,  that  books  on  this  sub* 
ject  are  so  extremely  rare  as  seldom  to  be  met  with 
et  any  price. 

The  method  of  working  the  questions  in  Geo- 
mancy consists  m  marking  down  with  pen,  pencil, 
or  any  other  instrument,  upon  paper,  slate,  or  any 
legible  material,  a  certain  number  of  points,  or 
dote,  leaving  the  precise  number  to  chance;  and 
all  the  time  the  inquirer  is  so  doing,  his  thoughts 
mast  dwell  earnestly  upon  the  matter  upon 


30 

he  wishes  to  be  informed,  with  a  fervent  wish 
(devoid  of  doubting  as  much  as  possible)  to  have  a 
correct  and  true  answer. 

The  ancients  affirmed,  that  in  these  cases  an  in- 
visible spirit,  or  planetary  angel,  uniformly  directed 
the  hand  of  the  querist,  so  to  form  the  mystic 
points  as  to  obtain  the  desired  resolution  of  his 
query :  but  whether  or  not  this  may  be  the  case, 
it  is  quite  certain  that  the  thoughts  and  earnest 
desires  of  the  mind  have  a  wonderful  control  over 
the  nerves,  muscles,  and  pulsations  of  the  body. 
This  is  seen  plainly  in  the  case  of  timid,  weak,  and 
nervous  persons,  who,  when  writing  letters,  or  sen- 
tences where  their  feelings  are  more  than  usually 
wrought  upon,  never  fail  to  exhibit  signs  of  such 
mental  irritation  in  their  hand-writing.  But  this 
fact,  which  is,  I  believe,  well  known  to  every  one, 
is  more  clearly  demonstrated  by  the  following 
simple  but  curious  experiment,  the  truth  of  which  I 
can  avouch  from  my  own  experience. 

Sling  a  shilling  or  sixpence  at  the  end  of  a  piece 
of  thread,  by  means  of  a  loop,  or  tie  a  ring  thereto ; 
then,  resting  your  elbow  upon  a  table,  hold  tightly 
the  other  end  of  the  thread  between  your  forefinger 
and  thumb,  taking  care  that  the  thread  passes 
across  the  ball  of  the  thumb  (where  the  pulse  lies), 
and  thus  suspend  the  shilling  or  ring  in  an  empty 
goblet.  Observe  to  keep  your  hand  as  steady  as 
possible,  or  otherwise  it  is  useless  to  attempt  the 
experiment. 

When  the  shilling  or  ring  is  properly  suspended, 
you  will  find  it  will  for  a  moment  be  stationary.  It 
will  then,  of  its  own  accord,  and  without  the  least 
agency  from  the  person  holding  it,  vibrate  like  the 


81 


pendulum  of  a  clock,  from  side  to  side  of  the  glu- , 
and,  after  a  few  seconds,  it  will  strike  the  hour 
nearest  to  the  time  of  day  or  night.  For  instance,  if 
the  time  be  twenty-five  minutes  past  six  o'clock, 
it  will  strike  six ;  if  thirty-Gve  minutes  past,  it  will 
strike  seven,  and  so  on  of  any  other  hour.  It  will 
also  strike  any  number  you  think  of;  which  latter 
property  arises  solely  from  the  pulsation  of  the 
thumb,  communicating,  by  an  occult  principle,  the 
desires  of  the  mind  to  the  nervous  system.  But  to 
what  cause  its  striking  the  precise  hour  is  to  be 
traced,  as  the  author  of  "Rational  Recreations" 
observes,  "  remains  unexplained ;  for  it  is  no  less 
astonishing  than  true,  that  when  it  has  struck  the 
proper  number,  its  vibration  ceases,  it  acquires  a 
kind  of  rotary  motion,  and  at  last  becomes  sta- 
tionary as  before." 


V1ME8  OF  THE  SIXTEEN  FIGURES  OF   OEOMAVCT 


*    Acquisitio 


Caput 


«     Amissio 


«    Cauda 


♦  ♦ 


#  * 


,  *    Rubeus 


4     Fortuna  Major 


\      Albus 


«  * 


*  *   Fortuna  Minor 


•  * 


82 


*  *  Letitia 

V  Puella 

* 

*  * 

* 

4  »   Tristitia 

4 

if 

*  4   Puer 

* 

*   * 

* 

.  *     Conjunctio 

*  * 

l     Via 

* 

*   * 

*  *  Carqer 

»f   if 

^  *    Populus 

MISCELLANIES. 

MYSTIC  SIGNIFICATION  OF  THE  NAME  NAPOLEO 

It  is  a  curious  circumstance,  that  the  nam 
"  Napoleon,"  together  with  the  original  derivation 
of  the  name,  which  is  compounded  of  two  Greek 
words,  signifying  the  "Lion  of  the  Desert,'9  forms  a 
most  striking  coincidence  with  the  character  of  that 
extraordinary  conqueror,  who  has  rendered  it  so 
conspicuous  in  history. 

1.  NAPOLEON 

6.  APOLEON 

7.  POLEON 

3.  OLEON 

4.  LEON 

5.  EON 
2.         ON 

By  dropping  the  first  letter  from  the  first  syllable 
of  the  name  in  full,  and  from  each  part  of  it  in 


33 

succession,  sir  Greek  words  are  formed,  which,  tnum 
lated  in  the  order  of  the  numerals,  signify,  "  Napoleon 
bang  a  raging  lion,  going  about  destroying  cities." 

EXTRAORDINARY    EFFECTS   OF  A  LUNAR    ECLIPSE. 

"January  21,  1693. — The  moon  having  bten 
eclipsed  that  night,  the  greatest  part  of  the  sick 
died,  about  the  very  hour  of  the  eclipse,  and  some 
were  even  struok  with  sadden  death.9' — Dr.  Mead 
on  Planetary  Influence. 

EXTRAORDINARY  NARRATIVE 

or  a 
CELEBRATED  ASTROLOGER  OF  THE  LAST  CENTURY. 

I  have  not  so  exclusively  attached   myself  to 
ancient  legends  as  to  omit  any  opportunity  of  col- 
lecting and  preserving  the  romantic  narratives  of  a 
later  time.     My  own  custom  is  to  have  a  frequent 
gossip  with  my  host  or  hostess  upon  any  subject 
that  occurs  to  either  of  us ;  such  as  the  remem- 
brances of  their  youth,  the  alterations  of  the  town, 
the  characters  and  histories  of  their  former  lodgers. 
By  these  means  I  not  only  lay  hold  of  many  a 
carious  anecdote,  interesting  adventure,  or  legendary 
tradition,  but  I  also  observe  many  a  delightful  trait 
of  human  nature,  as  shown  either  in  its  actions  or 
passions,  which  is  carefully  laid  up  in  my  memory, 
until  I  have  occasion  to  bring  it  forward  to  the 
public   in   a  pen  and   ink   drawing   upon   paper. 
When  I  first  came  to  London,  about  fifty  years  ago, 
my  abode  was  with  a  Mrs.  Bathsheba  Pendulum, 
the  Scottish  widow  of  Tubal  Pendulum,  an  eminent 
watch  and  clock-maker  in  Little  Britain. 

It  was  not  at  that  time  much  different  from  what 


34 

it  now  appears,  generally  speaking;  but  as  my 
narrative  will  occasionally  refer  to  the  appearance 
of  my  landlady's  house  itself,  it  will  be  proper  to 
state  that  it  was  erected  after  the  following  fashion. 
Tall  and  narrow  as  were  the  buildings  of  the  time 
to -which  I  allude,  the  one  that  I  dwelt  in  was  some- 
thing taller,  and  a  great  deal  narrower,  than  the 
generality  of  them.  The  door  stood  between  two 
short  and  stout  bay  windows,  divided  by  thick  and 
ill-shaped  red  frames  into  a  number  of  small 
squares,  fitted  with  a  coarse  green-coloured  glass ; 
behind  which  appeared  several  antiquely-shaped 
clocks  and  watches.  Some  of  these  were  of  large 
dimensions,  and  in  form  not  very  much  unlike  the 
case  of  a  violincello ;  and,  by  their  fine  ornamental 
Indian  gilding  upon  a  black  japanned  ground,  were 
evidently  designed  for  chapels,  halls,  or  tap-rooms. 
Others,  again,  made  with  all  the  luxuriance  of  scroll- 
work of  gilded  brass,  and  silvered  or  enamelled  faces, 
showfed  that  they  were  intended  for  the  beau- 
monde  of  the  day,  for  the  dial-plate  sometimes 
displayed  the  attractive  words,  "  Bontemps,  Horo- 
logier,  d,  Paris."  Then,  again,  there  were  a  few 
specimens  of  horizontal  and  perpendicular  sun- 
dials, engraven  on  brass ;  and  an  assortment  of  the 
massive  silver-faced  repeating  watches  then  in 
fashion,  which,  by  an  almost  infinity  of  movements, 
gave  as  much  information  as  a  modern  almanack. 
Above  the  door  projected  a  most  resplendent  sign, 
carved,  coloured,  and  gilded,  in  such  style  as  to 
shame  all  the  others  in  the  street ;  though  many  a 
gaily  painted  board  creaked  as  it  swung  from  the 
flourished  iron  work  that  was  suspended  befure 
every  house. 


It  was  on  a  summer's  afternoon,  when,  with  the 
degree  of  A.B.,  I  bad  quitted  my  University,  that  I 
armed  by  the  Oxford  Eagle,  after  a  passage  of  a 
day  and  a  night,  safe  in  London.  I  procured  my 
baggage  to  be  sent  from  the  inn,  and  returned  to 
take  what  my  new  landlady  called  "  my  afternoon 
tea"  with  her.  Although  I  was  a  stranger,  and  her 
lodger,  Mrs.  Pendulum  was  not  backward  in  her 
conversation,  and  the  discourse  turned  to  some 
curious  specimens  of  clock-work  standing  in  the 
room,  which  introduced  a  host  of  stories,  the  last 
of  which  related  to  an  eminent  astrologer,  who  had 
formerly  lived  in  the  house,  and  enjoyed  a  very 
great  degree  of  practice  and  patronage  from  all 
descriptions  of  persons ;  and,  as  this  interested  me, 
I  was  particularly  curious  in  my  inquiries,  to  which 
my  landlady  thus  generally  replied. 

"  Ow,  I  dinna  ken  muckle  about  him,  only  that 
he  was  caa'd  Tolemie  Horoscope,  as  it's  said  ;  and 
that  he  sleepit  in  the  room  that  ye're  to  sleep  in ; 
an9  that  he  tauld  the  fortunes  of  all  the  world,  for 
the  people  wad  be  coming  in  the  morn,  and  in  the 
day  time,  and  in  the  dark  night,  when  naebody 
could  see  them.  And  ye  see  that  when  the  auld 
warlock  was  gane,  and  my  auld  Pendulum  took  the 
booth,  which  was  soon  after  his  death,  we  found 
such  hantels  o'  curious  papers." 

Well,"  said  I,  with  some  anxiety,  "  and  what 
did  you  do  with  them  ?" 

"Aye,  Mr.  Slowclarke,  we  e'en  sold  them  for 
the  paper  to  auld  Moses  Baggitt,  the  Israelitish  rag 
merchant.  They  war  not  for  the  likes  o*  us  to 
keep." 

Such  was  the  slight  information  I  received  on 


36 

the  subject  of  the  astrologer  from  Mrs.  Pendulum ; 
but,  even  when  I  retired  to  rest,  it  was  still  present 
to  my  thoughts;  and  in  my  night  visions  it  was 
still  present  before  me,  for  I  had  the  following 
dream : — 

The  apartment  in  which  I  was  sleeping  seemed 
to  shift  and  change  its  appearance,  until  only  the 
bed  remained  of  its  usual  furniture.  An  old  carved 
oaken  cabinet,  a  table,  and  some  chairs  of  the  same 
material,  rose  before  me  ;  while  a  man  of  a  middle 
age,  with  an  oval  face,  and  long  flowing  hair, 
clothed  in  a  black  Spanish  habit,  was  seated  writing 
by  a  lamp ;  and  before  him  were  scattered  papers, 
books,  spheres,  and  various  astrological  instruments. 
At  length  he  ceased  from  his  employment,  and, 
closing  the  volume,  placed  it,  with  the  other  papers, 
in  a  secret  drawer  of  the  cabinet;  and  sighing 
heavily,  said,  "  Rest  there !  thou  miserable  record 
of  sin  and  sorrow,  avarice,  folly,  and  all  the  other 
vices  of  mankind  !  Rest  there !  thou  record  of  the 
wide  astrological  practice  of  Ptolemy  Horoscope, 

THE  IDOLIZED  ASTROLOGER  OF  LlTTLE  BRITAIN  ; 

who  has  rendered  this  house,  this  chamber,  this 
part  of  the  city,  famous  for  ever,  by  the  high 
personages  who  have  sought  the  skill  which  he 
possesses.  Rest  there !  till  some  one  in  future 
years  shall  haply  find  thee,  and  shall  publish  to  his 
countrymen  thy  memorials  of  the  guilt  and  folly  of 
departed  ages  ,? 

There  seemed  to  follow  a  most  dreadful  jangling, 
as  if  all  the  steeples  in  London  had  been  shaken  by 
an  earthquake,  and  all  their  bells  partook  of  their 
convulsions.  When  my  ear  became  sensible  of 
distinguishing,  I  discovered  that  it  was  three  in  the 


37 

morning:  but  I  found  it  impossible  to  sleep;  and 
my  thoughts  naturally  reverted  to  my  dream, 
whilst  I  remembered  with  no  slight  curiosity 
the  ancient  oaken  cabinet,  with  its  contents. 
But  this  vision  and  its  subject  both  passed  away; 
sidy  as  superstition  is  not  one  of  my  most 
powerful  feelings,  it  had  entirely  left  my  mind, 
until,  in  an  obscure  part  of  London,  I  one  day  met 
with  an  old  oaken  cabinet,  the  same  as  I  had  already 
seen  in  my  dream,  exposed  for  sale !  Like  the  gar- 
dener in  the  Eastern  tale,  had  I  possessed  but  ten 
golden  decemars  in  the  world,  I  had  purchased  it. 
I  felt  an  irresistible  impulse  to  make  it  mine :  and 
when  it  was  once  more  placed  in  its  own  native 
apartment,  conceive  my  surprise,  when,  with  a  pal- 
pitating heart  and  nervous  hand,  I  found  the  spring, 
threw  open  the  secret  drawer,  and  discovered  the 
astrologer  s  manuscripts !  The  chief  of  these  was 
an  old  vellum  book,  filled  with  drawings  of  astro- 
logical figures,  and  their  particular  histories  attached 
to  each,  the  characters  of  which  were  precisely  as 
he  had  described  them.  Some  were  of  a  public, 
some  of  a  private  nature ;  and  on  a  piece  of  old 
yellow  paper  were  the  following  words,  descriptive 
of  them,  written  in  Latin,  in  an  ancient  hand,  and 
in  an  ink  which  had  faded,  through  time,  to  a  pale 
brown  colour. 

"  It  is  not  only  to  the  Science  of  Astrology  that 
my  studies  have  been  confined ;  since  in  this  chest 
are  contained  all  the  proofs  thj&t  I  have  made  some 
progress  in  those  arts  which,  as  Lilly  saith,  are 
'above  and  beyond  it.'  In  Geomancy,  in  the  use 
of  the  Crystal,  in  the  conversing  with  Spirits,  in 
that  almost  obsolete   part   of  Astrology  entitled 


38 

Sachaomatike,  or  the  formation  of  Sigils,  and  in 
the  discovery  of  future  events  by  the  mirror,  Lhavo 
studied  deeply,  and  that  with  no  vain  prospect  of 
success.  But,  of  all  kinds  of  learning,  it  is  this 
which  soonest  corrodes  and  eats  up  the  heart:  it 
preys  upon  the  spirits ;  it  devours  the  soul  with 
melancholy ;  and  the  body  is  wasted  away  through 
the  vigils,  ceremonials,  and  fastings,  attendant 
thereon.  Finding  this,  like  many  others  who  have 
trodden  the  same  path  before  me,  I  destroyed  most 
of  my  materials,  which  instructed  me  in  those 
curious  arts,  and  have  since  attached  myself  to  the 
astrological  science  only. 

"Ptolemy  Horoscope. 

"  Little  Britain,  at  the  Globe  and  Cornet, 
this  V2th  day  of  March,  1750." 

The  box  also  contained  a  manuscript,  fairly  and 
closely  written  in  the  Latin  language,  interspersed 
with  drawings  of  sigils  and  figures  of  the  various 
angels  who  were  consulted  on  the  different  cases. 
There  were  also  some  of  those  mystical  jewels, 
which  were  formerly  used  by  those  persons  who 
pretended  to  a  knowledge  of  magic  and  divination ; 
such  as  several  thin  plates  of  gold  and  silver,  of 
various  shapes,  inscribed  with  a  number  of  different 
devices,  as  well  as  the  names  of  some  angelic 
spirits,  and  other  sacred  titles,  engraven  chiefly  in 
the  Greek  and  Hebrew  characters.  Besides  these, 
there  was  a  small  case  of  solid  gold,  measuring 
about  an  inch  square,  on  one  side  of  which  was 
drawn  a  circle,  having  seven  Chaldaic  names  traced 
in  the  circumference  of  it,  and  forming  a  border  to 
a  large  clear  crystal,  which  was  set  like  a  mirror 


39 

beneath  it.  Near  this  curious  instrument  was  a 
mystic  invocation,  entitled  "  A  Call  to  the  Cryttat," 
written  in  a  very  beautiful  small  band,  upon  a  very 
fine  piece  of  vellum,  which  was  sufficient  to  explain 
that  its  use  was  to  summon  the  spirits,  consulted  by 
the  astrologer,  to  a  conference  within  the  crystal. 
I  shall  now  call  the  reader's  attention  to  one  of 
th almost  extraordinary  stories,  which  I  found  in  the 
oaken  casket.  It  was  adorned  in  the  original  by 
the  delineation  of  a  sigil,  or  magic  medal,  men- 
tioned and  described  in  the  notes,  and  by  the  figure 
of  a  horoscope.  But  what  was  my  surprise,  when 
one  of  the  metal  charms  already  mentioned  proved 
to  be  engraven  with  the  very  same  characters,  and 
to  be  that  hereafter  spoken  of;  which,  when  the 
reader  has  gone  through,  he  will  discover  the  cause 
of  my  astonishment. 

A  Legend  of  Lombard  Street. 

It  was,  then,  in  the  house  of  Louis  Bezant,  an 
eminent  merchant  adventurer,  goldsmith,  and  banker, 
who  lived  about  the  year  1 745,  at  the  sign  of  the  Arms 
of  Lombardy,  in  Lombard  Street,  that  several  per- 
sons of  the  family  were  met,  with  joy  in  their  looks 
%nd  anticipation  in  their  hearts,  to  witness  the  return 
of  young  Edmund  Bezant,  the  eldest  son,  from 
America,  where  he  had  been  a  resident  almost  from 
his  infancy.  The  cause  of  his  having  been  sent  to 
that  country  was  briefly  thus : — At  the  time  of  bis 
birth,  his  father  resolved  upon  having  bis  nativity 
carefully  calculated ;  and  it  was  not  difficult,  from 
the  numerous  excellent  astrological  scholars  made 


40 

< 

by  Booker,  Lilly,  and  many  others,  in  the  seven- 
teenth century,  to  find  an  artist  who  speedily  drew 
up  young  Edmund's  horoscope  upon  paper;  and  a 
more  singular  combination  of  virtue  and  vice,  ability 
and  weakness,  prosperity  and  misery,  was  seldom 
seen  or  inspected.  The  judgment  of  his  Nativity 
stated  that  "  his  ten  youngest  years  should  be  per- 
fectly happy  and  virtuous  ;  his  youthful  ten,  weak 
frivolous,  extravagant,  and  within  a  step  of  vice 
and  the  ten  which  included  his  manhood,  afflicted 
gloomy,  distressing  in  a  very  great  degree,  and  ter 
minating  untimely  and  unhappily."  For  all  thes^ 
evils,  two  causes  were  pointed  out :  in  the  first  in- 
stance, he  would  be  of  a  disposition  unfitted  for  the 
world,  because  he  would  hold  its  every-day  actions 
and  feelings  in  contempt ;  and  secondly,  his  misfor- 
tunes would  arise  from  an  insatiate  thirst  for  learn- 
ing, which,  joined  to  an  induction  of  amazing 
readiness,  would  lead  him  through  many  abstruse 
studies,  until  at  length  all  his  powers  being  worn 
out,  they  would  be  lost  in  a  boundless  sea  of 
useless  knowledge,  blended  with  much  presump- 
tion, and  not  void  of  guilt. 

"  From  this  wretched  state,"  continued  the  Nati- 
vity, "  he  will  endeavour  to  escape,  by  flying  to  the 
opposite  extreme ;  and  here  he  will  meet  his  ruin. 
One,  whose  society  shall  be  the  delight  of  his  life, 
if  he  be  not  the  rock  on  which  his  soul  shall  split, 
will  at  least  be  that  where  his  earthly  peace  shall 
be  wrecked,  and  the  cause  of  his  early  death.  The 
stars  and  their  courses  are  in  the  hand  of  a  mighty 
Ruler,  and  all  this  may  not  be;  but  the  caution 
arising  from  it  is — Beware  of  the  connexions  of  his 
youthful  days." 


41 

In  consequence  of  this*  a  favourite  divine,  Fervent 
Corsegrave,  who  had  been  bred  up  in  America, 
proposed  his  being  sent  into  New  England,  and 
entrusted  to  the  care  of  a  faithful  relative ;  which,  as 
the  divine  was  a  great  friend  of  the  family,  was  readily 
consented  to ;  and  from  tune  to  time  the  accounts 
which  were  received  from  New  England  were  satis- 
factory :  but  when  the  young  Edmund  was  verging 
towards  the  age  of  twenty,  reports  changed,  and  he 
was  represented  as  wild  and  profligate,  "  He  is/' 
said  the.  letter  which  brought  the  news,  "  extrava- 
gantly attached  to  hunting,  nor  does  he  return  for 
many  days  and  nights  together  from  these  hazard- 
ous excursions ;  so  that  we  are  more  fearful  for  that 
society  in  which  he  may  pass  his  nights,  than  any 
of  the  dangers  by  day ;  for  the  Indians  too  often 
practise  the  accursed  art  of  witchcraft,  calling  tip 
foul  spirits  to  their  midnight  meetings.  There  is, 
however,  one  who  is  called  by  the  name  of  Paul 
Ballet*  who  doth  constantly  attend  upon  the  young 
Edmund,  in  whose  company  we  have  sent  thy  son 

back." 

Such  was  the  history  of  the  individual  whom 

the  party  at  the  "  Arms  of  Lombardy"  were  met  to 
receive  and  welcome*.  He  was  in  person  tall  and 
handsome,  with  a  deep  olive  countenance  tinctured 
with  melancholy,  occasionally  lighted  up  by  a 
bright  smile,  which  would  sometimes  become  dis- 
torted like  a  sybil's  in  the  moment  of  prophecy,  or 
a  witch's  at  the  time  of  incantation.  His  compa- 
nion (Paul  Hallet)  was  a  tall  and  thin  figure,  plainly 
dressed,  wholly  devoid  of  colour  in  his  face,  and  in 
whose  eyes  there  was  something  at  once  terrific  and 
interesting :  but  it  was  over  the  younger  man  that 

F 


4-2 

his  glances  seemed  to  possess  a  supernatural  power, 
for  the  moment  his  companion  looked  upon  him,  he 
started  with  horror,  and  became  possessed  with  the 
most  terrible  and  frantic  emotions. 

"  Edmund,  my  boy  Edmund !"  cried  Louis  Bezant, 
as  his  son  entered  the  room,  "  My  father !"  returned 
the  youth,  €t  what  a  long  and  unhappy  separation 
has  ours  been!  Oh!  I  conjure  you,  let  me  not 
return  to  that  dreadful    country  again,   which    is 

haunted  by  the  foulest  of  spirits "     Here  his 

voice  suddenly  failed  him,  he  looked  round  upon  Paul 
Hallet,  and  cried  with  earnestness. — "  Nay,  tor- 
ment me  not  now,  it  is  before  your  hour !  I  will 
say  no  more,  so  thou  wilt  not  torment  me  nowl 
My  father,  touch  him  not :  I  am  delivered  over  to 
them  for  a  season — for  I  ■  ■  /  am  a  possessed 
one!" 

It  was  with  considerable  grief  that  the  Bezant 
family  beheld  the  mind  of  their  young  relative  so 
unstrung  and  overclouded  :  the  fits  seldom  left  him. 
He  would  sometimes  sit  and  sing,  most  plaintively, 
portions  of  hymns,  and  then  suddenly  he  would 
burst  out  with  a  wild  strain,  that  sounded  like  a 
wizard's  incantation,  whilst  his  gestures  were  no 
less  terrific,  as  he  would  writhe,  and  exhibit  all  the 
actions  of  one  under  the  greatest  tortures,  although 
there  was  not  any  outward  reason  for  such  conduct. 
It  was  observed,  however,  that  Paul  Hallet  seemed 
to  influence  him  in  all  things  :  if  he  were  present, 
and  smiled,  Edmund  looked  for  rest.  It  was  no  less 
singular,  too,  that  he  spake  as  if  that  person  were 
always  near  him,  whether  he  was  in  the  room  or 
not.  Time  passed  away  while  these  things  were 
observed,  but  the  grief  into  which  it  threw  his  sister 


43 

Adelaide,  determined  her  to  commit  the  whole  of 
her  information  to  writing,  and  taking  with  it  a  copy 
of  the  scheme  of  his  nativity,  she  presented  it  to 
Ptolemy  Horoscope,  who  gazed  on  it  in  sadness 
and  silence,  but  at  length  thus  spake  : — 

"  You  have  done  wisely,  my  daughter,  in  bring- 
xig  this  case  before  me.  I  can  afford  you  relief,  for 
kk  three  days  I  will  frame  you  a  powerful  Sigil  of 
virgin  gold,  which  shall  be  inscribed  with  certain 
sacred  names,  and  which,  when  hung  about  the  neck 
of  the  possessed  one,  shall  drive  the  evil  spirit  far 
from  him.  But  then  he  must  live  piously,  and 
repent  fervently ;  for  this,  though  a  potent,  is  but  a 
secondary,  influence :  yet  must  he  on  no  account 
lose  the  Sigil,  for  then  will  the  fiend  return  with  re* 
doubled  rage.     Let  all  this  be  done  with  secresy." 

According  to  his  promise  the  astrologer  acted, 
and  the  same  hour  that  the  Sigil  was  given  to  Ed  • 
mund  his  fits  departed  ;  while,  what  was  still  more 
remarkable,  Paul  Hallet  came  soon  after  to  take 
leave  of  the  elder  Bezant,  and  stating  "  that  he  was 
compelled  to  leave  him,"  immediately  quitted  the 
house. 

It  was  some  years  subsequent  to  these  circum- 
stances, when  they  were  no  longer  spoken  of, — for 
to  Edmund  the  memory  of  all  his  past  sufferings  had 
entirely  left  his  mind, — that  Mrs.  Miriam  Fairfax, 
a  pious  relative,  who  was  present  accidentally,  disco- 
vered Horoscope's  golden  Sigil  hanging  at  his  breast. 
Upon  inquiring  of  him  as  to  its  signification,  he 
stated  that  his  sister  had  placed  it  round  his  neck, 
ten  years  back,  as  a  preservative  from  evil  spirits. 

"A  preservative  from  evil  spirits!"  ejaculated 
Mrs.  Fairfax,  in  anger.  "  She  is  for  opposing  Satan's 


44 

shield  to  Satan's  sword ;  but  that  may  not  be,  Mr. 
Corsgrave,"  continued  she  to  that  minister,  who 
was  standing  by. 

•'  Most  honourable  lady,  no,"  returned  he.  "  Cast 
it  off,  my  young  friend,  and  believe  me  thou  shalt 
be  under  surer  protection,  than  if  thou  hadst  a 
thousand  Sigils. "  Overcome  by  their  persuasions, 
Edmund  took  the  medal  from  his  neck,  and  as  he 
did  so,  Paul  Hallet  entered  the  room,  and  attempted 
to  seize  it ;  but  ere  he  could  touch  it,  it  was  gone, 
and  no  one  knew  by  what  means !  When  his  guar- 
dian had  thus  mysteriously  departed,  the  fits  of 
possession  again  seized  young  Bezant  with  increased 
rage,  and  with  all  the  appearance  of  deadly  con- 
vulsions. €€  My*hour  of  departure  is  arrived,"  said 
he,  "  and  I  shall  be  for  ever  free  from  the  tyranny 
of  Paul  Hallet." 

t€  Call  me  not  by  that  name !"  replied  the  stranger. 
u  Fervent  Corsgrave,  look  upon  thy  father !" 

"  My  father !"  exclaimed  Corsgrave  in  terror,  "  he 
died,  and  was  buried  in  New  England." 

"  True,"  said  the  appearance ;  "  but  his  spirit 
hath  no  rest,  because  of  his  crimes :  it  hath  wan- 
dered over  the  earth  which  he  dishonoured  by  his 
cruelty,  and  deceived  by  his  hypocrisy ;  and  it  hath 
been  used  as  the  instrument  of  punishing  and  in- 
structing one  who  else  would  have  fallen  to  destruc- 
tion. Farewell !  ye  shall  see  me  no  more,  but  let 
my  permitted  appearance  affright  you  from  my  sins." 
As  he  spake  these  words  he  ceased  to  be  visible, 
without  any  flash  of  light  or  sign  of  vanishing,  but 
disappeared  suddenly  and  instantaneously ;  whilst, 
at  the  same  moment,  with  a  smile  of  angelic  beauty 
on  his  cheek,  the  soul  of  the  Possessed  One  left  his  body  ! 


46 

TRADITIONS  AND  SUPERSTITIONS  OF 

FORMER  TIMES. 


A  CURIOUS  CHARM  TO  BIND  OR   COMPEL  A  THIEF. 

To  bind  a  thief  so  that  he  shall  have  neither  rest 
aor  peace  till  he  return  thee  thy  lost  goods,  go  to 
the  place  from  whence  they  were  stolen  away,  and 
write  the  name  of  the  person  or  persons  thou  sus- 
pectest  upon  parchment,  and  put  the  same  under- 
neath the  threshold  of  the  door  they  went  out  of. 
Then  make  four  crosses  on  the  four  comers  or  posts 
of  the  doorway,  and  go  your  ways  saying,  "  Thou 
thief,  which  hast  stolen  and  taken  away  such  a  thing 
from  this  place,  Abraham,  by  his  virtue  and  the 
power  God  gave  him,  call  thee  back  again, — Isaac, 
fay  his  power,  stop  thee  in  the  way, — Jacob  make 
thee  go  no  fhrther,but  bring  them  again, — and  Joseph, 
by  his  power  and  virtue,  and  also  by  the  grace  and 
might  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  force  thee  to  come  again 
into  this  place ; — and  that  neither  Solomon  let  thee, 
nor  David  bid  thee;  but  that  the  same  through 
Christ  our  Lord  do  cause  thee  presently,  and  without 
stay,  to  come  again  into  this  place,  and  bring  them 
with  thee.  Fiat,  fiat,  fiat,  cito,  cito,  cito.  In  the 
name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  Amen."  Repeat  these  words  three  times,  and 
the  thief  shall  not  rest,  nor  delay,  till  he  return  thee 
thy  goods. — Ancient  Manuscript. 

A    CHARM    TO    8TOP    BLEEDING    AT   THE    NOSE. 

Touch  the  nose,  and  say,  nine  times  with  great 
faith,  these  words,—"  Blood  abide  in  this  vein  as 
Christ  abideth  in  the  Church,  and  hide  in  thee  as 


46 


Christ  hideth  from  himself;" — and  the  bleeding  will 
presently  cease,  to  the  admiration  of  all  present. 


ANCIENT  AUGURY  AND  SOOTHSAYING. 

Augury  is  the  art  of  inspection,  and  prognosti- 
cating or  soothsaying,  by  observation  of  birds  and 
beasts,  and  was  in  great  repute  among  the  ancients. 
The  Lacedemonians  had  always  an  augur  to  attend 
upon  their  kings ;  and  among  the  Romans  was  a 
college  of  augurs. 

Romulus  himself  was  a  soothsayer,  and  ordained 
that  the  choice  of  magistrates  should  be  confirmed 
by  augury ;  and  so  fond  were  the  ancients  of  this 
art,  as  to  ordain  that  nothing  of  public  or  private 
affairs  should  be  transacted  without  it.  In  taking 
the  auspices,  it  was  observed  whether  the  beasts 
came  willingly  to  the  altar  or  not — whether  the  en- 
trails were  of  a  natural  colour,  and  not  exulcerated, 
or  whether  any  parts  were  defective  or  wanting. 
Thus,  when  the  Emperor  Augustus  found  two  galls 
in  his  sacrifice,  it  was  considered  as  prognosticate 
of  peace  with  Antony,  and  the  amity  of  state  dis- 
sentients. 

Because  Brutus  and  Cassius  met  a  blackamoor, 
and  Pompey  had  on  a  garment  of  dark  colours,  at 
the  battle  of  Pharsalia,  these  were  said  to  be  pre- 
sages of  their  overthrow.  When  Gracoeus  was 
slain,  the  same  day  the  augurs  observed  that  the 
sacred  chickens  vthat  were  kept  for  the  purposes  of 
divination, N  refused  to  come  out  of  their  coop.  So 
the  death  of  Caesar  was  divined,  from  the  unusual 
noise  and  clattering  of  armour  in  his  house.  In 
like  manner,  the  poisoning  of  Germanicus  was  pre- 


47 

raged  by  the  strange  circumstance  (according  to 
historians)  of  a  trumpet  sounding  of  its  own  accord. 
About  anno  1300,  a  painted  horse,  on  the  walls  of 
the  imperial  palace  of  the  Emperor  And ronicus,  was 
said  to  neigh  with  great  loudness, — which  was  judged 
a  happy  omen  to  that  Emperor,  and  his  Chancellor 
congratulated  him  in  the  expectation  of  future 
triumphs ;  and  when  Baldwin,  emperor  of  the  Latins, 
was  beaten  out  of  Constantinople  by  his  father,  his 
horse  neighed  with  a  strange  and  hollow  sound, 
which  was  thought  by  his  courtiers  (as  it  proved) 
ominous  of  great  disasters. 

An   owl  screeching  in  the   Senate-house,   was 
deemed  ominous  and  boding  ill-luck  to  the  Emperor 
Augustus.  A  company  of  crows  following  Sejanus  to 
his  house  with  great  noise  and  clamour,  was  judged 
to  be  fatal,  and  so  indeed  it  proved. — Romulus  had 
the  empire  promised  him  before  his  brother  Remus, 
by  the  soothsayers,  because  he  had  seen  the  double 
number  of  vultures. — So  our  William  the  Conqueror, 
when  he  first  stepped  on  land,  his  foot  slipping,  he 
fell  down  and  got  some  dirt  in  his  hand,  which  his 
attendants  fearing  to  be  .an  evil  omen,  he  said,  "  No ; 
I  have,  by  this  fall,  but  taken  possession  of  this  island/9 
Also,  a  swarm  of  bees  hovering  over  St.  Ambrose, 
as  also  Plato  the  philosopher,  when  infants  in  their 
cradles,  was  judged  to  portend  "  that  great  wisdom 
should  flow  from  their  mouths,  which  would  enrap- 
ture mankind.'* 

MIDSUMMER  CHARM,    TO  KNOW  WHEN  ANT  ONE 

SHALL    DIE. 

To  ascertain  whether  a  person  will  die  %n  the  cur- 
rent year,  the  country  folk,  in  some  places,  about 


48 

Midsummer,  pluck  some  of  the  herb  St.  Johns  wort, 
before  sunrise  in  the  morning,  and  hide  it  in  the 
walls  in  various  parts  of  the  house.  The  bunches 
which  immediately  droop,  announce  with  certainty 
(it  is  said)  the  speedy  death  of  those  who  placed 
them  there;  but  if  the  herb  remains  fresh  and 
green,  then  the  person  who  placed  it  there  will  not 
die  during  that  year. 

A    MARRIAGE    OMEN. 

Among  the  peasantry  of  Westphalia,  and  in  some 
parts  of  Wales,  young  females  knock,  on  Christmas 
Eve,  at  the  hen-house.  If  a  hen  first  cackles,  they 
relinquish  all  hopes  of  being  married  during  the 
ensuing  year ;  but  if  a  cock  crows  first,  they  deem 
it  an  infallible  omen  of  their  being  married  before 
the  ensuing  year  expires. 


ifta&ual  £uffumi$9timi0, 

AND    THEIR    WONDERFUL   EFFICACY. 

The  ancient  philosophers  affirm,  that  "  no  one 
should  *  wonder  how  great  things  suffu irrigations 
(the  burning  of  certain  perfumes  or  substances)  can 
do  in  the  air,  especially  when  he  shall  with  Porphyry 
consider,  that  by  certain  vapours  exhaling  from 
proper  sufFumigations,  airy  spirits  are  presently 
raised ;  as  also  thunderings  and  lightnings,  and  such 
like  things. 

The  liver  of  a  camelion  being  burnt  upon  the  top 
of  a  house,  doth,  as  it  is  manifest,  raise  showers  and 
lightnings ; — in  like  manner,  the  head  and  throat,  if 
they  be  burnt  with  the  wood  of  the  oak,  cause 
lightnings  and  tempests. 


49 

There  are  also  suffumigations  under  opportune 
constellations  and  benevolent  influences  of  the  stars, 
that  make  the  images  of  spirits  forthwith  appear  in 
the  air,  or  other  mediums.  It  is  said,  that  if  a  fume 
be  made  of  coriander,  smallage,  henbane,  and  hem- 
lock,  spirits  will  presently  come  together,  and  be* 
come  visible :  hence  are  they  called  "  the  spirits9 
herbs.**  Also  make  a  fume  of  the  root  of  the  reedy 
herbsagapen,  the  juice  of  hemlock  and  henbane, 
tapas,  barbetus,  red  sanders,  and  black  poppy; 
it  makes  spirits  and  strange  shapes  appear.  If 
smallage  be  added  thereto,  it  chases  away  spirits 
from  any  place,  and  destroys  their  visions. 

Again ;  a  fume  made  of  mint,  calamint,piony,  and 
patma  christi  (herbs  easily  obtained),  it  drives  away 
all  evil  spirits,  and  vain  or  fearful  imaginations. 
Hermes  affirms,  that  there  is  nothing  better  than  the 
fume  of  spermaceti  for  the  raising  of  spirits ;  and  if 
a  fume  be  made  of  that,  and  lignum  aloes,  pepper, 
nrosk,  saffron,  and  red  thorax, .  tempered  together 
with  the  blood  of  a  lapwing,  it  will  quickly  gather 
aerial  spirits  together.  And  if  it  be  used  about  the 
graves  of  the  dead,  it  gathers  together  spirits,  and 
the  souls  of  the  dead.  Some  say,  that  a  fume  made 
with  linseed  and  fleabane  seed,  and  the  roots  of 
violets  and  parsley,  it  maketh  one  to  foresee  things  to 
come,  and  doth  conduce  to  prophesying. 

If  a  house,  or  any  place,  be  smoked  with  the  gall 
of  a  cuttle  fish,  made  into  a  confection  with  red 
*torax,  roses,  and  lignum  aloes,  and  if  there  be 
some  water  or  blood  cast  into  that  place,  the  house 
will  seem  to  be  full  of  water  or  blood ;  and  if  some 
e*rth  of  a  newly-ploughed  ground  be  cast  there,  the 


60 

earth  will  seem  to  quake,  and  be  convulsed  as  in  an 
earthquake. 

Others  write,  that  if  any  one  shall  hide  gold 
or  silver,  or  any  other  precious  thing,  on  Sunday, 
Monday,  or  Tuesday,  days  attributed  to  0,  S ,  and 
J> ,  and  shall  fume  the  place  with  coriander,  saffron, 
henbane,  smallage,  and  black  poppy,  of  each 
like  quantity,  bruised  together,  and  tempered  with 
the  juice  of  hemlock,  that  which  is  so  hid,  shall 
never  be  discovered  or  taken  away ;  for  they  affirm 
that  spiritual  intelligences  shall  continually  bear 
watch  over  it;  and  if  any  one  shall  endeavour  to 
take  it  away,  he  shall  be  hurt  by  these  invisible 
agents,  or  will  become  possessed  of  an  incurable 
frenzy. — MSS.  of  Cornelius  Agrippa. 


THE   ASTROLOGER. 

No.  II. 


OF  THE  MOST  FORTUNATE  TIMES  OF  THE  DAY 
TO  BE  BORN,  BY  THE  COURSE  OF  THE  SUN. 

The  Horoscope,  or  twelve  houses  of  heaven,  made 
use  of  by  astrologers  in  their  scientific  researches, 
are  constituted  by  dividing  the  path  or  diurnal 
course  of  the  sun,  in  his  rising,  culminating,  setting, 
and  coming  to  the  midnight  quadrant  (or  in  other 
words,  of  the  earth's  diurnal  motion  around  its  own 
axis,  although  the  former  is  more  easily  compre- 
hended). Hence  there  are  certain  times  of  the  day, 
throughout  the  year,  which  are  more  likely  to  cause 


61 

nativities  of  notoriety,  fame,  and  success,  or  emi- 
nence in  life,  than  others ;  the  philosophical  cause 
of  which  is  neither  more  or  less  than  the  particular 
position  of  the  sun,  with  respect  to  that  part  of 
heaven  he  may  happen  to  be  in,  when  the  infant 
stranger  first  draws  breath  in  this  sublunary  region, 
and  becomes  subject  to  what  Shakspeare  terms 
"  the  skiey  influences.'9 

OP  THOSE   WHO   ARE    BORN  NEAR  THE   MIDDLE  OP 

THE    DAT. 

Persons,  therefore,  of  either  sex,  who  are  born 
during  the  winter  season,  from  eleven  to  twelve 
o clock  in  the  day ;  in  the  summer  season,  from  ten 
to  twelve ;  and  during  the  spring  and  autumn  sea- 
tons,  from  half  past  ten  o  clock  till  noon  day;  will 
have  the  sun  in  the  tenth  house  or  meridian  of  their 
nativities ;  and  from  that  circumstance  alone  (owing 
to  the  great  power  of  the  sun  over  the  respectability 
or  dignity  of  life),  will,  making  due  allowances  for 
talents  and  education,  be  more  than  usually  successful 
**i  noted  in  their  pursuits  ;  will  generally  spend  the 
greater  part  of  their  lives  in  some  active  or  honour- 
able mode  of  business  or  profession  ;  will  have  nume- 
rous connexions  and  acquaintances  of  note,  or  of  an 
honourable  nature ;  and  may  be  thus  said  to  be  born 
fortunate.  Females  born  near  noon-day,  usually 
many  either  advantageously,  or  much  above  the 
natural  course  of  their  expectations. 

Of  course,  those  who  are  born  nearest  to  noon 
day  (but  not  past  it),  are  the  most  fortunate ;  for  the 
iobr  influence  is  then  most  powerful. 


52 


OF  THE  FATE  OF  THOSE  BORN  NEAR  MIDNIGHT. 

Pursuing  the  same  philosophical  mode  of  reason- 
ing, it  will  be  found  that  those,  who  are  born  in  the 
winter  season,  from  two  hours  preceding  midnight 
(or  from  ten  to  twelve  o'clock  at  night),  will  be  from 
astral  causes  born  also  to  distinction,  publicity,  and 
a  proportionable  share  of  eminence.  Those  born  in 
the  summer  season,  from  eleven  to  twelve  at  night, 
and  in  the  spring  and  autumn,  from  about  a 
quarter  past  eleven  o'clock  till  twelve  at  night, 
will  be  fated  to  the  same  success  and  good  fortune, 
the  sun  being  in  those  person's  horoscopes,  in  the 
north  angle  of  the  heaven  :  yet  those  persons  are  by 
no  means  so  fortunate  as  others  born  at  the  same 
hours  in  the  day  time  (unless  other  configurations 
exist  to  add  to  the  solar  influence) ;  and  it  is  a  sin- 
gular peculiarity  in  nativities  of  this  kind,  that  those 
born  within  an  hour  or  two  of  midnight,  have  uni- 
formly the  most  remarkable  events  of  their  lives  take 
place  after  their  thirtieth  year  is  gone  by.  Whereas 
those  born  near  noon,  are  popular  the  greater  part  of 
their  lives,  both  before  and  after  thirty. 

Persons  born  with  the  majority  of  the  planets 
under  the  earth,  are  liable  to  extraordinary  events  in 
the  latter  half  of  their  lives,  in  the  same  way ;  and 
it  is  generally  the  case,  that  persons  born  near  mid- 
night, are  certain  of  some  kind  of  a  name  after  death, 
meritorious  or  otherwise,  as  the  horoscope  in  itself 
evinces. 

Some  authors  affirm,  that  persons  born  at  those 
times  (that  is,  near  eleven  or  twelve  o'clock  at  night,) 
are  subject  to  see  visions,  dream  curious  dreams, 
pursue  singular  flights  of  genius  and  imagination,  and 


53 

to  be  for  the  most  part  believers  in  the  world  o 
spirits. 

OF    THOSE    BORN    NEAR    SUN-RISING. 

For  the  same  reason,  those  who  are  born  within 
an  hour  preceding  or  succeeding  sun-rise,  are  fated 
to  have  a  very  active  and  frequently  honourable 
existence,  to  rise  by  their  own  exertions,  and  to 
have  eminent  and  remarkable  friends. 

OF    THOSE    BORN    NEAR    SUN-SETTING. 

Lastly,  persons  born  with  the  sun  in  the  seventh 
house,  or  in  the  summer  season  within  two  hours  of 
son-set,  and  in  the  winter  within  an  hour  of  sun-set, 
are  certain  to  be  very  successful  and  active  in  busi  - 
ness,  and  expert  in  merchandize.  Females  usually 
marry  in  very  respectable  stations,  although  it  is  far 
more  fortunate  to  be  born  near  noon-day  or  sun- 
rising. 

OF   PERSONS    BORN    FORTUNATE,   ACCORDING   TO 

THE    MOON'S   COURSE. 

In  every  almanac,  there  is  given  the  time  of  what 
is  termed  the  "  moon's  southing :"  this  is  the  time 
when  the  moon  crosses  the  meridian;  now  those 
persons  who  are  born  within  an  hour  and  a  half  pre- 
ceding the  southing  of  the  moon,  and  within  half  an 
hour  succeeding  it,  have  the  moon  in  the  tenth  house 
of  heaven,  and  are  fated  to  be  travellers,  to  see  far 
distant  countries,  and  to  have  a  most  remarkable 
life;  replete  with  diversities,  changes,  and,  in  many 
respects,  a  great  variety  of  good  and  evil  fortune. 
But  for  changes,  publicity,  notoriety,  and  extensive 
acquaintances,  their  horoscopes  are  generally  re- 


64 

markable ;  the  moon  having  wonderful  power  when 
in,  or  near  the  meridian,  over  the  lives  and  fortunes 
of  all  who  are  born  under  such  a  celestial  position. 

Again,  those  who  are  born  within  half  an  hour  of 
the  moons  rising  and  setting,  (which  is  also  easily  seen 
by  the  most  common  almanac),  have  the  moon  angular 
either  in  the  first  or  seventh  house;  and  conse- 
quently are  certain  to  be  either  seafaring  persons, 
travellers,  or  subject  to  the  most  extraordinary 
changes.  But  it  is  more  fortunate  of  the  two,  to  be 
born  near  the  moon's  rising,  rather  than  the  setting; 
as  the  ascendant  in  all  nativities  has  the  greatest 
efficacy. 

By  attention  to  those  foregoing  simple  rules,  those 
persons  who  know  nothing  of  astrological  calcula- 
tions, may  learn  something  of  the  fate  to  which  they 
are  destined.  The  .following  curious  facts,  which 
have  already  been  noticed  in  the  different  periodicals 
of  the  day,  are  sufficient  to  prove  the  theory  of 

LUNAR    INFLUENCE. 

If  an  animal,  first  killed,  be  exposed  to  the  full 
effulgence  of  the  moon  beams,  it  will  in  a  few  hours 
become  a  mass  of  corruption  ;  whilst  another  animal 
not  exposed  to  such  influence,  and  only  a  few  feet 
distant,  will  not  be  in  the  slightest  manner  affected. 

Fruits  also,  when  exposed  to  the  moonshine,  have 
been  known  to  ripen  much  more  readily  than  those 
which  have  not ;  and  plants,  shut  out  from  the  sun's 
rays  and  from  light,  and  consequently  bleached,  have 
been  observed  to  assume  their  natural  appearance  if 
exposed  to  the  rays  of  a  full  moon. 

In  South  America,  trees  cut  at  the  full  moon,  split 
almost  immediately,  as  if  torn  asunder  by  great 


55 


external  force.  The  writer  of  these  observes,  *'  all 
these  are  remarkable  and  well  established  facts,  but  have 
never  as  yet  been  accounted  for." 


nativit: 


I74C 


HIKT8    AND   DISCOVERIES  TOR   STUDENTS. 

In  these  remarks,  I  shall  from  time  to  time,  intro- 
duce to  the  student's  notice,  those  facts  and  observa- 
tions which,  being  the  result  of  a  long  tried  and 
experienced  practice,  it  is  presumed  will  be  highly 
worthy  of  his  most  serious  and  profound  attention. 

The  Celestial  Period*  of  Mars  and  the  Sun. 

In  my  late  "  Manual  of  Astrology,"  I  have  given 
at  large  the  particular  periods  of  each  celestial  orb ; 
of  course  it  is  not  requisite  to  repeat  the  instruction 
there  given.  I  now  beg  leave  merely  to  point  out 
the  periods  of  two  powerful  planets;  the  first  of 
which  is  that  of  £ ,  which  it  will  be  observed  is  nine- 
teen years.  That  is,  in  every  nativity  8  returns  to 
his  place  at  birth,  when  nineteen  years  are  com- 
pleted from  the  birthday,  and  of  course  forms 
various  zodiacal  aspects  with  the  different  stars  in 
the  nativity,  according  as  they  may  be  placed  in 
house,  sign,  or  aspect.  Suppose,  for  instance,  a  person 
has  the  0  in  nineteen  8  in  his  nativity,  and  $  in  nine- 
teen iii ;  now  at  nine  years  and  six  months  (which  is 
the  half  period  of  $  )  Mars  comes  to  the  conjunction, 
or  place  of  the  sun  at  birth,  and  at  nineteen  years 
he  returns  to  his  own  place,  which  is  in  opposition 
thereto.   Each  of  these,  if  the  sun  were  hyleg,  wou^ 


56 

be  productive  of  serious  illness ;  but  whether  he 
were  hyleg  or  not,  would  give  much  trouble.  It  is 
the  same  thing  with  the  other  aspects  of  the  planets : 
for  instance,  were  $  and  8  in  a  zodiacal  o  at  birth, 
(a  well  known  evil  aspect),  every  conjunction,  quar- 
tile,  or  opposite  ray,  which  Mars  forms  by  his  peri- 
odical circuit  with  Mercury,  would  renew  the  trouble 
thereby  denoted.  This  would  take  place,  in  such  a 
case,  every  successive  period  of  four  years  and  nine 
months  the  time  of  his  quartik,  of  nine  years  and 
six  months  his  opposition,  and  of  nineteen  years  his 
conjunction,  or  return  to  his  place  in  the  radix. 

Again,  suppose  a  female  to  have  $  and  ?  in  ami- 
cable aspect  in  her  nativity ;  every  nineteen  years, 
Mars  would  come  to  his  own  place,  and  renew  the 
denotations  of  the  figure.  Now  it  is  a  well  known 
fact  among  students  in  astrology,  that  nine  females 
out  of  ten  are  involved  in  a  love  affair  when  about 
the  age  of  nineteen  years  old,  which  arises  solely 
from  S  and  $  being  in  some  kind  of  configuration 
at  birth,  whereby  Mars  returning  to  his  radical 
place  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  of  course  produces  a 
love  affair,  which  is  pleasant  or  otherwise,  as  the 
aspect  in  the  horoscope  portends ;  pleasant,  if  $  and 
$  be  in  friendly  aspect,  and  the  contrary,  if  in  evil 
configuration. 

The  Sun  has  the  same  period  as  Mars,  but  his 
configurations  not  producing  such  warmth  of  passion 
or  intensity  of  feeling  as  Mars;  females  usually 
marry  more  for  respectability  and  advancement  in 
life,  than  for  the  tender  passion,  under  his  aspects. 

The  Princess  Charlotte  married  exactly  (even  to 
a  day)  as  the  Sun  came  to  the  place  of  Jupiter,  by 
this  mode  of  direction;  and  what  is  more  singular 


57    . 

itiO,  %  in  »,  exactly  described  the  person  of  her 
husband  I  This  is  a  well  known  and  illustrious 
instance  of  the  truth  of  these  periods  of  the  planets ; 
and  which  no  one  can  disprove.  On  the  day  of  that 
lamented  princess's  birth,  the  ©  was  posited  in 
16°  54'  yjs  and  %  in  12°  12'  ss  :  now,  at  nineteen 
years  old,  the  sun  returned  to  his  zodiacal  place ;  and 
in  sixteen  months  he  would  have  moved,  on  the  same 
scale,  the  exact  number  of  degrees  and  minutes  to 
bring  him  to  the  conjunction  of  % .  I  mention  this 
chiefly  as  a  praxis  for  the  student  in  other  calcula- 
tions. 

The  chief  excellence  of  the  planetary  periods  con- 
sists in  this, — that,  allowing  the  time  of  birth  to  be 
erroneous  for  several  hours,  many  events  of  life  may 
be  discovered  by  their  means,  without  difficult  cal- 
culations.   This  is  a  desideratum  in  astrology. 


*  To  know  by  signs  to  judge  the  tarns  of  fate, 
Is  greater  than  to  fill  the  seats  of  state; 
11m  rating  stars  above,  by  secret  laws. 
Determine  Fortune  in  her  second  cause. 
These  are  a  book  wherein  we  all  may  read, 
And  all  should  know,  who  would  in  life  succeed, 
What  correspondent  signs  in  man  display 
His  future  actions — point  his  devious  way,— 
Thus  in  the  heavens  his  future  fate  to  learn, 
Hie  present,  past,  and  future  to  discern ; 
Crrrect  his  steps,  improve  the  hours  of  life, 
And,  shunning  error,  lite  devoid  of 


sTomAus, 


H 


58 

REMARKABLE   HOROSCOPES,   EVINCING   THI 
POWER  OF  THE  STARS  IN  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

R.     A. 

TOM.    11 


MISS  STOCKDALE, 

Born  Feb.  4,  1809, 

9  H.  35  M.  Clock  time, 


or  9  H.  21  M.  mean  Solar  time. 
Died,  July  4,  1820. 


5? 


—  3 


288.  11 


PLANETS'  DECLINATION. 

©  12°  30'  S. 

3>  7  15   S. 

I?  18  52   S. 

•a  4    0    S. 

g  7  30   S. 

9  4  12   N. 

8  6  13   rf. 

M  14  12   S. 


Ik  the  course  of  the  following  Work,  it  is  my 
intention  to  insert  the  Nativities  of  those  persons 
only,  whose  names,  or  those  of  their  families,  are 
either  known  to  the  public,  or  open  to  their  inqui- 
ries ;  that  the  enemies  of  this  sublime  science  may 
readily  ascertain  whether  the  stars  have  really  the 
power  we  astrologers  assign  to  them,  or  whether 
their  influence  is  merely  imaginary.  This  will  serve 
to  promote  the  cause  of  truth,  at  any  rate,  should  it 
do  nothing  else :  —I  trust,  however,  the  examples 
given  will  be  also  valuable  in  celestial  philosophy. 


THE  NATIVITY  OF  MISS  STOCKDALE. 

The  above  horoscope  is  a  correct  delineation  of 
the  heavens  and  heavenly  bodies,  at  the  birth  of 
Miss  Stockdale,  daughter  of  Mr.  Stockdale,  the 
noted  bookseller  and  publisher,  formerly  of  Pall  Mall. 
It  was  obtained  by  Mr.  John  Varley,  the  well  known 
artist,  from  the  young  lady's  parents,  from  whom 
the  author  of  this  book  received  it ;  and  certainly  it 
exhibits  a  most  striking  proof  of  astral  agency  over 
the  lives  and  destinies  of  finite  mortals ! 

The  subject  thereof,  a  particularly  interesting  and 
amiable  girl,  departed  this  life  on  the  4th  of  July, 
1^20,  at  the  age  of  eleven  years  and  nearly  five 
months.  By  inspecting  the  scheme,  it  will  be  mani- 
fest that  the  ascendant  is  the  true  hyleg,  or  "  giver 
°f  life, H  as  astrologers  term  it ;  and  the  planet  Saturn 
the  aimreta,  or  "  destroyer  of  life :"  since  that  planet 
is  posited  in  an  evil  position,  without  a  single  ray 
from  either  of  the  fortunes ;  and  nearly  in  zodiacal 
parallel  to  Herschel.    And  at  the  time  of  death  the 


60 

same  planet  came  to  a  semiquartile  of  the  ascendant, 
which  is  thus  calculated  : — 

The  ascensional  difference  of  i?  is  25  29 

To  this  add  (as  h  is  in  a  Southern  sign)  90     0 


This  gives  the  semi-nocturnal  arc  of  i?  1 15  29 

Then, 
To  the  right  ascension  of  h  •         241  40 

Add  half  his  semi-arc  .         .         57  45 


299  25 
Subtract  from  this  the  right  ascension 

of  the  Imum  Coeli        .         .         .     288  1 1 


The  arc  of  direction  .  11   14 


This,  by  the  Table  of  Time,  answers  exactly  to  eleven 
years  and  five  months,  the  period  of  dissolution. 

Summary  of  Fatal  Arcs. 

Yean.  Months. 

The  ascendant  to  the  semiquartile  of  i?  11    5  Death 
The  ascendant  to  the  conjunction  of  6*  14    3  — 

At  the  time  of  the  horoscope  being  calculated,  the 
skilful  artist  who  obtained  it  was  of  opinion  that  the 
fatal  arc  was  the  ascendant  to  the  6  of  6* .  But  the 
attentive  student  will  perceive  that  the  planet  £  was 
by  no  means  so  evil  as  i?,  since  he  is  in  biquintile 
to  Jupiter,  and  nearly  in  parallel  to  both  %  and  $., 
which  must  have  warded  off  his  evil  effects.  This 
nativity  sets  at  rest  the  question  of  the  efficacy  or 
wow-efficacy  of  the  semiquartile  ray.  I  have,  in  the 
course   of  my  practice,  invariably  found  that   the 


61 

senuqaartile  and  sesquiquadrate  from  the  second 
and  eighth  houses  was  of  equal,  if  not  of  superior, 
force  to  the  quartile  or  opposition.  The  student  who 
has  followed  the  erroneous  rules  of  former  authors, 
may  here  see  the  truth  of  the  hylegiacal  places 
demonstrated.  The  estimate  time  was  taken  within 
two  minutes  of  the  time  here  given.  !  leave  this 
remarkable  example  for  the  serious  consideration  of 
my  scientific  readers,  being  an  authenticated  horo- 
scope, it  merits  their  closest  attention. 


62 
ANCIENT  DIVINATION 

BY    THE 

WHEEL  OF  PYTHAGORAS; 

Which  is  said  to  resolve  all  Questions,  Past,  Present, 
and  Future. 


THE  WHEEL. 


93 


The  Ancients,  who  were  extremely  fond  of  divina- 
tion, were  wont  to  place  great  confidence  in  the 
"Wheel  of  Pythagoras/'  which  resolves  questions 
by  Arithmancy,  or  a  species  of  sortilegy  by  num- 
bers; wherein  the  result  depends  upon  the  unfettered 
agency  of  tie  mind  and  will,  or  intent  to  know  "  any 
difficult  thing." 

The  Wheel  of  Pythagoras  is  said  by  former  writers 
to  resolve  "  all  questions  the  asker  may  wish  to  be 
acquainted  with,  whether  of  the  past  time,  the  pre- 
sent time,  or  of  the  future/'  The  following  are  said 
to  be 


2. 

a. 

4. 

f 

»  • 

6. 
7. 

8. 

9. 

10. 

11. 
12. 
13. 
14. 
15. 
16. 
gpud  or  ill  ? 


The  Questions  the  Wheel  answers. 

f  a  horse  shall  win  the  race? 
f  a  prisoner  shall  come  out  of  prison  ? 
f  a  sick  person  shall  recover  or  die  ? 
f  an  absent  person  shall  return  ? 
f  the  city  besieged  shall  be  taken  ? 
Of  two  fighters,  which  shall  prevail  ? 
f  the  sickness  shall  be  long  or  short  ? 
f  a  suit  at  law  shall  be  gained  ? 
f  thy  wishes  shall  succeed? 
f  the  day  shall  be  fortunate  ? 
f  stolen  or  lost  things  shall  be  recovered 
f  it  be  good  to  buy  or  sell  ? 
f  the  asker  shall  marry  ? 
f  the  undertaking  shall  succeed  ? 
f  the  asker  is  fortunate  or  unfortunate  ? 
f  any  matter  or  thing  whatever  shall  end 


64 

Explanation  of  the  Wlteel. 

The  Wheel,  it  will  be  perceived,  is  divided  into 
four  compartments,  the  upper  half  of  which  contains 
in  order  the  numbers  which  are  termed  propitious, 
good,  and  fortunate;  the  lower  half  contains  those 
numbers  of  a  contrary  kind,  or  those  which  are 
termed  evil,  unpropitious,  and  unfortunate. 

Round  the  Wheel  are  the  letters  of  the  Alphabet, 
to  which  are  placed  certain  corresponding  numbers 
which  are  required  in  the  calculations :  (these  will 
be  explained  in  Part  2).  Besides  which,  the  num- 
bers in  the  right  half  of  the  wheel  are  said  to  denote 
"  Long  Time,"  or  that  the  question  which  has  these 
numbers  in  the  working  will  be  a  length  of  time 
about ;  and  those  in  the  left  half  of  the  wheel  are 
said  to  signify  a  short  or  brief  space  of  time  ere  the 
affair  is  accomplished.     Next  follow  the 

TABLES   USED  IN  WORKING  THE  WHEEL. 

1 .  The  Mystical  Numbers  of  each  Day  in  the  Week 


Sunday 

106 

Monday 

52 

Tuesday 

52 

Wednesday 

102 

Thursday 

31 

Friday 

68 

Saturday 

45 

2.   Tlie  Numbers  of  the  Planets  ruling  the  Days. 

Sunday  ©  34 1|  Thursday         %  78 

Monday  d  45  \]  Friday  $  45 


Tuesday  t  39 

Wednesday      5  114 


Saturday  \  i£ 


66 


3.  Tie  Numbers  to  be  chosen  by  Chance  (as  hereafter 
explained)  in  working,  the  Questions. 


I  1 

11 

33 

38 

29 

6 

3 

12 

33 

30 

15 

7 

3 

13 

34 

19 

16 

8 

• 

4 

14 

25 

20 

17 

9 

5 

27 

26 

21 

18 

10 

The  numbers  attributed  to  the  days  of  the  week, 
tod  of  the  planet  ruling  the  day,  are  of  very  ancient 
°rigin ;  and  for  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  assign 
a  reason,  or  even  account  for  in  any  way  consonant 
*ith  Astrological  Science.  They  are,  however,  as 
**H  as  the  Wheel,  a  relic  of  former  traditional  fore- 
knowledge by  lots  or  numbers ;  probably  invented, 
tite  Geomancy,  in  the  monastic  solitude  of  the 
tiddle  ages.  The  manuscript  from  whence  this  is 
compiled  appears  to  have  been  written  as  early  as 
the  fifteenth  century. — It  was  purchased  at  a  high 
price  at  the  sale  of  the  late  Mr.  Cosway's  library. 
But  Christopher  Cattan,  a  very  old  author,  whose 
*orb  are  rare  and  expensive,  makes  some  mention 
thereof;  yet  he  fails  in  describing  the  manner  of 

**fflg  the  numbers,   and   in   other   parts  of   the 

*oceu. 


66 

Artihmancy,  or  Divination  by  Numbers,  on  which 
the  Wheel  is  founded,  was  variously  practised. 
Many  stupendous  "  Tames,9'  in  the  dead  languages, 
now  obsolete  and  forgotten,  were  to  be  found, 
explaining  the  "Arte  and  Manner"  of  these  curious 
proceedings ;  in  which  the  letters  of  the  party's 
name  were  said  to  contain  many  hidden  arcana, 
when  decyphered  by  the  "  mysteries  of  numbers." 
The  ancients  went  so  far  in  these  particulars,  as  to 
declare  their  belief  that  each  individual  may  know 
the  chief  secrets  of  his  destiny  by  the  help  of  his 
name,  or  patronymical  appellation;  and  also  that 
there  exists  a  peculiar  sympathy  between  the  name 
and  the  pursuits  throughout  life.  These  facts  are 
here  stated  merely  to  apprise  the  reader  of  the  un- 
limited fondness  of  the  ancients  for  every  kind  of 
Aruspicy  or  Soothsaying,  no  matter  how  or  where  it 
was  accomplished. 

There  have  been  several  Italian  writers  of  emi- 
nence who  have  treated  of  the  power  of  numbers 
when  chosen  or  combined  by  "lot;"  amongst  whom 
stands  conspicuous  Trithemius,  the  famous  Abbot  of 
Spanheim,  whose  work,  entitled  "  Steganography/' 
is  exceedingly  mystical,  rare,  and  curious,  but  has 
never  been  translated  into  English. 

The  Italians  have  also  made  use  of  the  "  Wheel 
of  Pythagoras"  for  finding  out  fortunate  numbers  in 
the  Lottery ;  as  the  following  extract  from  the  life  of 

The  celebrated  Count  Cagliostro 
will  sufficiently  prove. 

"  'The  lottery,'  says  the  count,  'was  at  this  time 
op  the  point-  of  commencing ;  the  daily  discourses 
ot  Scot  on  this  subject  (who,  like  Vitellina,  was 
addicted  to  all  games  of  chance)   brought  to  my 


87 


a  manuscript  which  I  had  in  my  possession: 
it  contained  many  curious  cabalistical  operations  by 
surabers ;  by  the  aid  of  which,  amongst  other  secrets, 
the  author  set  forth  the  actual  possibility  of  cal- 
culating numbers  for  lotteries. 

"*I  had  ever  considered  this  as  a  vague  and 
enthusiastic  idea,  but  had  long  contracted  the  habit 
of  suspending  my  judgment  on  those  things  1  had 
not  particularly  made  the  object  of  my  speem- 
latioos.1 

"  He  was  resolved,  he  tells  us,  to  prove  the  truth 
or  falsehood  of  those  assertions ;  and,  by  adhering  to 
the  rules  prescribed  m  the  manuscript,  for  the  6th 
of  November  he  predicted  the  number  20.  'On 
this,'  says  he,  '  Scot  risked  a  trifle,  and  won ;  but 
by  number  26,  which  was  calculated  for  the  ensuing 
day,  he  gained  upwards  of  one  hundred  guineas ! 

"'The  numbers  65  and  6?  were  announced  with 
equal  success  for  the  18th  of  November ;  the  profits 
of  which  days  were  equally  divided  between  Vitel- 
line and  the  pretended  Lady  Scot 

* '  Judge  my  astonishment,'  says  the  Count,  '  at 
peroc&ving  the  exactness  of  those  calculations  I  had 
bcfieved  to  be  but  a  mere  chimera !  The  possibility 
of  such  calculations  I  must  entirely  submit  to  the 
detenaination  of  the  reader;  but  was  this  un- 
common success  the  effect  of  human  skill  or  of 
entire  chance  V 

"The  Count,  from  a  point  of  delicacy,  thought 
proper  to  resist5  the  repeated  solicitations  of  Scot, 
&c.,  by  resolutely  refusing  to  predict  other  numbers. 
Scot  exerted  every  effort  to  strengthen  his  intent 
with  the  Count.  He  presented  Madame  Cagliostro 
with  the  trimming  of  a  cloak  worth  four  or  five 


68 

guineas;  in  return  for  which,  as  he  would  not 
mortify  him  by  a  refusal,  the  Count  presented  him, 
on  the  same  day,  with  a  gold  box,  value  twenty-five 
guineas ;  and,  to  free  himself  from  further  impor- 
tunity, ordered  his  servant  to  deny  him  both  to 
Scot  and  Miss  Fry,  which  was  the  real  name  of  the 
pretended  lady. 

"  The  latter,  however,  in  a  few  days  gained  ad- 
mission to  Lady  Cagliostro.  She  informed  her  in 
broken  accents,  accompanied  with  tears,  that  she 
was  for  ever  ruined ;  Scot,  she  said,  to  whom  she 
had  the  weakness  to  be  attached,  having  decamped 
with  the  profits  arising  from  the  lottery,  leaving  her 
with  his  three  children  entirely  destitute.  This 
imaginary  tale  produced  the  intended  result  Ma- 
dame Cagliostro,  touched  with  the  pretended  misery 
of  her  situation,  generously  interceded  with  the 
Count  in  her  behalf,  who,  at  her  request,  sent  her  a 
guinea,  and,  for  the  ensuing  day,  the  chance  of 
number  8. 

"  Flushed  with  her  former  success,  she  now  believed 
the  calculations  of  her  benefactor  infallible ;  and, 
having  procured  cash  upon  her  effects,  she  boldly 
risked  a  considerable  sum  on  the  above  number. 
Fate  was  again  propitious !  On  the  7th  of  Decem- 
ber, the  number  eight  emerged  from  the  wheel  of 
fortune ! 

"  This  extraordinary  chance,  on  which  the  Count 
did  not  risk  a  single  guinea,  returned  to  Scot  and 
Miss  Fry  (whose  quarrel  was  fabulous)  the  full 
sum  of  one  thousand  five  hundred  guineas !" 

Caglwstros  Life,  p.  22. 


MISCELLANIES, 

AMUSING    AND    SELECT. 


L  SIMPLE  AND  PLEASING  WAT  TO  HAKE  A  PORTA- 
BLE SUN-DIAL  OF  A  CARD. 


The  Hoes  a  d,a  b,  and  b  c,  of  the  gnomon  (or  pin 
of  the  dial),  must  be  cut  quite  through  the  card ; 
and,  as  the  end  of  a  b  or  the  gnomon  is  raised  occa- 
sionally above  the  plane  of  the  dial,  it  turns  upon 
the  uncut  line  c  d  as  on  a  hinge.  The  dotted  line 
a  b  must  penetrate  through  the  card,  and  the  thread 


70 

c  must  pass  through  that  line,  and  have  a  knot  tied 
behind,  to  preserve  it  from  being-  easily  drawn  out. 
Upon  the  other  end  of  this  thread  is  a  small 
plummet  d,  and  in  the  middle  of  it,  a  small  bead 
for  pointing  out  the  hour  of  the  day. 

To  rectify  this  dial,  set  the  thread  in  the  slit,  right 
against  the  day  of  the  month,  and  stretch  the  thread 
from  the  day  of  the  month  over  the  angular  point, 
where  the  curve  lines  meet  at  xn  ;  then  shift  the 
bead  to  that  point  on  the  thread,  and  the  dial  will  be 
correct. 

To  find  the  hour  of  the  day,  raise  the  gnomon  (no 
matter  how  much  or  little),  and  hold  the  edge  of 
the  dial  next  the  gnomon  towards  the  sun,  so  as  the 
uppermost  edge  of  the  gnomon  may  just  cover  the 
shadow  line;  and  the  bead  then  playing  freely  on  the 
face  of  the  dial,  by  the  weight  of  the  plummet,  will 
show  the  time  of  the  day  amongst  the  hour  lines, 
as  it  may  be  forenoon  or  afternoon. 

To  find  the  time  of  sun-rising  and  setting,  move  the 
thread  among  the  hour  lines,  until  it  either  covers 
some  one  of  them,  or  lies  parallel  between  any 
two ;  and  then  it  will  cut  the  time  of  sun-rising 
among  the  forenoon  hours,  or  of  sun-setting  among 
the  afternoon  hours,  for  that  day  of  the  year  to 
which  the  thread  is  set  in  the  scale  of  months. 

To  find  the  suns  declination,  stretch  the  thread 
from  the  day  of  the  month  over  the  angular  point  at 
xn,  and  it  will  cut  the  sun's  declination,  as  it  is 
north  or  south  for  that  day,  the  arched  scale  of  north 
and  south  declination. 

To  find  on  what  day  the  sun  enters  the  signs;  when 
the  bead,  as  above  rectified,  moves  along  any  of  the 
curved  lines  which  have  the  signs  of  the  zodiac 


71 

marked  cm  them,  the  sun  enters  those  signg  on  the 
days  pointed  out  by  the  thread  in  the  scale  of 
months. 

TO    MAKE  A   ROOM    APPEAR    IN    FLAMES* 

A  marvellous  Illusion  of  the  Fancy. 

Take  half  an  ounce  of  sal-ammoniac,  one  ounce 
of  camphor,  and  two  ounces  of  aqua-vitae  (or  recti- 
fied spirits  of  wine),  put  them  into  an  earthen  pot, 
narrowing  towards  the  top,  and  set  fire  to  it. 

The  effect  will  be  immediate,  and  so  alarming, 
that  the  persons  in  the  room  will  even  fancy  their 
own  garments  are  on  fire ;  but  the  illusory  flames 
will  nevertheless  do  no  harm.  This  was  in  former 
times  accounted  a  rare  secret. 


THE  FAMOUS  ALKAHEST, 

OB, 
UNIVERSAL  DISSOLVENT  OP  THE  ANCIENTS. 

According  to  Paracelsus  and  Van  Helmont,  there 
is  a  certain  fluid  in  nature  capable  of  reducing  all 
sublunary  bodies,  or  dissolving  them  into  their 
original  matter ;  or  into  an  uniform  portable  liquor 
that  will  unite  with  water,  and  the  juices  of  our 
bodies. 

Van  Helmont,  declaring  that  he  himself  possessed 
the  secret,  excited  succeeding  chemists  and  alche- 
mists to  the  pursuit  of  so  wonderful  a  menstruum ; 
uid  Mr.  Boyle,  the  celebrated  chemist,  is  said  to 
Ave  declared,  that  "he  had  rather  have  been 
ouster  of  it  than  of  the  philosopher's  stone. 


i 


72 

The  different  conjectures  of  chemists,  with  regard 
to  the  matter  of  the  alkahest,  are  innumerable  ;  some 
expected  to  obtain  it  from  sea-salt  and  mercury; 
others  wrought  on  equinoctial  dew ;  others  on  rain- 
water ;  others  on  talc,  on  zinc,  on  antimony,  &c. 

Kunkel,  in  ridicule  of  the  universal  dissolvent, 
asks,  "  If  the  alkahest  dissolves  all  substances,  in 
what  vessel  can  it  be  contained  ?"  But  this  question 
maybe  partially  set  aside,  when  it  is  considered  that 
the  menstruum  might  be  weakened  so  as  to  be  occa- 
sionally kept  in  that  vessel  which  has  the  greatest 
power  to  resist  its  effects,  or  it  might  be  contained 
in  a  continuous  number  of  vessels,  as  it  is  not  to  be 
supposed  that  the  effect  would  be  instantaneous. 
And  the  fact  of  so  great  a  man  as  Boyle  giving  cre- 
dence to  the  possibility  of  such  a  mixture,  certainly 
goes  far  to  free  those  persons  from  the  charge  of  cre- 
dulity, who  are  believers  therein  at  the  present  day ; 
of  which  there  are  many ;  and  they,  also,  men  of 
science  and  genius ! 


TALISMANS. 

The  extraordinary  interest  which  has  been  excited 
by  the  author  of  Waverley's  celebrated  romance  of 
"  The  Talisman,"  has,  it  appears,  created  a  pretty 
general  desire  for  becoming  acquainted  with  those 
mysterious  agents  (as  they  are  said  to  be)  in  the 
laboratory  of  nature.  And  hence  also,  the  author 
of  this  book  has  toiled  amidst  many  a  dusky  and 
worm-eaten  memorial  of  former  times,  in  order  to 
give  an  accurate  description  of  the  most  esteemed 


73 

Talismans,  which  those  ancient  manuscripts  treat  of. 
Is  addition  to  which,  he  has  chosen  such  as  appear 
to  be  facile  in  construction ;  and  by  the  ease  witb 
which  the  reader  can  thus  make  them,  it  will  be  soon 
manifest  whether  their  powers  are  real  or  imaginary. 

Khe  fimptrfal  Calisman  of  Cmustuitine, 

Which  is  said  to  give  Victory  over  Enemies. 


This  Talisman  must  be  engraved  on  pure  iron. 
The  metal  must  be  moulded  into  the  above  form  on 
the  day  of  Mars  (which  is  Tuesday),  and  in  his  hour 
(which  is  the  first  and  eighth  hour  of  that  day), 
while  the  moon  is  in  sextile,  or  trine  to  Mars,  which 
every  astrologer  knows,  and  which  the  ephemeris 
will  teach.  It  must  be  engraven  at  the  same  time, 
or  under  similar  aspects,  and  in  the  increase  of  the 
moon. 

Vhen  completed  (the  utmost  care  being  taken  that 
"t  is  began  and  ended  under  the  required  aspects), 
the  person  for  whom  it  is  made  must  retire  to  some 
secret  place,  and  fumigating  it  with  the  magical 
ttfbinigation  of  the  spirits  of  Hars,  which  consist! 


7; 

of  red  saunders.  frankincense,  and  pepper,  must 
proceed  to  suspend  it  from  some  part  of  the  body, 
where  it  will  be  kept  clean  and  secret ;  or  it  may  be 
worn  on  the  finger  as  a  ring,  the  characters  being 
engraven  inside  (the  size  of  the  Talisman  being  of  no 
consequence)  next  to  the  finger. 

This  is  said  to  be  the  identical  sign  which  the 
Emperor  Constantine  saw  in  the  heavens,  previous 
to  his  embracing  Christianity.  And  it  is  also  said 
to  "  give  victory  over  every  earthly  enemy,  being 
rightly  formed." — MSS.  Key  to  Agrippa. 

The  writings  of  the  ancients  are  filled  with  the 
various  effects  and  descriptions  of  Talismans,  many 
of  which  were  formed  of  the  most  costly  materials; 
as  of  "gold,  silver,  and  rubies."  The  following, 
worn  in  a  ring,  is  said  to  prove  of  great  and  sur- 
prising efficacy  in  the  way  of  acquiring  powerful 
friends,  and  overcoming  the  evils  of  life :  it  is  termed 
by  an  old  manuscript 

"THE  RING  OF  STRENGTH." 

€f  Let  a  ring  be  formed  of  virgin  gold;  on  the  day 
of  the  sun,  and  in  the  hour  of  Jupiter,  in  the  moon's 
increase,  wherein  thou  shalt  place  seven  precious 
stones — the  Diamond,  the  Ruby,  the  Emerald, 
the  Jacyxth,  the  Sapphire,  the  Beryl,  and  the 
Topaz.  Wear  it  about  thee,  and  fear  no  man;  ibr 
thou  wilt  be  invincible  as  Achilles."— MSS  of 
Phitadeiwus. 


TALISMAN   OF  ST.   BARNABAS. 


A    LEGEND    OP    CHEAPSIDE. 


*! 

Hw 

pujf  f 

ffijPBJi 

S^Sss 

m  J 

IrJH 

-'*  u'JHI 

^^^^■■^^^^■"^     _ , 

«mJL^^^-^ 

•2^  w^saJ 

The  very  ancient  custom  of  commercial  society 
which  induced  those  persons  who  exercised  the 
same  profession  or  occupation  to  reside  together, 
was  also  the  origin  of  such  places  being  erected, 
beautified,  or  named,  by  those  liberal  individuals 
who  wished  to  raise  their  professions  in  dignity  and 
Importance.  Many  instances  of  this  practice  might 
be  mentioned,  but  the  present  narrative  requires  us 


76 

only  to  refer  to  that  part  of  Cheapside  anciently 
standing  opposite  the  end  of  Wood-street,  and  then 
called  Goldsmiths'-row.  It  consisted  of  a]  series  of 
wooden  houses  and  shops,  having  their  carved  gables 
turned  to  the  street,  and  erected,  according  to  the 
antique  custom  of  London,  in  one  frame  of  four 
stories  in  height*  each  of  which  projected  over  that 
beneath.  Below  these  buildings  were  fourteen  small 
and  rather  dark  shops,  the  deep  unglazed  windows 
of  which  were  covered  with  a  heavy  tiled  pent- 
house, having  a  rich  display  of  gold  and  silver  ves- 
sels in  the  interior ;  to  guard  which,  as  well  as  to 
solicit  custom,  the  master  or  some  of  his  servants 
continually  stood  before  the  door. 

The  fronts  of  these  erections  were  adorned  with 
their  respective  signs  and  several  sculptures  in  wood, 
whilst  in  the  centre  edifice  was  a  large  ornamental 
tablet  cast  in  lead,  and  richly  painted  and  gilt, 
intended  at  once  to  commemorate  the  title  of  the 
row  itself,  and  of  its  generous  founder;  since  it 
represented  the  Goldsmiths'  Arms,  with  figures  of 
woodmen  riding  on  monstrous  beasts,  expressive  of 
the  name  of  Thomas  Wood,  goldsmith -and  sheriff, 
who  not  only  built  these  shops  and  houses  in  149!, 
but  endowed  them  with  certain  sums  of  money>  to 
be  lent  to  such  young  citizens  as  should  first  inhabit 
them. 

To  this  pile  of  building,  then — which  was  consi- 
dered the  glory  of  Cheapside,  of  London,  and  of 
England — there  removed  an  old  and  rather  a  humor- 
ous personage,  a  bachelor,  named  Ignatius  Touch- 
stone, who  resided  in  the  principal  tenement,  known 
by  the  sign  of  the  Chalice  and  Unicorn,  being  ap- 
pointed a  sort  of  governor  over  the  junior  member* 


77 

of  Master  Wood's  foundation.     And,  indeed,  the 
ancient  goldsmith  was  excellently  adapted  for  such 
an  appointment,   since  his   professional  skill  was 
known  and  esteemed  wherever  a  ship  had,  at  this, 
period,  found  a  passage.     His  damasquined  west* 
pons  were  coveted,  his  plate  and  jewellery  were 
equally  admired  in  court  and  castle,  and  his  chapel 
furniture   was  so   highly  valued,  that  pontiff  and 
priest  were  alike  desirous  of  possessing  his  crosiers, 
patinas,   shrines,   lamps,   and   flagons.     Whilst   he 
was  thus  the  very  prototype  of  the  mad  Florentine, 
Benvenuto  Cellihi,  in  skill,  he  also  possessed  a  very 
large  portion  of  his  fiery  temper ;  though,  when  he 
came  to  blows,  he  had  recourse  to  a  long  and  stout 
oaken  walking-staff,  choicely  carved  by  the  famous 
Albrecht  Diirer,  and  mounted  in  gold  with  his  own 
hand,  instead  of  the  more  destructive  weapons  of  the 
Italian.    With  this  instrument,  which  he  humorously 
called  "  the  book  of  good  manners,"  he  commonly 
made  a  considerable  impression  in  every  dispute,  and 
was  particularly  successful  in  using  it  to  convince 
his  wild  kinsman  and  apprentice,  Pierce  Malefant* 
of  idleness  and  lewd  revelry ;  his  lessons  and  disci- 
pline on  which  commonly  began  at  rather  an  early 
hour  in  the  morning.     It  was  also  not  unfrequently 
with  him  to  open  this  said  volume,  and  to  pursue  his 
scholar  through  the  streets  with  it,  whenever  he  found 
him  loitering  at  a  pageant,  a  tavern,  or  a  procession, 
through  Cheapside.     For,  to  speak  truth,  it  should 
he  observed,  that  Master  Pierce  very  much  resem- 
bled the  idle  apprentice  in  Chaucer's  exquisite  frag- 
ment of  "  The  Coke's  Tale;"  for  which  reason,  the 
wholesome  abuse,  and  even  the  oaken  arguments,  of 
the  ancient  goldsmith  were  by  no  means  uncalled  for. 


78 

As  this  character,  too,  was  tolerably  well  known 
to  the  neighbours,  it  was  seldom  thought  wonderful 
to  see  them  both  racing  through  the  street  of  West- 
cheap;    the  one  laying  about  him  with  a  host  of 
hard  words,  and  yet  harder  blows,  and  the  other 
flying  along,  half  in  mockery  and  half  in  fear.    In 
due  time,  however,  notwithstanding  Master  Touch- 
stoned  rigid  government,  his  pupil  became  indif- 
ferently good  at  his  art.     He  possessed  both  a  fair 
face  and  a  bold  presence,  being  always  out  first 
when  the  other  apprentices  began  to  cry  "  Clubs !" 
He  had  a  good  voice  in  a  stave,  and  a  light  foot  in  a 
galliard ;  though  he  was  chiefly  known  for  an  auda- 
cious spirit,  that  seemed  formed  either  for  making  a 
fortune  or  stretching  a  halter,  and  so  unbounded  an 
ambition,  that,  provided  he  arrived  at  wealth  and 
power,  he  cared  not  greatly  whether  the  road  lay 
nearest  to  virtue  or  to  villainy.     And,  indeed,  the 
aspect  of  the  times  was  such,  that  any  bold  or  enter- 
prising  spirit   might   expect   to   prosper   in  them. 
There  were  many  alarming  symptoms  of  discontent 
in  England  :  an  insecure  peace  was  existing  with 
France,  and  the  party  of  Perkin  Warbeck,  the  ficti- 
tious Duke  of  York,  continued  to  rapidly  increase. 
King  Henry  VII.  had  prohibited  all  intercourse  with 
Flanders,  and  the  importation  of  all  Flemish  wares. 
The  English  merchants  had,  therefore,  no  other  mart 
than  Calais  for  the  sale  of  their  goods,  which  greatly 
decreased  their  credit ;  while  the  Flemish  merchants 
who  were  settled  and  protected  in  England  carried 
on  a  trade  with  their  own  countries,  and  from  their 
warehouses   at   the   Still-yard,  on  the  river  bank, 
continued  to  supply  all  who  had  hitherto  been  fur- 
nished   with    goods    by   the   citizens   of    London. 


79 

Their  success  naturally  produced  the  strongest  feel- 
ings of  envy  and  dislike  in  the  civic  traders,  until, 
at  length,  their  smouldered  hatred  broke  forth  in  the 
most  furious  acts  of  open  revenge.  Such  was  then 
the  state  of  London  at  the  period  our  narrative  com-* 
mences,  which,  to  fix  it  precisely,  is  about  six 
o'clock  in  the  morning  of  Monday,  October  the 
7th,  in  the  year  of  human  Redemption  1493,  and 
the  9th  of  the  reign  of  King  Henry  VII. 

The  public  fountain  in  C  heaps  id  e  was  at  this  time 
a  place  of  universal  intercourse  for  the  apprentices 
of  London,  at  which  meetings  were  appointed,  dis- 
ports planned,  their  rights  and  privileges  debated, 
and  measures  of  offence  and  defence  concerted.  It 
was  known  by  the  name  of  the  Lesser  Conduit, 
consisting  of  a  short  square  turret,  with  four  basins 
and  an  embattled  top,  built  of  stone,  and  lined  with 
lead.  It  was  at  this^time  surmounted  by  a  fair 
gothic  cupola  and  vane;  for  it  had  been  erected 
only  about  sixty  years,  and  repaired  still  more 
recently  by  licence  from  Henry  IV.  It  was  filled 
from  the  Great  Conduit  at  Bucklersbury,  with  a 
stream  brought  from  Paddington.  As  pipes,  how- 
ever, for  the  supply  of  private  houses,  were  not  then 
invented,  the  water  was  conveyed  to  them  in  large 
wooden  tankards,  hooped  with  iron,  and  having 
massy  handles,  chains,  and  moveable  covers ;  and 
in  some  ancient  views  of  Cornhill  and  Cheapside, 
the  conduits  are  represented  with  a  host  of  these 
vessels  standing  about  them. 

At  the  time  of  this  narrative,  most  citizens  were 
served  by  their  own  apprentices,  especially  those 
whose  houses  stood  so  immediately  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  conduits  as  did  Master  Ignatius  Touchstone's  in 


80 

the  Goldsmiths'-row.  It  was  this  day  with  no  good 
wiU  that  Master  Pierce  Malefant  took  up  his  heavy 
tankard  and  went  him  forth  to  the  Little  Conduit  in 
Cheap,  which  was  constructed  in  the  Standard,  at 
the  end  of  Honey-lane,  or  about  opposite  to  the 
north  door  of  the  present  Bow  Church.  As  he 
hastily  advanced,  his  associates  received  him  with 
a  clamorous  resolution,  some  greeting,  some  jesting, 
but  most  with  laughter,  and  all  with  good  humour; 
till  his  own  ill-humour  was  partly  assuaged  by  the 
intelligence  he  received  of  a  conspiracy  among  his 
brother  apprentices,  the  ostensible  purpose  of  which 
was  a  plot  to  burn  the  warehouses  of  the  Flemish 
merchants,  and  destroy  their  goods,  in  revenge  for 
the  loss  of  credit  sustained  by  their  c;vic  anta- 
gonists. 

"Now,  Pierce  Malefant,"  began  Dominic,  as  soon 
as  they  were  clear  of  the  crowd,  at  the  same  time 
drawing  him  under  a  dark  pent-house  by  Bow 
Church,  and  speaking  in  a  low  tone,  ecdo  not  I 
utter  your  thoughts,  when  I  state  that  you  desire  to 
avenge  yourself  upon  him  whom  you  serve  V9 

"What  fiend  told  you  that?"  exclaimed  Pierce, 
starting  back ;  "  and  yet,  to  say  the  truth,  I •" 

"Aye,  aye,"  interrupted  he,  "I  knew  it  well! 
His  morning  curses  and  his  daily  blows  could  not 
but  fire  such  a  free  young  spirit  as  thine.  Now, 
mark  what  I  am  about  to  tell  thee.  Some  seven 
nights  past,  I  went,  about  eight  of  the  clock,  to 
carry  a  fair  parchment  missal,  and  a  rosary  of  san- 
dal wood,  to  Master  Lumpfish,  in  the  Bridge-street; 
and  as  I  returned  by  the  Still -yard,  I  saw  two  men 
come  out,  one  of  whom  I  knew  to  be  an  Almaine, 
named  Cornelius  Zaubergoldt;    a    man  shrewdly 


81 

suspected  pf  u$*ng  magical  and  ungodly  arts.  He 
gave  the  other  a  brass  box,  bidding  him  guard  it  as 
his  life,  since  it  contained  that  which  would  make 
or  mar  them  for  ever ;  above  all,  he  was  to  keep  the 
casket  shut,  as  the  thing  within  it  was  a  fiend, 
which  he  had  with  much  l&bour  confined  there,  and 
would  prove  one  of  the  foulest  spirits  of  the  deep, 
should  it  once  get  loosened.  They  spake  all  this  in 
a  very  joyful  manner;  apd  when  Cornelius  had 
gone  in  again,  I  traced  the  stranger  to  your  dwell- 
ing; I  saw  him  enter  with  the  fiendish  box,  and  wot 
it  could  be  no  other  than  Master  Touchstone  him- 
self!" 

"What  wouldst  thou  do,  then,  good  scribe  of  the 
Westcheap?"  asked  Pierce.  "Wouldst  have  me 
break  open  the  casket,  and  let  the  devil  loose 
upon  us  V9 

"I  do  not  ask  thee  to  loose  the  demon,"  answered 
Dominic  ;  "  but  methinks  that  a  true  son  of  the  Holy 
Church  should  ever  help  to  resist  the  Devil :  I  pro- 
mise you  that  his  Grace  of  Canterbury  well  guer- 
dons those  who  do,  and  sorely  disciplines  thpse  who 
do  not,  A  vise  yourself  of  it,  then,  and  peer  about 
closely  for  more  charges ; ,  for  with  this  act  of  witch- 
craft brought  home  to  the  Flemings,  and  our  own 
force  to  boot,  down  they  go,  an*  they  were  an  hun- 
dred fold  stronger  than  they  be." 

"  Well,  well,"  replied  the  yielding  Pierce,  €S  thou 
hast  wrought  strange  feelings  within  me: — where 
shall  we  two  meet  at  night,  to  confer  more  of  this 
matter  alone  ?" 

"Nowhere  better  than  on  this  very  spot,"  was 
the  answer,  "  an  hour  after  Bow-bell  has  rung  for 


82 

curfew;    but  thou  wilt  come  to  us  at  the  Roya 
Rose  ?" 

"I  may  not  promise  that,"  rejoined  Malefant, 
"  but  do  thou  say  for  me  that  I  will  not  fail  to  rise 
and  join  them  with  the  first  outcry."  The  two 
worthies  then  separated;  Dominic  taking  a  cir- 
cuitous road  to  his  own  dwelling,  whilst  Master 
Pierce,  bearing  the  tankard  on  his  shoulder,  returned 
to  the  abode  of  Master  Touchstone. 

As  the  night  had  proved  more  damp  and  gloomy 
than  is  usual  for  so  early  an  October  evening,  Mas- 
ter Touchstone  took  his  departure  to  his  club,  which, 
to  complete  the  strange  features  of  these  times,  was 
held  under  the  authority  of  Absolon  Chine  (a  whim- 
sical character,  formerly  well  known  throughout 
Westcheap  for  his  quaint  humour,  and  his  office  as 
sexton  of  St.  Mary-le-Bow)  in  the  belfry  of  the 
Church ;  where  the  eldest,  and  the  merriest,  and  the 
most  singular  of  the  elders,  would  meet  on  winter's 
evenings,  to  laugh,  quaff,  and  sing,  or  play  away 
the  hours,  until  nine  o'clock  gave  notice  that  the 
guardian  of  Bow-bell  should  toll  the  curfew.  On 
Master  Touchstone's  departure,  his  apprentice  re- 
mained alone ;  with  the  less  regret,  on  account  of 
being  employed  in  planishing  a  silver  charger  for 
the  ensuing  Lord  Mayor's  day,  until  Absolon's 
curfew  should  release  him  from  labour.  The  figures 
with  which  it  was  decorated  were  allegroricallv 
intended  to  represent  that  Industry  and  Skill  are 
the  discoverers  of  concealed  treasures ;  and  as 
he  burnished  the  emblems  of  wealth,  he  could 
not  avoid  reflecting  upon  his  own  ambitious  visions, 
and    execrating    the    fate   which   confined   him   to 


83 

manual  laboir,  and  the  caprices  of  a  humorous 
master. 

"I  would  to  St.  Mildred!"  said  Pierce,  half 
aloud ;  "  I  would  to  St.  Mildred,  now,  that  any  of 
the  gold  which  men  say  is  in  the  earth  were  to 
fall  to  my  share ;  and,  by  the  bones !  I'd  never 
question  whence  it  came,  or  who  placed  it  there ; 
for  full  sure  am  I  that  there  be  shorter  roads  to 
riches  than  this  toiling  at  furnace  and  hammer. 
The  sprite  in  yonder  casket  might  perchance  tell 
some  tidings  of  this ;  and  I  know  not  what  lets  me 
now  from  asking  it  myself.  But  what  if  the  fiend 
prove  too  stark  for  me  when  his  prison  is  open, 
and  fly  away  with  the  Goldsmiths'-row  ?  Massl 
that  were  a  foul  thing  truly!  and  small  ruth 
would  be  shown  to  me,  for  I  should  carry  a 
faggot  to  Powle's,  as  sure  as  the  holy  thorn 
blossoms  at  Christmas." 

How  strong  his  fear  or  his  good  resolutions  might 
have  proved,  it  is  impossible  to  guess ;  for  at  that 
moment  all  his  reveries  were  put  to  flight  by  a 
gentle  knocking  at  the  house  door ;  and  Pierce,  sup- 
posing that  it  might  be  some  of  his  fellows,  went 
thither  with  more  haste  than  usual.  Upon  opening 
the  portal  he  saw  a  figure  wrapped  in  a  mantle,  who 
presently  discovered  to  him  the  features  of  Cornelius 
Zaubergoldt,  and  demanded  the  immediate  attend- 
ance of  Master  Touchstone. 

" Please  you  to  sit  awhile,"  said  Pierce,  "and 
perchance  he  may  return  soon  after  the  curfew ;  but 
at  present  he  is  gone  forth !" 

"Sit  awhile!"  exclaimed  the  German,  hastily; 
"soul  of  Alcabitius !  why  goes  he  forth,  when  every 
moment  may  call  him  to  the  great  work?     Tis 


84 

§hrewd  ill  luck  for  him ;  but  1  perceive  that  the 
planets  have  rejected  him  from  their  mysteries  " 

"  Beseech  you,"  said  Pierce,  "  take  it  not  so 
foully;  he  may  not  tarry  long;  but  an'  I  might 
be " 

"And,"  interrupted  the  alchemist,  "are  the  high 
mysteries  for  which  I  have  toiled  so  long  to  await 
his  tardy  return?  No,  verily  !  he  is  cut  off  as  un- 
worthy of  partaking  in  them ;  but  I  must  seize  the 
true  moment  of  working,  according  to  the  tables 
Which  Isaac  Aben  Seyd  and  the  Eastern  astrono- 
mers wrought  for  Prince  Alphonso  the  Wise.  And 
tell  me,  youth,  knowest  thou  aught  of  thy  craft?" 

"Why,"  returned  Pierce,  4i  I  can  do  somewhat, 
though  there  be  many  others  more  couthful;  and 
yet  I  can  grave,  cliase,  and  cast,  with  any  'prentice 
in  Westcheap  of  no  longer  standing." 

"  Enough,"  answered  Cornelius,  "I  will  use  thy 
skill ;  therefore  fetch  me  hither  that  brazen  casket 

* 

which  standeth  in  the  upper  chamber,  and  bring  it 
to  the  laboratory,  for  as  yet  I  have  no  power  to 
touch  it:  1  will  in  the  mean  time  prepare  a  crucible 
to  receive  the  spirit  that  lies  within  it.  Depart  at 
once  for  the  box,  or  lament  in  vain  through  the 
rest  of  thy  miserable  life :  I  foresee  that  the  crisis 
of  thy  fate  is  at  hand,  and  there  is  but  one  moment 
for  us  to  work  in.  Thus  it  is  that  man,  vain  man, 
looking  to  a  length  of  years,  delays  from  day  to 
day  to  begin  his  greatest  labours:  the  happy  season 
passes,  and  he  is  lost.  Work  then  now,  or  vainly 
repent  for  ever!" 

He  spake ;  and  Pierce  hastened  out  of  the  apart- 
ment. Upon  returning  to  the  laboratory,  he  found 
Cornelius  carefully  preparing  a  crucible,  which,  by 


85 

me  secret  means,  he  had  brought  to  such  a  high 
degree  of  heat  as  almost  instantly  to  fuse  either 
gold  or  silver.  The  clear  blue  eyes  and  pale  com* 
plexion  of  the  German  looked  nearly  unearthly  in 
the  blaze  of  the  furnace;  and  their  solemn  effect 
was  farther  increased  by  his  dress,  since  he  had 
entirely  thrown  aside  his  mantle,  and  appeared  in  a 
rich  Eastern  habit,  having  on  his  breast  a  large  silver 
cross,  embroidered  with  such  art  that  the  metal  was 
nearly  as  vivid  as  if  it  had  been  wrought  in  rays  of 
light! 

Having  ordered  Pierce  to  secure  the  door,  be 
directed  him  to  open  the  casket,  which  contained  a 
mould  for  casting  a  small  image  of  St.  Barnabas, 
and  several  fragments  of  ancient  gold.  These  the 
alchemist  flung  into  the  crucible ;  and  then,  turning 
to  Pierce,  said,  ' '  Well,  what  think'st  thou  now  ?  Is 
there  aught  unholy  in  our  labours  ?" 

"  No,  by  my  hoi i dame !"  answered  the  appren- 
tice; "but  I  would  fain  learn  what  all  this  sig- 
nifieth." 

M Listen  then,"  replied  Cornelius;  "and  so  much 
as  I  may  disclose  to  thee  I  will,  the  rather  that 
thine  art  may  be  the  more  availing.  It  is  now  some 
three  years  since,  when  I  sojourned  in  the  fair  city 
of  Milan,  one  summer  midnight,  as  I  read  late  in 
the  divine  books  of  Ptolemy  and  the  Rabbi  Jehuda 
el  Coneso,  a  man  clothed  in  this  habit  stood  sud- 
denly before  me  !  His  visage  was  that  of  one  who 
had  been  long  at  rest  in  the  sepulchre ;  his  hair  and 
fobcs  were  dropping  with  the  night  dews  ;  and  this 
cross,  which  I  have  faintly  purfled  in  silver,  shone 
upon  his  breast  in  rays  of  living  light.  With  fear 
and  trembling  I    prostrated    myself    before    him, 


«6 

deeming  that  1  saw  the  vision  of  some  ancient  saint ; 
and  demanded  of  him  what  he  would  have  with  his 
servant.  In  brief,  he  told  me  in  mine  own  tongue, 
that  he  was  Christianus  Crux,*  the  great  master  of 
all  alchemic  mysteries  ;  that  the  cross  on  his  breast 
was  the  mystic  sign  of  his  own  name,  and  of  that 
light  which  is  the  menstruum  of  gold  ;  and  that  the 
dew  falling  from  him  expressed  the  -all-creating  and 
all-dissolving  spirit  of  nature.  'And  now,  Cor- 
nelius/ said  he,  '  if  thou  wilt  listen  to  my  words, 
thou  shalt  have  a  larger  guerdon  than  the  richest 
king  ever  yet  bestowed.  Thou  knowest  that  the 
first  Christian  Church  in  Milan  was  planted  by 
holy  Barnabas,  the  fellow  Apostle  of  Paul,  and  men 
still  show  the  place  where  he  preached,  without  the 
South  gate  of  the  city.  Deeply  buried  in  that 
place  lies  a  casket,  with  certain  reliques  of  mystic 
gold,  once  part  of  an  image  adored  in  this  city,  but 
wondrously  thrown  down  and  broken,  what  time  the 
true  faith  was  brought  hither.  Howbeit,  in  that 
gold  dwells  the  sympathetic  power  of  finding  out  all 
other  hidden  treasures;  if  it  be  first  skilfully  wrought 
into  the  form  of  the  holy  Apostle,  under  the  same 
configurations  as  those  which  reigned  at  its  de- 
struction, which  must  be  graven  upon  its  base. 

'  Wherefore,  on  the  coming  feast  of  St.  Barnabas, 
when  the  sun  is  so  high  and  bright  in  the  Twins  that 

*  It  lias  been  erroneously  supposed  that  the  sect  of  tlic  Romrru- 
cians  implied  the  brotherhood  of  the  Ro*y  Cross  ;  wher-j  their 
title  was  really  derived  from  the  words  Res,  or  dew,  the  tnoxt 
powerful  dissolvent  of  gold,  and  Crux,  their  founder's  name,  which 
signifies  a  cross,  the  chemical  character  for  light.  This  association 
was  expressed  by  the  letters  F.  R.  ('.,  meaning,  Fralres  Hosts 
Cocti,  or.  Brethren  of  the  Concocted  Dew. 


*7 

even  midnight  quenches  not  his  fire,  and  the  year  is 
at  its  perfect  manhood,  go  to  that  sacred  spot,  and 
take  up  the  gold  again,  when  the  hour  is  neither  Oi 
night  nor  of  morning,  and  the  heavens  are  lighted 
both  by  sun  and  stars.'  He  said,  and  passed  away 
from  me  as  in  a  cloud ;  howbeit,  I  fulfilled  his  be- 
hests, and  the  gold  is  now  before  thee.  With  much 
labour,  and  by  the  aid  of  those  wondrous  Tables 
which  the  Rabbi  Isaac  Aben  Seyd  framed  for  King 
Alonzo  of  Leon,  I  have  been  enabled  to  calculate 
the  exact  times  for  fashioning  the  figure.  And  now, 
the  mould  thereof  is  formed,  the  gold  is  melted, 
and  the  Talismanic  Image  wants  but  casting  and 
inscribing  with  the  planetary  influences,  to  be 
perfect.'* 

**  Wherein," said  Pierce,  "I  shall  soon  speed  you. 
By  St.  Mary  of  Bow!  ye  have  told  me  a  strange  tale ; 
aud  me  thinks  that  the  tire  burns  more  fiercely  than 
ever  I  marked  it ;  and  here,  too,  are  wondrous  fair 
colours,  leaping,  as  it  were,  about  the  melting  pot/' 
**  A  sure  token,  my  son,"  said  Cornelius,  "  that 
oar  labours  have  arrived  at  a  happy  perfection  ;  but 
the  gold  is  now  molten,  so  cast  me  the  figure  in  the 
name  of  the  holy  St.  Barnabas." 

As  soon  as  the  metal  had  been  safely  poured  into 

the  mould,  and  was  carefully  set  to  cool,  Cornelius 

departed  ;  first,  however,  drawing  from  his  pouch  a 

piece  of  vellum   inscribed    with    certain   Hebrew 

names  and  astronomical  signs,  written  around  two 

circles  and  a  cross.    This  he  gave  to  Pierce,  and 

said,  "  The  night  is  waning,  and  I  must  go  hence : 

let  not  the  sacred  effigy  be  taken  from  its  matrix 

until  I  return  hither;  but  at  fitting  season,  when 

no  eye  can  mark  thy  labours,  let  these  characters 


88 

be  graven  upon  the  base  of  it.  Above  all,  say 
nought  of  these  things  unto  thy  master ;  but  b$ 
faithful,  be  silent,  and  thy  guerdon  shall  be  alike- 
great  and  certain." 

When  the  German  had  quitted  the  laboratory, 
Pierce  began  to  reflect  upon  the  strange  events  of 
the  last  hour  ;  and  gazing  on  the  cooling  image,  he 
uttered  his  considerations  in  these  words:— "  A 
wondrous  fair  piece  of  work  truly,  and,  I  ween,  a 
quicker  one  than  ever  was  wrought  by  any  save 
holy  Dunstan,  or  the  foul  fiend.  Ha!"  exclaimed 
he,  cautiously  touching  it,  "  'tis  even  now  as  cold  as 
if  it  had  been  founded  last  St.  Barnabas ;  and  so 
I'll  e'en  sit  me  down  and  finish  the  work,  ere  I 
meet  that  wily  knave  Dominic  under  Bow  steeple." 

In  executing  this  part  of  the  Talisman,  the  young 
goldsmith  seemed  to  have  additional  skill  given  to 
his  hand,  and  more  than  ordinary  keenness  to  his 
graver,  so  that  the  whole  inscription  was  rapidly 
and  fairly  transferred  to  the  base  of  the  image; 
which  implied,  that  the  happiest  moments  had  been 
taken  for  its  perfection,  when  all  the  planetary  in- 
fluences'were  in  favourable  aspects.  As  he  traced 
the  last  line,  however,  the  figure  suddenly  fell  with 
a  loud  noise  upon  the  pavement  of  the  laboratory, 
and  stood  erect  upon  the  centre  of  the  stone ;  whilst 
the  mould  which  enveloped  it  flew  into  a  thousand 
pieces ! 

"The  fiend  take  these  juggleries,  and  the  knave 
who  made  them!"  exclaimed  Pierce,  endeavouring 
to  lift,  or  even  to  wrench,  the  gifted  image  from  the 
stone.  "  I'm  foully  sped  now,  I  trow;  for  here  the 
figure  stands  as  immoveable  as  Cheap  Standard  !— 
By  St.  Thomas !  I  might  as  well  try  to  pluck  up 


89 

Powles  Cross.  Mass!  now/*  continued  he.  stil) 
pulling  lustily  between  each  exclamation,  "how 
shall  I  unroot  this  golden  devil  ?  Marry ,  HI  e*en 
take  tongs  and  fire  prong,  and  wrench  >ip  the  stone, 
and  then  hammer  him  off  upon  the  anvil." 

As  his  strength  soon  enabled  him  to  effort  this, 
the  moment  the  stone  was  raised  from  the  ground 
the  figure  fell  from  it ;  and  the  cause  of  its  attach- 
ment was  immediately  shown  by  the  appearance  of 
an  antique  golden  cup  and  cover,  filled  with  coins 
of  the  same  metal,  which  had  been  buried  beneath 
it.  Master  Pierce  Malefant  carefully  concealed  the 
gold  and  the  Talisman,  let  down  the  stone  again 
into  its  cavity,  and  went  forth  to  keep  his  appoint- 
ment with  Dominic  Beadroll.  Of  this  interview 
it  is  only  important  for  the  reader  to  know  that 
Pierce  advised  the  scribe  to  send  two  stout  appari- 
tors from  the  Bishop  of  London  early  on  the  follow* 
ing  morning ;  adding,  that  it  was  now  certain  that 
Master  Touchstone  held  intercourse  with  a  magician 
and  an  evil  spirit,  for  the  discovery  of  hidden  trea- 
sures; and,  having  made  this  arrangement,  they 
adjourned  to  the  other  apprentices  at  the  Royal 
Rose. 

It  was  grey  morning  in  the  Wcstcheap  ere  the 
ancient  goldsmith  quitted  Master  Absolon  of  Bow* 
bell,  and  took  the  road  to  his  own  dwelling,  which 
he  found  wholly  unguarded,  and  even  deserted,  by 
Lis  knavish  apprentice.  Having  drummed  for  some 
time  impatiently  on  his  portal,  uttering  a  host  of 
those  gentle  execrations  which  rose  so  readily  to 
his  tongue,  Master  Touchstone  tried  the  lock,  which 
toon  yielded  to  his  strength,  the  rather  that 
excellent  deputy  had  never  fastened  it 


90 

Within,  the  whole  place  appeared  in  confusion ; 
and  it  was  with  many  a  vow  of  vengeance  at 
a  fitting  season,  that  the  goldsmith  set  about 
arranging  and  opening  his  shop.  Whilst  he  was 
thus  employed,  two  men  clothed  in  that  clerical 
kind  of  habit  generally  worn  by  summoners,  appa- 
ritors, and  other  retainers  of  the  ecclesiastical  law, 
came  up  to  him  and  addressed  him  with — "Good 
morrow  to  ye,  friend ;  you  are  called  Master  Igna- 
tius Touchstone,  as  we  take  it :  there  be  ill  reports 
of  you  abroad,  for  men  say  that  you  keep  an  evil 
spirit  in  your  house  here ;  and  we  have  warrant  to 
make  inquisition  touching  it,  and  to  summon  you 
to  answer  it  " 

"  Ye  say  truly,  masters,'*  replied  Touchstone,  in  a 
careless  and  rough  jesting  tone ;  "  I  wot  well  that 
for  nearly  seven  years  I  have  had  one  of  the  foul 
fiend's  own  cockrels  in  my  dwelling,  in  the  form  of 
a  losel  apprentice ;  howbeit,  his  heels  have  saved 
his  bones  this  morning,  seeing  that  he  has  run  away 
altogether.  And  now,  I  trow,  your  errand  is  fairly 
sped,  since  I  have  answered  ye,  and  you  may  sum- 
mon him  as  speedily  as  ye  list.** 

The  goldsmith  had  jast  grasped  his  staff  and 
certainly  would  have  succeeded  in  effectually  re- 
pulsing the  apparitors,  when  Cornelius  Zaubergoldt 
came  hastily  up,  and  burst  through  the  party  into 
the  house,  saying,  "Give  place;  let  me  pass:  I  can 
salute  no  man  now :  it  is  the  full  hour  of  perfection, 
and  the  Talisman  must  be  secured  now  or  never." 

"  Here,'s  an  ungodly  royster,"  cried  the  apparitor. 
u  By  holy  Powle,  this  is  the  other  sorcerer ;  let's 
seize  on  him  as  he  returns."  And,  as  he  spake,  the 
German  rushed  forth  from  the  laboratory,  with  all 


91 

the  most  violent  signs  of  grief  and  disappointment 
in  bis  looks,  exclaiming,  "  Lost!  lost !  the  labour  of 
years,  and  the  work  of  immortals — all  lost! — the  holy 
figure  destroyed,  and  the  spirit  which  dwelt  in  it 
gone  for  ever !  False  villain !"  continued  he,  rushing 
violently  towards  Touchstone,  "  give  me  back  my 
treasure,  the  mystic  Talisman  of  St.  Barnabas, 
which  only  last  night  I  left  within  thy  laboratory." 

"Here's  a  coil!"  exclaimed  Touchstone;  "here's 
a  goodly  coil,  indeed,  for  a  man  to  break  his  fast 
upon !  First  I  am  to  be  treated  like  a  foul  sorcerer, 
and  then  comes  a  mad  old  Easterling,  whom  I  have 
honoured  by  working  for  him  at  all  hours  without 
guerdon,  and  charges  me  with  the  loss  of  his  moon- 
shine treasures ;  for  albeit  he  promised  me  moun- 
tains of  gold  for  my  labours,  well  I  weened  that  I 
should  have  fewer  coins  than  crosses.  And  so  now 
go  to,  my  masters  all ;  an'  ye  will  depart  quickly,  I 
will  be  content  to  hold  all  your  maltreatment  but 
misprise ;  but  if  ye  do  not  now  make  away,  why 
beware  my  baston.  And  for  you,  Master  Cornelius, 
go — take  up  your  casket  within,  and  get  hence." 

"  The  fiend  take  the  casket !"  cried  the  German ; 
what  is  the  casket  when  the  jewel  is  gone  ?  I  tell 
thee,  that  only  yesternight  the  work  was  brought  to 
perfection  by  the  hand  of  thy  disciple;  for  thou, 
being  absent,  wert  rejected  from  the  holy  labour ; 
and  this  morning  I  find  the  matrix  broken,  the 
casket  void,  and  the  Talisman  of  St.  Barnabas  rent 
from  me !  Miserable  man  that  I  am,  where  shall  I 
look  for  my  treasure  ?  Thy  disciple  knew  the  good 
spirit  that  dwelt  in  the  work,  and  where  is  he  ?" 

"  Then  your  riddle  is  soon  read,'*  answered  Touch- 
stone ;  "  the  evil  spirit  hath  carried  off  the 


92 

one ;  for  I  trow  that  he  is  fled.  And  now,  I  wot, 
there  only  wants  Bow-bell  to  toll,  and  the  knaves 
of  Cheap  to  cry  clubs,  to  make  a  fair  day's  work  of 
it,  seeing  it  hath  begun  so  starkly." 

Even  as  he  spake,  the  bell  from  Bow  church 
steeple  began  to  ring  out  a  loud  and  hasty  note  of 
alarm ;  which,  however,  might  be  accounted  for  by 
knowing  that  before  Master  Touchstone  quitted  the 
steeple,  finding  the  clerk  nearly  overpowered  by  the 
night's  enjoyment,  he  had  carefully  blindfolded  him, 
and  stretched  him  on  the  hearth  to  recover.  Master 
Absolon's  first  thoughts  turned  to  his  duties,  and 
finding  all  dark,  without  considering  the  hour,  he 
supposed  it  to  be  about  curfew  time,  and  so  began 
to  toll.  The  citizens  came  hastily  together,  but  a 
previous  alarm  was  already  spread,  that  a  riot  had 
been  commenced  at  the  Still-yard,  which  was  fear- 
fully increasing.  The  insurgents  consisted  chiefly 
of  parties  from  the  several  trades  which  were,  or 
supposed  to  be,  injured  by  the  Easterlings,  being 
chiefly  mercers,  clothiers,  and  haberdashers  ;  aided 
by  that  numerous  and  quarrelsome  class  of  citizens, 
the  apprentices  of  London,  of  whom  our  friend 
Pierce  Malefant  was  one  of  the  foremost. 

The  Still-yard,  or  Mart-house,  was  a  large  stone 
building  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  a  short  dis- 
tance above  London-bridge,  erected  upon  the  spot 
which  even  now  bears  the  same  name.  Round  this 
edifice,  which  the  foreign  merchants  used  as  a  hall, 
were  several  other  smaller  buildings,  some  of  which 
were  of  wood,  occupied  as  dwellings  and  ware- 
houses, and  towards  which  the  tumultuous  force 
more  immediately  advanced ;  the  riotous  shouts  of 
their  march  becoming  distinguishable  by  the  alarming 


93 

cries  of  "  Clubs !  clubs  t  Down  with  the  Easterlings ! 
—Away  with  the  dog  Flemings ! — Fire  the  Still-yard ! 
and  carry  away  the  wares  to  honester  men's  houses ! 
—Rise,  men  of  London !  rise  on  the  false  Easterlings ! 
— Clubs  !  clubs !  cry  all — cry  all  I" 

Nor  were  the  actual  depredations  of  these  oyer* 
heated  artizans  less  ferocious  than  their  clamorous 
advance,  since  they  instantly  began  to  break  open 
and  plunder  all  the  buildings  where  they  could 
effect  an  entrance ;  whilst  the  unhappy  foreigners 
were  saved  from  entire  destructior  only  by  the 
assistance  of  some  smiths  and  carpenters,  who 
Tossed  over  to  them  from  Southwark.  In  the 
mean  time,  however,  notice  of  the  tumult  had  been 
sent  to  Master  William  Martin,  the  then  Lord  Mayor, 
who  hastily  assembled  the  Sheriffs  and  principal 
citizens,  and  increased  the  confusion  at  Touch- 
stone's house  by  calling  on  him  for  his  aid,  assuring 
him  that  his  apprentice,  Pierce,  was  one  of  the  fore- 
most of  the  rioters.  The  Lord  Mayor's  engagement 
that  Master  Touchstone  should  be  forthcoming  to 
answer  any  charges,  soon  liberated  him  from  the 
apparitors;  and  Cornelius  having  rushed  out  of 
the  house  the  moment  he  heard  of  an  attack  upon  the 
Still-yard,  the  party  hastened  down  to  the  scene  of 
action,  from  which,  however,  most  of  the  rioters  fled 
on  the  arrival  of  the  civic  force,  though  several  others 
were  taken  and  lodged  in  the  Tower. 

Considerable  destruction  had,  notwithstanding, 
already  been  effected.  Several  storehouses  were 
partly  broken  down  and  despoiled  ;  and  the  dwell- 
ing of  Zaubergoldt,  being  of  wood,  was  in  flames ; 
whilst  the  unhappy  German,  distracted  with 
fosses,  was  running  wildly  to  and  fro  in  front  & 


94 

"  See,  see !"  he  exclaimed,  pointing  to  Pierce 
Malefant,  in  the  hottest  of  the  fray,  with  the  Talis- 
man of  St.  Barnabas  suspended  about  his  neck; 
"  see  how  the  foul  robber  bears  away  the  holy 
image  of  the  Spirit  of  gold ! — Ha !  now  the  wondrous 
influence  works,  and  'tis  drawn  to  the  fire  by  the  gold 
which  is  burning  within!  Holy  saints 9  how  the  fated 
youth  climbs  the  burning  ruins !  Wretch  that  I  am ! 
to  behold  the  greatest  treasure  of  the  world  perish 
before  mine  eyes! — Now  he  stands  upon  the  roof! 
— Now  the  gold  is  attracted  to  that  beneath! — and 
now " 

Cornelius  sank  senseless  on  the  ground,  as  the 
unhappy  Pierce  Malefant  fell  into  the  flames,  dragged 
thither  by  the  force  of  the  Talisman  he  wore:  but 
though  the  old  German  recovered,  and  even  lived  to 
a  very  old  age,  his  senses  and  tranquillity  were 
gone  for  ever!  And  it  is  recorded,  that  in  the 
streets  of  Venice,  anciently  at  the  Carnival  time, 
there  was  wont  to  come  upon  the  Piazza  di  san 
Marco  the  figure  of  a  tall  venerable  man,  dressed  in 
a  torn  but  rich  Eastern  habit,  with  a  silver  cross 
upon  his  breast,  anxiously  looking  at  every  one, 
and  then  turning  disappointed  away.  He  was  com- 
monly known  by  the  name  of  "The  mad  Gold- 
smith of  Milan  ;"  and  one  who  wrote  of  him  in  the 
sixteenth  century  gave  him  this  character  (which, 
with  the  foregoing  circumstances,  makes  it  ex- 
tremely probable  that  he  could  be  no  other  than 
Cornelius  Zaubergoldt): — "  Suche  is  my  reporte  of 
this  strange  wanderer,  and  so  shall  he  roame  till 
deathe  or  doomes-day  take  him  from  the  worlde. 
He  hathe  traversed  o'er  manie  countries,  and  is  well 
seene  in  many  tongues ;    but  thoughe  he  mighte 


96 

beholde  the  fairest  sightes  of  the  earthe,  and  cookie 
talke  of  its  moste  approved  marvailes,  yet  hathe  he 
no  eyes  but  to  searche  after  that  which  he  hathe 
loste,  and  no  speeche  save  to  enquire  if  any  man 
hathe  founde  his  treasure/9 

For  Master  Touchstone,  it  remains  only  to  be  re* 
corded,  that  he  soon  cleared  himself  from  all  charges 
of  sorcery ;  but  from  that  day  he  was  said  to  be  an 
altered  man,  seldom  using  his  walking-staff  as  a 
weapon,  and  never  swearing  his  usual  oaths.  The 
golden  chalice  which  the  Talisman  of  St  Barnabas 
discovered  in  his  laboratory,  he  bequeathed  to  the 
Goldsmiths'  Company,  though  it  was  lost  in  the  great 
fire  of  London ;  after  which  also  his  other  gifts  ceased ; 

though  the  following  literal  extract  from  his  ancient 
Will  and  Testament,  will  perhaps  be  the  best  moral 
and  the  best  conclusion  which  I  can  now  put  to 
this  extended  narrative. — "  And  forasmuche  as  grete 
and  memorable  thynges  oughte  not  by  man  to  be 
aoone  forgottene,  I  give  and  bequeathe  to  the  wor- 
shipftill  Companye  of  Goulds  my  the's  a  high  standynge 
cuppe  and  cover,  all  of  the  beste  goulde,  called  Cor- 
nelius, in  memorye  of  an  Almayne  of  that  name 
with  whom  I  sometime  had  famylyaritye ;  the.  said 
cuppe  to  be  fylled  with  sacke,  and  drunke  from  by 
all  the  free  brothers  of  this  Companye,  on  the  Tues- 
daye  nexte  before  the  feaste  of  the  Translation  of  Saint 
Edwarde,  yearly ;  and  I  also  give  X*.  for  a  dinner 
for  the  sayd  Companye,  to  be  helde  on  that  day  for 
ever.  In  worthie  memorie  that  on  that  day  I  sawe 
the  sudden  falle  of  prosperous  vyllaynye,  and  howe 
yll-gotten  ryches  wyll  oftentymes  ead  a  man  to 
dannger,  and  even  unto  deth." 


im 


NATURAL  MAGIC. 


TO    FASCINATE    B.IRDS. 

Mix  together  the  juice  of  rue  and  vinegar,  and 
steep  corn  therein ;  this  corn,  thrown  to  birds,  shall 
so  fascinate  them  upon  their  eating  thereof,  that  they 
may  be  easily  caught  with  the  hand.  In  like  man- 
ner, poppy  seeds  steeped  in  brandy  for  twenty-four 
hours  will  have  the  same  effect. 

THE   MAGIC   VESSEL. 


Ijpon  the  bottom  of  a  vessel  (see  above  figure) 
lay  three  pieces  of  money,  the  first  at  **,  the  second 
at  b,   and  the  third  at  c.     Then  place  a  person  at 

d,  where  he  can  see  no  farther  into  the  vessel  than 

e.  You  may  then  inform  him,  that  by  pouring 
water  into  the  vessel  you  will  make  him  see  three 
different  pieces  of  money ;  and  bid  him  observe  that 
you  do  not  convey  any  money  in  with  the  water. 
But  be  careful  that  you  pour  the  water  in  gently,  or 
the  pieces  will  move  out  of  their  places,  and  thereby 
destroy  the  object. 


97 

Now  when  the  water  rises  up  to  f,  the  piece  at  a 
will  be  visible ;  when  it  reaches  o,  both  a  and  b 
will  be  visible ;  and  when  it  comes  up  to  h,  all  three 
pieces  can  be  distinguished ! 

TO  HAKE  THE  FACES  OF  A  PARTY  APPEAR  OH  ASTLT 
AND  DEATH-LIKE. 

This  is  a  curious  experiment,  and  formerly  the 
work  of  superstition,  invented  by  the  cunning  friars 
(as  an  old  author  writes).  In  order  to  perform  this 
strange  feat,  take  half  a  pint  of  spirits  of  wine,  or 
of  strong  brandy,  and  having  wanned  it,  put  u 
handful  of  salt  with  it  into  a  basin ;  then  set  it  on 
fire  with  a  lighted  piece  of  paper,  and  it  will  have 
the  effect  of  making  every  one  present  look  "as  if 
they  were  newly  risen  from  their  cold  graves." 

Note. — This  can  only  be  done  in  a  close  room. 


98 


TRADITIONS  AND  SUPERSTITIONS  OF 

FORMER  TIMES. 


PROGNOSTICATIONS  FROM  THE  MOON'S  AGE. 

Moon9*  Age, 

1st  day.       The  child  born  is  said  to  be  long-lived. 

The  dream  true,  and  the  event  satis- 
tying. 

2d  day.        The  dream  will  be  unprofitable.    The 

child  born  on  this  day  grows  fast.  It 
is  a  fortunate  day  for  searching  after 
remarkable  things. 

3d  day.        The  dream  good.     The  child  born  this 

day  is  said  to  be  fortunate  with  great 
men  or  Princes. 

4th  day.      Unhappy,  evil,  and  perilous,  especially 

to  those  who  fall  sick.  The  dream 
will  not  be  effected. 

5th  day.       Good  to  begin  any  work,  or  to  voyage 

on  water.  A  good  dream  will  be  ef- 
fected and  brought  about ;  but  a  bad 
dream  will  have  no  meaning.  The 
child  born  this  day  proves  a  traitor. 

6th  day.      The  fugitive  shall  be  recovered.   Dreams 

suspended.  The  child  born  will,  it  is 
said,  be  short-lived. 

7th  day.       The  sick  person  whose  sickness  began 

on  this  day  shall  soon  be  well.  The 
dream  must  be  kept  secret.  The 
child  born  this  day  will  be  long-lived 
and  liable  to  trouble. 


99 

8th  day.      The  dream  true  and  certain.    The  child 

born  long-lived. 

9th  day.       The  dream  will  turn  out  good  next  day. 

10th  day.     The  dream  will  be  soon  effected.    The 

sickness  perilous.  The  child  born 
this  day  is  said  to  be  fated  to  long 
life.    The  ©  being  Alchochodon. 

11th  day.     Here  rules  Babiel,  enemy  to  dreams; 

hence  the  dreams  will  be  of  no  effect. 
The  child  born  this  day  shall  be 
afflicted  in  travelling,  and  irreligious. 

12th  day.     The  dream  good   and  effective.     The 

child  ingenious  and  long-lived. 

13th  day.     The  dream  true  and    effective.     The 

child  then  born  will  be  foolish  or  a 
zealot. 

14th  day.  The  dream* shall  be  ambiguous,  doubt- 
ful, and  the  effect  suspended.  The 
child  born  this  day  will  be  an  extra- 
ordinary genius.  His  fate  is  ruled  by 
the  demon  or  angel  Cassiel,  in  the 
hierarchy  of  Uriel. 
15th  day.     He  who  falls  sick  this  day  it  shall  be 

unto  death.    The  dream  true.    For- 
tune indifferent.     The  child  under  ? , 
handsome,  fair,  and  fortunate. 
16th  day.    The  dreams  will  be  accomplished.    The 

child  long-lived.      9   is  said  to  be 
Alchochodon. 
17th  day.    If  this  fall  on  a  Saturday,  it  is  said  to 

prove  very  unfortunate.  The  dream 
not  effected  for  three  days.  The 
child  born  on  this  day  is  said  to  be 
unhappy. 


100 

18th  day.  The  dream  is  said  to  be  true  and  cer- 
tain. The  child,  through  much  labour 
and  travel,  will  come  to  high  dignity 
and  honours. 

i  9th  day.     Hiel  rules.    The  day  dangerous.    Dream 

forbodes  ill  fortune.  The  child  likely 
to  prove  mischievous,  or  a  thief. 

20th  day.     The  dream  true.     The  child,  as  before, 

a  cheat. 

21st  day.     The  day  is  said  to  be  good.     The  dream 

unprofitable.  The  child  corpulent, 
strong,  but  a  cheat. 

22d  daw      Gebil  rules.     The  dream  is  true.     The 

child  good,  docile,  and  long-lived. 

23d  da  y .  A  fortunate  day.  The  dream,  neverthe- 
less, is  false.  The  child  born  this 
day  will  be  deformed,  but  clever, 

24th  day.     The  dream  of  no  effect.     The  child  then 

born  soft-tempered,  and  voluptuous. 

25th  day.     Unfortunate  dr^am.     Adversity  for  the 

child  then  born. 

26th  day      Dream  certain.     The  child,  when  adult, 

will  be  rich  and  honoured. 

27th  d^iy      A  good  day.     The  child  fortunate,  but 

a  great  dreamer.     Dreams  prevail. 

28th  day      The  sick  will  die.     The  dream  bad,  as 

the  spirits  are  troubled  with  religious 
whims.  The  child  born  this  day  will 
die  young ;  and  if  it  live  past  five 
months,  will  prove  a  zealot,  or  an 
idiot. 

29th  day.     Fortunate;  Raphael  predominates.   The 

child  born  long-lived,  and  fated  to 
riches.     Dreams  true 


30th  and  last  (lay.    Unfortunate.    Child  short-lived. 

The  sick  person  will  die.     Cassiel 

predominates. 
With  respect  to  the  foregoing  traditions,  they  are 
very  ancient,  and  are  therefore  curious.  Their  truth 
or  falsehood  may  be  proved  by  observation. — The 
days  of  the  moon's  age  may  be  known  by  the  com- 
monest almanack. 

AN  AMULET  OR  CHARM 

FOR  LOVB. 


"He  that  beareth  this  charm  about  him,  written 
on  virgin  parchment,  shall  obtain  love  of  lord  and 
lady." — Ancient  MSS. 

CHARMING   AWAT  THE  HOOPING  COUGH. 

An  English  lady,  the  wife  of  an  officer,  accompa- 
nied her  husband  to  Dublin  not  very  long  ago,  when 
his  regiment  was  ordered  to  that  station.  She  en- 
gaged an  Irish  girl  as  nurse-maid  in  her  family,  and 
a  short  time  after  her  arrival  was  astonished  by  an 
urgent  request  from  this  damsel  to  permit  her  to 
charm  tittle  miss  from  ever  having  the  hooping  cough— 
(then  prevailing  in  Dublin) ! 

The  lady  inquired  how  this  was  performed ;  and 


not  long  after  had,  in  -walking  through  the  streets, 
many  times  the  pleasure  of  witnessing  the  process, 
which  is  simply  this : — An  ass  is  brought  before  the 
door  of  the  house,  into  whose  mouth  a  piece  of 
bread  is  introduced,  and  the  child  being  passed 
three  times  over  and  under  the  animal's  body,  the 
charm  is  completed ;  and  of  its  efficacy  in  pre- 
venting the  spread  of  a  very  distressing,  and  some- 
times fatal  disorder,  the  lower  class  of  Irish  are 
certain. 

TALISMANS. 

THE  SPIRAL  SEMAPHORA. 

An  Hebrew  Talisman. 


Among  the  Hebrew  Cabalists,  the  following 
charm  is  said  to  be  of  singular  efficacy  towards 
success  in  life.  "Procure  a  piece  of  virgin  silver  in 
the  increase  of  the  moon  ;  let  it  be  well  guarded, 
and  kept  free  from  contamination  with  other  metals. 
Then,  on  the  day  when  the  sun  is  in  trine  to  the 
moon  from  the  signs  Scorpio  and  Pisces,  mould  the 
metal  into  the  form  of  a  medal,  and  engrave  the 
words  thereon.  It  will  be  more  precious  to  thee 
than  the  gold  of  Ophir." — Manuscript  of  the  laic 
Dr.  Tdiock. 


103 

GEOMANCY. 

•  No.  2. 


TO   CA8T   A    FIGURE    OF    THE     TRIPLICITIES,    AC- 
CORDING   TO    SIMPLE    GEOMANCY. 

It  has  been  before  observed  (page  29),  that  the 
method  made  use  of  in  working  the  Schemes  of 
Geomancy,  was  to  mark  down  a  certain  number  of 
points  or  dots,  casually,  without  counting  the  num- 
ber, and  then  joining  them  by  the  rules  of  art  into 
a  Scheme,  or  Figure,  whence  the  answers  were 
readily  obtained. 

Such  is  the  process;  but  a  very  curious,  and, 
indeed,  ancient,  manuscript  now  before  me  gives  the 
following  formula  for  divining,  which  will  probably 
be  read  with  interest,  as  affording  a  partial  view  of 
the  singular  hold  which  superstition  had  upon  the 
customs,  and  even  amusements,  of  former  times. 

Extract  /ram  an  ancient  Manuscript  of  the  Eleventh 

Century. 

"  The  Seven  Planets  are  called  the  Kings  of  the 
World ;  and  every  one  of  these  may  do  in  his  hemi- 
sphere as  an  emperor  in  his  empire,  or  a  prince  in 
his  kingdom.  They  are  termed  by  some  of  the 
wisest  of  men,  Seven  Candlesticks  of  Light  and  of 
Life,  and  are  as  seven  quick  spirits,  whereunto  all 
living  things  and  all  terrestrial  affairs  are  subject. 

"  Now  to  divine  by  their  influences  is  the  scope 
of  our  doctrine,  even  by  the  art  called  Geomancy, 
which  is  none  other  but  the  cogitation  of  the  heart 
of  the  asker,  joined  to  the  earnest  desire  of  the  wiU 


104 

to  know  the  thing  or  matter  uncertain  and  dark,  which 
nevertheless  is  contained  in  the  arcanum,  or  hidden 
cabinet  of  nature,  and  governed  by  the  secrets  of 
fortune. 

t€  This  art,  curious  in  its  method,  and  of  diverse 
efficacy,  is  attainable  by  him  alone  who  will,  amidst 
thorny  paths  and  rugged  journeys,  guide  his  foot- 
steps aright ;  for  doubtless  divers  ways  lead  to  the 
selfsame  end.  But  know,  O  man !  whoever  thou 
art,  that  shall  inquire  into  these  hidden  mysteries, 
that  thou  must  forbear  to  consult  the  heavenly 
oracles,  or  to  cast  thy  divining  points,  in  a  cloudy, 
windy,  or  rainy  season ;  or  when  the  heavens  above 
thee  are  stricken  with  thunder  ;  or  when  the  light- 
nings glare  amidst  thy  path ;  for  thou  art  governed 
by  an  invisible  demon  who  wills  thy  answer, 
and  will  guide  thy  trembling  fingers  to  cast  thy 
figure  rightly.  So  that  what  to  thee  may  seem  the 
sport  and  pastime  of  very  chance,  is  the  work  of  an 
unseen  power.  Therefore,  mark  well,  else  the 
mighty  spirits  of  the  earth,  who  rule  thy  destiny, 
will  be  to  thee  as  deceivers,  and  even  as  the  false 
and  lying  spirits  recorded  in  holy  writ. 

"  Thou  shalt  therefore  cast  thy  divining  points  in 
earth  (thy  fellow  clay)  tempered  according  to  the 
high  and  hidden  mysteries  of  the  seven  wandering 
fires  of  heaven,  which  the  vulgar  call  planets,  or 
stars.  Thou  shalt  take  clean  earth,  in  the  manner 
of  sand,  mingled  with  the  dews  of  the  night,  and  the 
rain  of  the  clouds  that  shall  fall  during  the  full  of  the 
moon,  commixed  in  equal  portions  for  the  space  of 
seven  days,  under  the  celestial  signs  or  reigning 
constellations,  or  otherwise  in  the  lordship  of  the 
hours  of  the  presiding  planets ;  and  then  shalt  thou 


105. 

mingle  the  whole  mass  together,  to  the  intent  that  - 
by  their  commixion  the  universal  effect,  may  be  the 
better  known,  and  the  end  thereof  prophesied. 

"Choose,  therefore,  a  clear  and  goodly  season, 
bright  and  fair,  and  neither  dark,  windy,  nor  rainy — 
and  fear  not,  but  rest  assured  thou  shalt  be  satisfied. . 

"Moreover,  shouldest  thou  make  use  of  the 
magical  suffumigations  of  the  heavenly  jrbs,  thou 
shalt  make  glad  (by  sympathy)  the  spirits  of  the, 
air.  They  are  these; — viz.  mastic,  cinnamon,  frank- 
incense, musk,  the  wood  of  aloes,  coriandrum, 
violets,  saunders,  and  saffron.  Commix  and  ignite 
these  in  due  and  just  proportions  ;  and  then  mayest 
thou  proceed  to  consult  thy  future  lot.  There- 
fore, cast  aside  all  unbelief  and  all  vain  scoffings , 
for  the  Fathers  of  the  Church,  and  the  wise  and 
holy  men  of  all  ages,  have  exercised  these  matters, 
-and  truth  is  in  them,  if  thou  searchest  rightly'9 

Happily  for  the  reader,  there  is  not  the  least 
occasion  for  the  superstitious  observance  contained 
iu  the  foregoing  ceremonial,  or  he  might  grope  on  in 
darkness  and  mystery,  till  utterly  bewildered  in  the 
labyrinth  of  error.  It  is  quite  sufficient,  and  has 
equally  the  same  effect,  to  cast  the  points  upon 
slate  or  paper,  or  with  pen  or  pencil,  as  on  the 
earth. 

The  following  are  therefore 

The  First  Steps  of  the  Figure. 

When  the  asker  or  inquirer  has  thought  earnestly 
upon  the  subject  or  matter  of  which  he  inquires, 
let  him  mark  down  sixteen  lines  of  dots,  marks,  or 
points,  without  counting  them,  so  that  at  the  least 
there  be  not  less  than  twelve  points  in  each  line, — 

o 


106 


which  done,  let  him  join  the  points  or  marks  in  each 
line  together,  two  and  two ;  and  if  the  number  of 
points  in  the  line  be  even,  which  is  if  they  will  all 
join  together,  let  him  mark  down  at  the  end  of  the 
line  two  dots,  ciphers,  or  marks ;  but  if  the  number 
of  points  in  the  line  be  odd,  which  is  when  one  remains, 
after  they  are  joined  by  two  and  two,  then  let  him  write 
down  but  one  point.  Every  four  lines  form  one 
Geomantic  figure,  as  follows : — 


HH 
HH 
HH. 


First  FigufK 

-\HHHHHHH    oo 
HHHI  o 


H 


HH\-\H 


HHHH 

HH! 


o  o 


Second  Figuf 


HHHHHH  l-l  H  H        o  o 


HHH 


\'\-\  H  H 
•I  (-1  H 


H  H  H  H  H  H 


HHHI 


■II 


H 
HH 


I — I    — I   I — |    I      1   I      I   I — I   J 

HH 


HHHI 
H  H  H  H  l-l  H  l-l  H 
-\HHH  H  HHHI 


Third  Figure. 

O 

O 

O  O 

O 


Fourth  Figure. 

H  \-\\-\  H  H  H  l-l  I-'  H  H  ©  o 
H  H  H  H  H  H  H  H  H 


HHH 


HHHI- 

1   I      J   I      I   I 


H 


O   O 

O  o 

o  o 


107 

To  exemplify  and  explain  the  first  steps,  it  will  be 
seen,  by  counting  the  points  in  line  the  first,  that 
the  number  of  points  are  twenty,  and  even,  conse* 
quently  they  admit  of  being  joined  together  two  and 
two ;  but  in  the  second  line  the  number  of  points 
are  but  thirteen,  and  consequently  being  odd,  cannot 
be  all  joined  but  by  leaving  one  point  unjoined  to 
the  rest.  The  same  rules  are  observed  in  the  other 
lines,  which  produces  the  four  first  steps  of  the 
figure ;  and  in  placing  them  they  must  be  read  from 
right  to  left,  as  underneath. 

4th  3d  2d  1st 

O  O  O  0  0  0  0 

o  o  o  o  o 

o  o  o  o  O  0  0 

o  o  o  o  o 

In  all  cases  they  are  placed  in  the  same  manner.  , . 

The  next  process  is  to  form  four  other  figurea 
from  out  of  the  first  four,  which  is  done  by  taking 
the  number  of  points  in  the  separate  lines  of  each 
figure ;  thus,  in  the  figure 

No.  1,  the  points  in  the  first  line 

are  two,  placed  thus  o  o 

In  No.  2,  the  points  in  the  first  line 

are  also  two,  placed  thus  o  o 

In  No.  3  there  is  but  one  point,  thus  o 

In  No.  4  there  are  again  two,  thus  o  o 


Giving  this  figure, 
No.  5. 


o  o 


108 

Figure  the  6th  is  found  the  same  way,  by  taking 
the  odd  or  even  points  in  the  second  line  of  the 
figures,  thus : — 

Figure  tf. 

In  the  second  line  of  No.  1  is  an  odd  point,  thus    o 

In  the  second  line  of  No.  2  is  also  an  odd  point    o 

In  the  second  line  of  No.  3  is  also  an  odd  point    o 

In  the  second  line  of  No.  4  are  two  points,  thus  o  o 

o 

Giving  this  figure,        1     o 

No.  6.  )     o 

o  o 

Figure  the  7th  is  also  found  the  same  way ;  thus 

Figure  7. 

In  the  third  line  of  No.  1 ,  there  are  two  points, 

thus  o  o 

In  the  third  line  of  No.  2,  one  point,  thus  o 

In  the  third  line  of  No.  3,  two  points,  thus  o  o 

In  the  third  line  of  No.  4,  also  two  points,  thus  o  o 

£  o  o 
Giving  this  figure,        J     o 
No.  7.  *)  o  o 

*   o  o 

Figure  the  8th  is  formed  thus,  the  same  way. 

Figure  %. 

In  the  fourth  line  of  No.  1,  one  point  o 

In  the  fourth  line  of  No.  2,  one  point  o 

In  the  fourth  line  of  No.  3,  one  point  o 

In  the  fourth  line  of  No.  4,  two  points  o  o 

C     ° 

Giving  this  figure,       j     o 

No.  8.  \     o 

f  oo 


loa 


The  next  step  is  to  place  the  whole  in  order  from 
right  to  left,  as  under. 


8 

7 

6 

5 

4 

3 

2 

1 

0 

o  o 

o 

0  0 

O   O 

o 

O  0 

0  o 

0 

o 

o 

O  0 

O   0 

0 

o 

o 

0 

o  o 

o 

O 

0   0 

O   0 

o 

o  o 

o  o 

o  o 

0  0 

O   O 

0  O 

O 

o 

0 

Nest,  a  triangle  is  formed  out  of  each,  by  joining 
together  the  1st  and  2d,  the  3d  and  4th,  the  5th  and 
6th,  and  the  7th  and  8th  figures  thus,  according  as 
the  points  in  each  are  odd  or  even. 


8        7 

6        5 

4 

3 

2        1 

0       o  o 

0       0  o 

o 

0       o 

0  0     o  o 

0          o 

o  o 

o 

0       o 

o        o 

0          O   0 

O           0 

0 

O      0  0 

0        O  0 

0  0     o  o 

O  0     o  o 

0 

0        0 

o        o 

12 

11 

10 

9 

o 

o 

o 

O  0 

o  o 

o 

o 

o  o 

o 

o  o 

0  0 

o 

0  o 

0 

o 

0  0 

By  this  means,  an  additional  four  figures,  Nos.  0, 
10,  11,  and  J  2,  are  gained,  after  which  they  are 
>gain  to  be  joined  together  triangularly,  as  9  and  10, 
tod  11  and  12,  thus: 


8        7 

6        5 

4 

3 

2        1 

o      oo 

O        0  0 

O  0 

o 

0   O      0  0 

o         o 

0         O  0 

O   0 

o 

o        o 

o      o  o 

O            0 

0         O    0 

0         O   0 

0  o     o  o 

0  O     0  o 

0  o 

o 

o        o 

12 

11 

10 

9 

o 

0 

0 

0  o 

0  o 

o 

o 

0  0 

o 

0  0 

O   0 

o 

o  o 

O  0 

0 

0  0 

no 

14  13 

o  o  o 

o  o 

o  -                   o 

o  o  o 

And  lastly,  No.  13  and  14  are  joined  in  like  manner 
together  thus  ;  No.  13  has  one  mark  and  odd  in  the 
first  line,  and  No.  14  two. 

Hgurt  1$. 

The  number  three  is  odd,  marked  thus  o 

In  the  second  line  of  each,  two  points,  even  o  o 

In  the  third  line  of  each,  two,  also  even  o  o 

In  the  fourth  line  of  each,  three,  odd  o 

The  whole  process  is  exemplified  in  the  complete 
figure,  which  is  here  given. 

Example  1 


O         0 

o 

o 

o  o 

o 

o      o 

( 

DO      O  0 

o        o 

o 

0  o 

o 

o      o 

o        o 

o      o 

o 

o 

o 

0 

0     o  o 

O         0  0 

o  o    o 

0      0   ( 

0     0  o 

o 

0        0 

o        o 

o 

0 

0 

o  o 

o  0 

o 

0 

o  o 

o 

o  o 

o  o 

o 

0  o 

o  o 
o 
o 

O  0 

o  o 

o 

0 

o 

0 

o 

o  o 

o 

o  o 
o  o 

o 


Ill 


In  order,  however,  to  render  the  reader  perfect  in 
casting  his  figures,  I  shall  subjoin  one  more  example 
at  large. 


Example  2. 

\-\H\-AHHH\ 
\-*HHHHHH 


HHH 
HHH 


HI 
HI 


HHHHH^Hl 


ib.  i. 

o 

o  o 
o 
o 

No.  2. 

o 
a 
o 
a 

No.  2. 


O  O 


HHHH\-\HH\ 
HHHHHH 


H 
HH 


H 


H 


HHH\-\HH\ 


|_|  |_| 


No.  4. 
O 

o  o 

o  o 

o 


o 
o 

o  o 
o 


o 

o 

o 

o  o 


o  o 

o 

o 
o  o 


o 
o 

o  o 
o 


o 

o  o 
o  o 

o 


o  o 

o 

o 
o  o 


o 
o 

o 
o 


o 

o  o 

o 

o 


112 

o  o               o  o  o  o 

o  o              o  o  o  o 

o                  o  o  o  o 

o                  o  o  o  o 


en 


a 


«  14  13 

%  o  o 

3!  o  o  oo 

I  o  o  o 

*  o  o  15  o      ? 

Judge. 

o  o 
o  o 

o 

o 

In  resolving  questions  by  simple  Geomancy,  it  is 
the  three  last  Jigures  alone,  No.  13,  14,  and  15,  which 
are  used  in  giving  the  answers.     These  are  termed 

A   FIGURE  OF  TRIPLICITY. 

Of  these  three  figures,  No.  13  is  termed  the  Right 
Witness,  and  No.  14  the  Left  Witness  ;  out  of  these 
two  is  drawn  the  Judge  of  the  whole  figure,  to 
whom  the  sentence  or  answer  of  the  whole  question 
belongs,  as  will  be  hereafter  shown. 

There  is  a  striking  peculiarity,  or  arithmetical 
property,  in  a  scheme  of  Geomancy  thus  cast; 
which  is,  that  only  eight  out  of  the  sixteen  figures 
can  ever  be  found  in  the  place  of  the  Judge ;  the 
latter,  therefore,  is  always  formed  of  even  points. 
For  it  must  be  observed,  that  to  the  first  four  figures 
belong  the  ground-work  of  the  whole;  and  these 
must  be  either  odd  or  even : — if  odd,  the  next  four 
figures  will  be  also  odd  ;  and,  according  to  a  geo- 
metrical axiom,  out  of  two  negative  qualities  comes 
an  affirmative;  and,   therefore,  the  Judge  will  be 


113 

even.  Again,  if  the  first  four  figures  are  even,  the 
next  four  figures  will  be  even  also,  and  of  course 
the  Judge  wilt  always  be  even.     Thus,  the  figures 

00  o  oo      o        o      oooo      o 

00  o  o  ooooo       oo       o 

00  o  oo      o       oo       o         o  oo 

00  o  o  oo      o      oo      o  oo 

are  the  only  figures  which  can  ever  be  the  Judge, 
being  all  of  an  even  number  of  points ;  and  the  figures 

o        o        o      oooooooo      o 

00         O         OOOO         O         OO         O  0 

O        OOOOOOOO        o  o  o 

o        o      oo      o      oooo      o      oo 

never  can  be  judges,  for  the  reasons  before  shown. 

At  first  sight,  the  reader  may  probably  feel 
inclined  to  discover  many  difficulties  in  the  way  of 
casting  a  figure;  but  a  little  practice  will  render 
the  system  familiar,  plain,  and  easy,  therefore  let 
him  not  reject  it  without  a  trial.  The  next  paper 
(No.  III.)  will  explain  the  method  of  obtaining  the 
answers,  in  which  the  reader  will  at  once  see  the 
easiness  of  the  method  propounded. 


114 


THE    ASTROLOGER. 


No.  III. 


NATIVITY  OF  THAT  CELEBRATED  PREACHER, 

THE  REV.  EDW.  IRVING,  A.M. 


\*    *\    cJy  /       *\      ©15*.  43      / 

vx 

THE  REV.  E.  IRVING, 

Born  Aug.  4, 1792, 

1H.30M.,P.M. 

55°.  2(T  North  Lat. 
3.  0  West  Long. 

/  **> 

/  «v- 

/  * 

115 


PLANETS     DECLINATION. 
©   17.     0  N. 

]i    6.  30  S. 
¥  15.  45  N. 
6    9.49  N. 
V.    8.  30  S. 
>  *  10.  30  S. 

?  18.    ON. 
?  10.    ON. 

The  Nativity  of  the  Rev.  Edw.  Irving,  a  man 
who  has  obtained  such  remarkable  celebrity  both 
a*  an  orator  and  as  a  writer  among  the  religious 
world,  cannot  fail  to  be  considered  as  a  curiosity  by 
the  astrological  student ;  particularly  at  the  present 
time,  when  the  reverend  orator  is  assuming  the 
dignity  of  a  prophetic  interpreter  of  the  sacred 
writings ;  which  his  recent  discourses  upon  the  mil- 
lennium, the  return  of  the  Jews  to  the  Holy  Land, 
*fld  the  temporal  advent  of  the  Messiah,  evinces; 
tad  which  have  lately  made  rather  an  unusual  noise 
among  a  certain  class  of  persons. 

It  was  obtained  from  Mr.  Irving  himself  by  a 
gentleman,  who,  being  a  student  in  Astrology,  had 
sufficient  tact  to  raise  a  desire  in  Mr.  Irving  relative 
to  his  nativity  being  calculated,  while  arguing  in 
favour  of  the  Astral  Science,  and  setting  forth  its 
advantages  over  the  new-fangled  doctrines  of  Phreno- 
logy. The  student  may,  therefore,  depend  upon  the 
horoscope  being  perfectly  correct. 

I  have  stated  the  manner  in  which  the  horoscope 
was  obtained,  merely  to  guard  against  misrepre- 
sentation;   but  the  merest  tyro  in  the  celestial 


116 

science  will  at  once  perceive  the  extraordinary 
oositions  therein,  and  will  be  led  to  appreciate 
.he  real  value  of  an  art,  which  shines  the  more 
brilliant,  the  more  its  doctrines  are  put  to  the  test  of 
experience. 

What,  for  instance,  can  better  evince  the  singular 
character  of  this  orator,  than  Mercury,  the  ruler  of 
the  mental  and  intellectual  faculties ;  angular  in  the  mid- 
heaven,  the  house  of  Honour,  within  three  degrees  of 
culminating,  in  the  sign  Virgo,  his  celestial  exaltation  ? 
or,  what  can  depicture  the  energy  and  fiery  ardour 
which  the  native  displays  in  his  discourses,  better 
than  Mercury  being  in  close  zodiacal  parallel  to 
Mars  ?  or,  what  can  set  forth  his  peculiar  devotion 
to  the  pulpit,  and  contempt  of  the  reigning  fashions 
and  vices  of  the  day,  more,  than  the  moon  being  in 
close  zodiacal  parallel  to  Jupiter,  and  Jupiter  in 
parallel  to  Saturn  ? 

His  celebrity  in  life  is  plain  enough  to  be  seen 
from  the  conjunction  of  three  planets  in  the  sign 
Leo,  —Sol,  Venus,  and  Herschel, — in  the  ninth  house 
(the  house  of  religion,  astrologically  speaking),  and 
in  quintile  ray  to  Mars  and  Jupiter,  the  latter  two 
in  conjunction,  in  the  cardinal  equinoctial  sign 
Libra.  The  same  configuration  portends  the  most 
eminent  friends  and  eminent  popularity,  or  public 
notice,  which  is  the  most  fortunate  configuration  in 
the  horoscope. 

Still,  the  nativity,  although  fortunate  in  an  eminent 
degree,  is  not  without  evil  aspects,  for  no  human 
good  is  perfect;  so  say  the  sublime  doctrines  which 
the  native  promulgates,  and  so  says  Mr.  Irving's 
horoscope.  Here  is  the  Moon  in  opposition  to 
Mercury,    and    in    sesquiquadrate     to    Mars    and 


117 

upiter,  which  naturally  denotes  irritability  and 
impatience  of  temper,  restlessness  of  ideas,  power- 
fulness  of  passion,  too  much  sensibility  and  acute- 
ness  of  feelings  to  admit  of  contentment  (leaving 
religion,  and  its  power  over  the  mind,  out  of  the 
question),  and  many  losses  of  money,  defection  of 
supporters,  faithlessness  of  friends,  and  the  consequent 
evils  attendant  upon  sudden  elevation  as  an  orator ; 
which  I  need  not  mention,  but  by  which  he  will 
never  be  overcome. 

It  would  be  invidious  and  censurable  to  lay  open 
the  secrets  of  the  future  events  of  his  life,  as  I  could 
do  by  my  art.  Sufficient  is  written  to  prove  its 
truth.     That  only  is  my  aim  in  the  present  instance. 


THE  THEORY  OF 


FORTUNATE  AND  UNFORTUNATE  DAYS, 

BY  THE  LUNAR  MOTIONS. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  the  powerful  influence 
which  the  Moon  possesses  over  the  earth  and  the  whole 
of  its  inhabitants;  this  daily  experience  proves, 
beyond  the  shadow  of  a  doubt :  for  which  reason, 
the  Moon  is  a  chief  significator  in  every  horoscope, 
or  theme  of  heaven,  and  .  as  such  the  student  must 
invariably  observe  her  aspects,  ere  he  can  obtain 
the  truth  of  the  matter.  I  shall,  probably,  give 
many  instances  thereof  in  the  course  of  these  pages; 
but,  for  the  present,  I  shall  confine  myself  to  the 
diurnal  lunar  aspects,  or  the  configurations  the 
Moon  is  perpetually  forming  with  the  remaining 


118 

seven  primary  planets,  the  Sun,  Mercury,  Venus, 
Mats,  Jupiter,  Saturn,  and  Herschel. 

The  theory  of  fortunate  and  unfortunate  days 
has,  therefore,  a  real  foundation  in  nature;  since 
those  days  only  are  considered  as  fortunate,  on 
which  the  Moon  forms  a  favourable  aspect  with  a 
fortunate  planet;  and  the  unfortunate  ones  are 
those  on  which  her  configurations  are  malignant 
and  evil. 

To  be  more  explicit :  the  best,  or  moat  fortunate 
days,  are  those  on  which  the  Moon  is  in  *,  a, 
quintile  or  &  of  Jupiter ;  the  next  in  power,  when 
she  is  in  the  like  configurations  with  Venus ;  and 
the  worst,  or  most  malignant  and  unfortunate,  are 
those  days  whereon  the  Moon  is  in  <5  >  semiquartile, 
□  or  8  of  Saturn  or  Mars;  and  next  to  those,  when 
she  is  in  □  or  8  of  Herschel ;  the  6  of  Herschel 
not  being  near  so  evil. 

Those  days,  also,  whereon  the  Moon  is  in  6 ,  o, 
semiquartile,  or  8  of  the  Sun,  are  eminently  evil. 
But  of  these,  the  <$ ,  and  next  the  o,  are  the  worst ; 
the  8  being  beneficial  in  some  cases,  such  as  where 
publicity  is  concerned,  &c. 

Again,  on  those  days  that  the  Moon  comes  to  the 
o,  semiquartile,  or  8  of  Mercury,  astrologers  ac- 
count it  unfortunate  for  business,  or  travelling,  or 
writings  and  speculations  of  any  kind.  Also,  those 
days  when  she  is  in  evil  aspect  to  Jupiter  or  Venus, 
as  the  a,  semiquartile,  or  8  are  accounted  for 
from  good ;  but  the  quartile,  in  these  cases,  acts 
worse  than  the  opposition. 

On  the  other  hand,  even  the  fortunate  aspects  of 
the  evil  planets,  as  the  *  or  a  of  Saturn,  Mars,  or 
Herschel  are  rarely  considered  as  benevolent ;  the  6  > 


119 

* ,  or  a  ,  of  Mercury  is  good  for  business ;  and  the 
like  aspects  of  the  Sun  for  affairs  connected  with 
requests,  petitions,  or  affairs  where  patronage  is 
concerned.  And  on  those  days  whereon  the  Moon 
forms  no  aspect,  but  is  void  of  course,  as  astrologers 
term  it — which  is,  when  she  in  no  aspect  whatever 
with  any  planet, — it  is  generally  accounted  that  the 
chief  or  reigning  influence  is  evil.  Seldom  does 
any  new  undertaking  prosper  or  come  to  maturity 
which  is  then  commenced. 

It  follows,  therefore,  as  a  mathematical  conse- 
quence which  should  be  well  remembered,  that 
there  is  nothing  superstitious  in  attending  to  the  choice 
tf  times  and  seasons,  since  the  celestial  configurations  do 
exist  in  the  heavens,  and  are  by  no  means  chimerical ; 
tad  he  that  rejects  them,  or  laughs  at  the  student 
who  (by  consulting  his  Ephemeris)  appoints  a  pecu- 
liar tame  when  the  heavenly  influences  are  fraught 
with  fortunate  aspects ;  might  with  equal  propriety 
make  sport  of  the  patient  who  attend*  to  the  man- 
dates of  his  physician ;  as  to  his  choice  of  the  vernal 
sunshine,  or  refreshing  breeze  of  summer,  in  prefer- 
ence to  the  dews  of  the  night;  or  the  chilling  airs 
of  the  humid  and  streaming  atmosphere :  when  he 
ventures  abroad  for  the  restoration  of  his  health. 

To  settle  at  once,  and  tet  aside  the  noisy  and 
incredulous  laugh  of  the  disbeliever  in  the  celestial 
influences,  I  will  give  one  instance  of  the  lunar 
configuration*  in  a  case  still  fresh  in  the  winds  of 
my  readers,  from  the  dreadful  scene  of  death  and 
destruction  it  caused ;  a  scene  truly  of  horror,  and 
fraught  with  dire  remembrances.  I  allude  to  the 
Royal  Brunswick  Theatre,  which  opened  with  un- 
gual splendour  on  Monday,  the  25th  of  February, 


120 

1828,  and  within  a  few  days  was  nothing  but  a  pile 
of  ruins ! 

On  the  25th  of  February,  1828,  at  noon-day,  the 
Moon  was  in  seven  degrees  thirty-six  minutes  of 
the  sign  Cancer,  and  Saturn  was  in  thirteen  degrees 
thirty-nine  minutes  of  the  same  sign.  Consequently, 
the  Moon  was  fast  hastening  to  the  malignant  con- 
junction of  that  evil  star.  The  aspect,  or  the  meet- 
ing of  those  two  planets,  took  place  at  a  quarter 
past  twelve  o'clock  that  night ;  consequently,  the 
whole  of  that  day,  during  the  opening,  the  rehearsal, 
and  the  first  performance,  the  Moon  was  terribly 
afflicted.  The  Moon  also  signifies  the  community 
at  large  (as  all  astrological  authors  teach);  and 
what  could  more  truly  depicture  the  unfortunate 
end  of  this  ill-fated  commencement,  than  the  above 
evil  configuration  ?  To  an  unprejudiced  mind,  this 
single  instance,  which  every  Almanack  or  Ephemeris 
of  the  year  can  prove,  will  be  sufficient  to  entitle 
my  theory  to  attention — and  attention  is  all  that  is 
wanting  to  prove  its  truth. 

To  calculate  the  aspects  of  the  Moon  with  the 
other  seven  planets,  the  student  should  make  use  of 
*€  White's  Ephemeris,'9  wherein  the  places  of  the 
heavenly  bodies  are  set  down  for  noon  for  each  day 
in  the  year. — The  easiest 

RULE  FOR  CALCULATING  THE  LUNAR  ASPECTS 

Is  as  follows : — First,  obtain  the  diurnal  motion  of 
each  planet  whose  conjunction  or  aspect  you  want; 
which  is  done  by  subtracting  one  day's  motion  from 
the  next;  and  if  they  are  both  direct,  or  both 
retrograde,  subtract  the  lesser  from  the  greater y  and 
use  the  difference.     But  if  one  is  direct  and  the 


121 

other  retrograde,  then  add  both  their  motions  together, 
and  make  use  of  the  sum ;  and  this  sum  or  differ- 
ence shall  be  the  true  diurnal  motion  of  the  swifter 
planet  from  the  slower. 

Next,  take  the  distance  of  the  aspect  from  noon, 
which  reserve,  and  say,  by  the  rule  of  proportion, 
as  the  diurnal  motion  of  the  swifter  planet  from  the 
slower  is  to  twenty-four  hours,  so  is  the  distance  of 
the  aspect  from  noon  to  the  true  time  of  the  con- 
junction or  aspect  required. 

EXAMPLE. 

February  25th ,  1828, — I  observe  the  d  meets 
the  6  of  i? ,  the  latter  planet  being  retrograde. 

Diurnal  motion  of  the  d 11°  51' 

Diurnal  motion  of  *  R 0°    2' 

Diurnal  motion  of  »  to  ^ 1 1°  53' 

Distance  of  the  aspect  from  noon  6°  3'. 

Now  say, 

As  11°  53*  is  to  24  hours,  so  is  6°  3'  to  12  hours 
15  minutes,  the  true  time  of  the  required  aspect, 
or  12h.  15m.  p.m. 

This  rule  will  serve  in  all  other  cases  whatever, 
and  is  of  great  importance  also  in  Nativities,  in  the 
calculation  of  the  Secondary  or  Progressive  Direc- 
tions; which,  as  I  have  demonstrated  in  my 
u  Manual  of  Astrology"  are  of  great  and  singular 
efficacy,  as  the  sceptical  reader  may  see  by  perusing 
the  pages  of  that  work. 


122 


TO     FIND     THE     CONJUNCTIONS     BY     MOORE  S 

ALMANACK. 

As  "  Moore's  Almanack"  is  so  much  made  use  of 
by  the  agriculturists  and  residents  in  the  country, 
(in  spite  of  the  feeble  and  puny  animadversions 
of  the  late  writers  in  the  "  British  Almanack/'  or 
of  the  astounding  efforts  of  the  "schoolmaster 
with  his  primer,"  as  Hairy  Brougham  has  it),  it 
may  not  be  amiss  to  give  the  rule  for  knowing 
the  conjunctions  thereby;  which  is  simply  as 
follows — by  observing  the  top  of  that  column  where 
it  is-  said,  on  such  a  day  and  at  such  an  hour, 
"Saturn  is  with  the  Moon,'9  "Mars  is  with  the 
Moon,"  and  so  on  of  the  rest.  This  being  "  with 
the  Moon,"  means  the  conjunction  of  those  planets 
with  that  luminary  ;  and,  as  the  hour  is  there  set 
down,  the  careful  agriculturist,  or  prudent  observer 
of  times,  will  easily  be  able  to  know  those  good  or 
evil  periods  by  their  favourite  almanack;  which, 
probably,  nine  out  of  ten  who  pursue  it  are  not  at 
present  aware  of.  . 

In  those  cases,  however,  there  are  two  things 
which  must  be  well  remembered,  namely,  in  the 
first  place  the  difference  between  the  clock  and  the 
Sun ;  the  clock  being  at  some  times  of  the  year 
more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  too  fast  or  too 
slow,  by  the  true  solar  motions ;  and  the  hours  and 
minutes  when  the  conjunctions  or  aspects  are  set 
down  in  the  Ephemeris  or  Almanack,  are  calculated 
by  the  Sun,  and  must  be  reduced  accordingly. 

In  the  second  pHce,  it  must  be  well  remembered, 
that  the  instant  the  aspect  is  past,  whether  it  be 
the  <5,  *,  a,  a,  or  8 ,  of  the  Moon,  with  any  other 


123 

planet,  the  influential  effect  is  declining,  and  the 
indications  thereby  are  likewise  ceased.  This  also 
renders  it  of  great  importance  to  be  correct  as  to 
time — the  neglecting  to  notice  which  has  most 
probably  caused  those  failures  which  have  led 
former  writers  to  cry  down  the  system.  For  where 
there  is  no  attention  paid  to  time,  how  can  truth  in 
the  prediction  be  expected  ? 

The  conjunction,  quartile,  and  opposition,  of  the 
Sun  and  Moon  are  also  easily  found  by  the  com- 
monest almanack ;  since 

The  conjunction  of  the  »  with  the  ©  is  the  New  Moon. 
The  opposition  of  the  D  with  the  0  is  the  Full  Moon. 
The  quartile  of  the  D  with  the  0  is  the  first  and  last 
Quarters ; 

each  of  which  is  set  down  in  time,  and  obvious  to 
the  first  glance  of  the  eye.  Nevertheless,  though 
easily  found,  they  are  times  of  the  utmost  import- 
ance to  those  who  study  or  believe  in  the  unerring 
laws  of  celestial  motions. 

"  For  fortune  at  some  hours  to  all  if  kind ; 

The  lucky  have  whole  days  which  still  they  choose ; 

11k  unlucky  have  but  hours,  and  those  they  lose." 

Drydsn. 


124 


S%*  Wtovtif  of  &pivlt$+ 


THE  DEVIL'S  BANQUET. 

A  SILESIAN  LEGEND. 

A  nobleman  in  Silesia  having  caused  a  surap- 
tuoas  entertainment  to  be  prepared  for  several  of 
his  friends,  they,  instead  of  being  punctual  to  the 
time,  according  to  promise,  alleged  divers  excuses 
for  the  necessity  they  wefe  under  of  absenting 
themselves ;  which  so  exasperated  him,  that  he 
fell  into  a  paroxysm  of  rage,  exclaiming, — "  Since 
they  have  thus  disappointed  me,  may  as  many 
devils  from  hell  come  and  eat  up  the  provisions 
those  friends  of  mine  refuse  to  partake  of!'  which 
said,  he  sallied  out  of  the  house,  and  went  to 
church  to  hear  a  sermon.  He  had  not  been  long 
gone,  when  a  numerous  company  of  horsemen,  all 
arrayed  in  black,  of  extraordinary  aspect  and  stature, 
appeared  in  his  court-yard ;  and,  alighting,  called  a 
groom  to  take  the  horses,  bidding  another  run  pre- 
sently to  his  master  and  tell  him  his  guests  were 
arrived. 

The  servant,  with  hair  erect,  and  looks  betoken- 
ing horror,  entered  the  church  where  his  master 
was,  and  acquainted  him  with  the  circumstance,  as 
well  as  his  fright  would  permit  him.  The  nobleman 
immediately  interrupted  the  sermon,  intreating  the 
preacher  to  assist  him  with  his  ghostly  counsel. 


125 

He,  with  all  his  congregation,  made  all  speed 
towards  the  mansion,  which  had  been  deserted  by 
the  servants ;  who,  in  the  hurry  of  their  flight  had 
left  behind  them  a  young  child,  their  master's  son, 
sleeping  in  the  cradle.  By  this  time,  the  devils 
were  revelling  in  the  dining-room,  making  a  great 
noise,  as  if  they  saluted  and  welcomed  each  other. 

They  looked  through  the  casements,  one  with  the 
head  of  a  bear,  another  with  that  of  a  wolf,  &c. ; 
taking  bowls  at  the  same  time,  and  quaffing,  as  if 
they  had  drank  to  the  master  of  the  house-  The 
nobleman,  who,  among  others,  was  a  witness  of 
their  revelry,  seeing  his  servants  safe,  bethought 
himself  of  his  son,  and  asked,  "  what  was  become 
of  him  ?"  The  words  had  scarcely  passed  his  lips 
when  one  of  the  devils  had  the  infant  in  his  arms, 
and  showed  it  to  him  at  the  window.  The  father, 
half  frantic  with  his  feelings,  on  seeing  his  beloved 
offspring  so  perilously  situated,  fetched  a  dcjep  sigh, 
and  turning  to  an  old  and  faithful  servant,  said, 
"  What  shall  become  of  my  boy  ?"  M  Sir,"  said 
the  trusty  domestic,  truly  affected  by  the  agony  of 
despair  he  saw  his  master  in,  "by  God's  help,  &  I 
will  enter  the  house,  and  rescue  the  babe  from  yon 
devil,  or  perish  with  him/'  u  Heaven  prosper  thy 
attempt,"  returned  his  master,  "and  strengthen 
thee  in  thy  purpose !"  He  accordingly  went,  fol- 
lowed by  the  prayers  of  ail  present ;  and,  having 
entered  a  room  adjoining  that  in  which  the  devils 
were  rioting,  he  fell  upon  his  knees  and  commended 
himself  to  the  protection  of  heaven ;  after  which, 
he  burst  in  amongst  them,  and  beheld  them  in  their 
horrible  shapes!  That  instant,  they  all  pressed 
round  him,  inquiring  what  his  business  was  there  ? 


126 

He,  under  great  terror,  though  resolved  to  fulfil  the 
intent  of  his  coming,  addressing  himself  to  the 
spirit  that  held  the  child,  said — €t  In  the  name  of 
God,  deliver  the  child  to  me !"  €€  No  !"  replied  the 
fiend,  "  let  thy  master,  who  is  more  interested  in 
him,  come."  "I  am  come,"  rejoined  the  man,  "to 
do  that  service  to  which  God  hath  called  me ;  by 
virtue  of  which,  and  by  his  power,  I  do  seize  upon 
the  innocent."  So  saying,  he  snatched  him  from 
the  devil,  and  bore  him  off,  the  spirits  clamouring 
as  he  departed — u  Knave,  knave,  leave  the  child, 
or  we  tear  thee  in  pieces !"  But  he,  undismayed 
by  their  diabolical  menaces,  effected  his  *  purpose, 
and  restored  the  boy  to  his  afflicted  father ! 

APPARITIONS  IN  TURKEY. 

It  is  the  received  opinion  of  the  Persians  and 
Turks,  that,  near  the  close  of  life,  every  person  has 
'some  sort  of  extraordinary  revelation  of  that  awful 
event ;  and  the  most  ancient  of  their  writings  prove 
it.  Herbelot  (in  his  Bibliotheque  Orientale)  relates, 
that  the  Sultan  Metandi,  as  he  rose  one  day  from 
table,  said  to  one  of  his  wives,  who  was  present, 
"  Who  are  these  people  that  are  come  in  here,  with- 
out leave?"  Upon  looking  round,  she  could  see 
none,  but  observed  that  he  grew  pale,  and  imme- 
diately fell  down  dead ! 

The  Mahomedan  writings  are  full  of  narrations, 
which  show  that  the  doctrine  of  spiritual  manifes- 
tation has  from  the  earliest  time  prevailed  amongst 
them. 


127 


AUTHENTIC  ACCOUNT  OP  AN  APPARITION  BEFOItS 

DEATH. 

The  following  extraordinary,  and  evidently  super- 
natural, occurrence,  caused  a  considerable  sensation 
in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century ;  as  the 
names  and  places  of  abode  of  the  parties  were 
made  known  at  the  time — a  circumstance  not  fre- 
quently the  case  in  ghost  stories. 

Mr.  Joseph  Glew,  a  sword-hilt  maker,  lived  with 
his  wife  (both  elderly  people)  many  years,  and  one 
female  lodger,  in  the  house  over  the  archway  in 
the  passage  to  Bear-yard,  near  the  Oratory  in  Lin- 
coln's-inn-fields ;  and,  for  the  sake  of  company, 
desired  a  nephew  of  his  by  marriage  to  come  and 
lodge  in  his  house.  Accordingly,  in  the  beginning 
of  January  1739,  the  nephew  came  to  his  uncle, 
and  spent  every  evening  with  him  and  his  wife,  in 
reading,  &c.  for  their  amusement. 

About  the  twenty-fifth  of  the  same  month,  after 
the  nephew  had  been  reading  to  his  uncle  and  aunt 
(who  were  at  that  time  in  very  good  health)  spme 
meditations  out  of  Dr.  Thomas  Coney's  "  Devout 
Soul/'  he  retired  to  his  chamber — a  large  back  room, 
up  two  pair  of  stairs;  and,  having  .fastened  the 
door,  went  to  bed,  and  fell  asleep  before  ten  o'clock. 

A  little  before  the  clock  struck  twelve,  he  was 
awakened  by  the  drawing  of  the  curtains  of  his  bed, 
and,  on  starting  up,  saw,  by  a  glimmering  light, 
resembling  that  of  the  moon,  the  spirit  of  his  uncle, 
in  the  night-gown  and  cap  he  had  on  when  he  last 
parted  with  him,  standing  on  the  right  side,  near 
the  head  of  the  bed,  holding  the  head  curtain  back 
with  his  left  hand,  and  seemed  as  if  he  was  either 


128 

going  to  strike  or  caress  him  with  his  right ;  but  the 
nephew  believed  the  latter,  as  the  face  of  the  ghost 
had  a  cheerful  look,  and  they  lived  in  the  greatest 
amity. 

At  this  instant,  Mrs.  Cooke,  an  elderly  woman 
that  lodged  in  the  fore  two  pair  of  stairs  room, 
and  who  formerly  belonged  to  Mr.  Rich's  company 
of  comedians  several  years,  came  out  of  her  apart- 
ment to  light  down  stairs  the  widow  of  the  facetious 
James  S pi  Her,  who  had  been  this  evening  to  visit 
her.  He  now  heard  the  clock,  which  was  in  his 
uncle's  apartments  underneath,  strike  twelve,  and 
tried  to  call  out  to  the  two  women  as  they  passed 
by  his  door ;  but  in  vain,  for  he  had  lost  all  power 
of  utterance.  The  spectre  kept  its  position,  and 
the  nephew  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  it ;  and,  to  be 
certain  of  his  being  actually  awake,  remembered 
hearing,  that  when  the  two  wbmen  opened  the 
street-door,  they  called  to  the  watchman,  as  he 
came  by  crying  the  hour  of  twelve,  and  agreed  to 
give  him  some  pence  to  light  Mrs.  Spiller  to  her 
lodging,  which  was  but  at  a  little  distance;  on 
which  she  went  away,  and  Mrs.  Cooke  having  again 
fastened  the  door,  was  coming  up*stairs,  when  the 
nephew  supposes  he  swooned  away ;  for,  on  coming 
again  to  the  use  of  his  reason,  he  found  himself  halt 
out  of  bed,  and  immersed  in  a  cold  and  clammy 
sweat. 

The  first  thing  he  heard,  after  he  had  recovered 
from  his  fright,  was  the  clock  striking  one!  He 
now  wrapped  himself  up  in  his  bed  clothes,  but 
closed  his  eyes  no  more  the  whole  night.  About 
eight  in  the  morning,  as  soon  as  he  heard  his  aunt 
open  the  door  of  her  apartment,  he  jumped  out  of 


129 

bed,  and  putting  on  his  apparel  with  as  much  expe- 
dition as  he  could,  hurried  down  to  his  aunt's  room, 
and  having  asked  how  his  uncle  did,  heard  he  was 
pretty  well. 

On  this,  he  told  his  aunt  what  he  had  seen,  with 
the  time  and  circumstances ;  but  she  looking  on  it 
as  chimerical,  they  called  for  Mrs.  Cooke,  who  was 
just  got  up,  and  she  confirmed  everything  he  had 
said  concerning  Mrs.  Spiller  and  the  watchman — a 
positive  proof  he  was  awake,  and  in  his  senses. 
The  aunt  now  desired  he  would  not  mention  it  to 
his  uncle,  which  he  promised  he  would  not,  but  told 
her  he  could  never  sleep  in  that  chamber  any  more, 
and  took  his  leave. 

The  same  day,  before  one  o'clock,  the  nephew 
received  a  message  from  his  aunt,  where  he  was  at 
work,  in  Fleet  Street,  desiring  him  to  come  imme- 
diately to  her.  He  accordingly  went  to  her  house, 
when  he  found  his  uncle  dead,  and  was  told  that  ho 
fell  down  in  crossing  the  room,  and  died  suddenly, 
about  three  minutes  before  twelve  o'clock  ;  exactly 
twelve  hours  from  his  ghost's  appearance  to  his 
nephew. 

This  circumstance  induced  the  young  man  to 
think  his  uncle  might  want  to  reveal  something  to 
Mm ;  and,  therefore,  he  desired  to  sit  up  with  his 
corpse  the  night  preceding  his  interment :  which 
the  aunt  agreeing  to,  he  fortified  his  mind,  and  pre* 
P&red  a  devotional  book  for  his  companion,  with 
which  he  shut  himself  up  in  the  room  with  the 
b°dy,  about  six  in  the  evening,  in  hopes  he  might 
see  the  spirit  of  his  uncle,  if  he  had  anything  to  say 
or  open  to  him ;  but,  as  nothing  occurred  during 

fourteen  hours  he  was  alone  with  the  corpse,  the 

R 


130 

following  evening  he  attended  his  funeral  to  the 
north  part  of  the  churchyard  of  St.  Giles  in  the 
Fields,  where  his  body  was  interred  ;  leaving  behind 
him  the  character  of  a  good  Christian,  a  tender 
husband,  and  a  sincere  friend ! 


MARVELLOUS  PROPERTIES  OF  HERBS, 

STONES,  ROOTS,  &c. % 


TO   SLEEP    WITHOUT   DANGER. 

' *  Whosoever  wearetb  vervain  or  dill. 
May  be  bold  to  sleep  on  every  hHL" 

The  herb  Dill  is  said  to  procure  sleep,  sound  and 
secure;  and  in  ancient  times  it  was  thus  that  gar- 
lands were  used  to  be  worn  at  riotous  feasts,  that 
thereby  they  might  not  only  sleep,  but  sleep  with- 
<  ut  danger. 

» 
SECRETS  OF  ALBERTUS  MAGNUS. 

THE  HERB  CELANDINE, 

No  less  extraordinary  is  the  property  of  the  herb 

.  celandine  ;  which,  it  is  said,  if  suspended  over  the 

head  of  a  sick  person,  will  set  him  singing  aloud  if 

he  be  likely  to  live ;  but,  if  to  die,  it  will  make 

him  weep. 

THE  HERB  PERIWINKLE. 

The  herb  periwinkle,  Albertus  Magnus  tells  us 
being  pulverized  with  earth-worms  and  sen-green, 


131 

creates  affection  between  man  and  wife,  by  putting  a 
portion  of  it  in  their  food.  A  small  quantity  of  the 
above  preparation,  with  some  sulphur,  being  thrown 
into  a  fish-pond,  will  destroy  the  fish. 

THE  HERB  HENBANE. 

The  herb  henbane,  mixed  with  wild  saffron,  and 
given  to  a  mad  dog,  kills  him  instantaneously  ;  and 
mixed  with  the  blood  of  a  leveret,  is  said  to  fasci- 
nate hares. 

THE    LILT,  ASTR0L0OICALL7  GATHERED. 

Gather  the  lily  while  the  sun  is  in  Leo  (which  is 
from  the  23d  of  July  to  the  21st  of  August),  mix  it 
with  the  juice  of  the  laurel ;  which  done,  bury  it 
for  some  time  under  dung,  and  worms  shall  be  bred 
from  it,  which  worms  being  reduced  to  a  powder, 
and  applied  to  one's  neck,  will  not  let  the  bearer 
sleep.  If  put  into  a  vessel  containing  cow's  milk, 
and  covered  with  the  hide  of  a  cow  of  one  colour, 
lt  will  dry  up  the  udders  of  the  whole  herd. 

THE  MISLETOE. 

It  is  said,  that  if  the  above  herb  be  put  into  the 
mouth  of  any  person,  and  that  he  think  of  a  certain 
thing,  it  will  dwell  upon  his  memory  if  it  be  to 
happen ;  if  not  to  happen,  it  will  escape  his  remem- 
brance entirely.  Let  it  be  suspended  from  a  tree 
with  the  wing  of  a  swallow,  and  birds  without  num- 
ber will  flock  thither. 

THE  HERB  CENTAURY. 

The  same  writer  mentions  many  wonderful  virtues 
of  the  herb  centaury ;  as,  for  instance,  if  it  be  put 


132 

into  l  lamp  with  the  blood  of  a  female  puet,  all  the 
bye-standers  will  imagine  themselves  enchanted,  in 
such  a  manner  that  it  will  appear  their  position  is 
inverted,  supposing  their  heads  to  be  where  their 
feet  are.  Again,  if  thrown  into  the  fire,  "  the  stars 
shall  seem  a  tilting  at  one  another:1'  moreover, 
when  applied  to  the  nose  of  any  one,  it  will  operate 
so  as  to  make  him  run  himself  out  of  breath  for 
fear. 

VERVAIN,  ASTROLOGICALLY  GATHERED. 

Vervain,  he  says,  has,  among  others,  a  salutary 
property.  Gather  it  when  the  sun  is  in  Aries  (from 
the  2 1st  of  March  to  the  2 1st  of  April),  and  mix  it 
with  a  grain  of  piony  of  one  year's  growth  ;  it  is  a 
specific  for  those  who  are  afflicted  with  epilepsy  or 
fits.  If  put  into  a  rich  mould,  it  will  produce 
worms  in  eight  weeks,  which  are  immediate  death 
to  whoever  touches  them.  Another  property  of  it 
is,  to  attract  pigeons,  which  it  does  surprisingly 
when  put  into  a  dove-cot. 

TO  FASCINATE  OR  CHARM  DOGS. 

The  herb  dog*s-tongue,  with  the  heart  of  a  young 
frog,  and  its  matrix,  will,  in  a  short  time,  collect  a 
multitude  of  dogs  to  wheresoever  it  is  laid.  Put 
the  same  herb  under  your  great  toe,  and  it  will 
prevent  a  dog's  barking.  Tie  it  to  a  dog's  neck, 
in  such  a  manner  that  he  cannot  get  at  it  with  bis 
teeth,  and  he  will  not  cease  wheeling  round  until 
he  fall  as  it  were  dead. 

WONDERFUL  PROPERTIES  OF  SAGE 

Sage,  being  rotted  under  dung,  and  put  under  a 


133 

glass,  will  produce  a  worm,  or  a  bird  having  a  tail 
like  a  blackbird's ;  the  blood  of  which,  if  it  touch 
a  person's  breast,  renders  the  person  so  touched 
senseless  for  a  fortnight.  Another  property  of  it 
is,  that  if  the  powder  be  put  into  a  lamp,  the 
room  in  which  it'burns  will  seem  full  of  serpents. 

PROPERTIES  OF  THE  AMETHT8T. 

The  amethyst,  which  is  of  a  purple  colour,  is 
supposed  to  prevent  drunkenness  and  inebriation, 
which  property  must  greatly  enhance  its  value, 
and  render  it  an  invaluable  acquisition  to  the  pos- 
sessor.     Our  author  also  adds,  that  it  aids  the 

nderstanding ;   as  does  likewise   the  pale  trans- 

arent  beryl. 

THE  CORAL. 

The  coral,  inheriting  a  virtue  from  that  element 
in  which  it  is  found,  is  said  to  allay  tempests,  and 
to  be  a  safeguard  to  those  who  journey  by  water. 
It  has,  moreover,  been  used  to  stop  bleeding ;  and 
is  said  to  be  of  marvellous  efficacy  for  children  to 
wear  during  their  infancy  and  the  period  of  their 
teething.  The  latter  virtue  is  also  mentioned  by 
many  writers  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

AN    ADMIRABLE   AMULET   TO    STOP    BLEEDING. 

(From  an  old  Author.) 

Take  a  toad,  and  kill  him;  then  take  three 
bricks,  put  them  into  the  fire,  and  take  out  one  of 
them,  and  put  the  toad  upon  it.  Then  take  out 
another,  and  put  him  again  upon  that ;  and  when 
the  brick  is  nearly  cold,  take  off  the  toad,  and 


134 

put  the  brick  again  into  the  fire;  then  take  the 
third  brick  and  do  so,  till  the  toad  be  consumed 
to  ashes.  Then  take  the  ashes  and  put  them  care- 
fully into  a  silk  or  taffeta  bag ;  and  when  any  one 
bleedeth,  apply  the  bag  upon  the  heart  of  the 
party,  and  it  will  instantly  stay  the  bleeding,  either 
of  the  nose  or  of  any  other  wound  whatever. 

THE  MYSTICAL  PERFUMES  OF  THE  SEVEN  PLANETS, 

(According  to  Hermes). 

h  Saturn Pepperwort. 

%  Jupiter Nutmeg. 

$  Mars Lignum  Aloes. 

©  Sol    Mastio. 

%  Venus    Saffron. 

5  Mercury    Cinnamon. 

5  Luna Myrrh. 

44  These  are  said,  by  the  old  herbalists,  to  render 
that  place  fortunate  wherein  they  are  burnt,  during 
the  right  planetary  hour." — Key  to  Agrippa. 


& 


135 


Qfyt  Wlitii)  of  <£#* 


AN  HISTORICAL  OCCURRENCE  IN  THE 
REIGN  OF  HENRY  THE  SIXTH. 


"  Truth  is  strange- 
Stranger  than  fiction." 


"Fear  me  not,  fear  me  not,  good  Sir  John :  the 
stout  heart  of  Eleanor  Cobham  will  not  fail  her ; 
albeit  that  as  yet  I  do  not  choose  to  be  present  at 
these  orgies.  How  say  est  thou,  Margaret  Jourdmain 
is  there,  and  assisted  by  Roger  Bolinbroke?" 

The  person  by  whom'  this  question  was  asked 
was  a  female;  who,  although  somewhat  declined 
into  the  vale  of  years,  was  still  remarkable  for  her 
stately  and  majestic  gait,  and  the  symmetry  and 
beauty  of  her  features.  Her  stature  seemed  to  be 
above  six  feet;  her  long,  flowing,  and  once  jet 
black,  but  now  grey,  tresses,  fell  in  rich  ringlets 
down  her  back ;  and  her  high,  pale  forehead  was 
singularly  contrasted  with  her  dark  and  fiery  eye. 
Her  rank  and  wealth  were  sufficiently  indicated  by 
the  splendour  of  her  dress.  She  wore  a  long  flow- 
ing robe  of  silk ;  her  hair  was  plaited  with  jewels, 
whence  pendant  drops,  composed  of  precious  stones 
of  great  value  and  size,  hung  upon  her  forehead ; 
and  a  collar  of  gold,  from  which  hung  a  chain  of 
the  same  costly  material,  was  fastened  round  her 


136 

neck.  She  sat  in  a  massive  oaken  chair,  curiously 
carved,  and  placed  in  the  midst  of  a  large  Gothic 
chamber,  through  whose  windows  the  moonbeams 
poured  a  flood  of  many-coloured  light,  as  they  took 
the  tinge  of  the  painted  glass  through  which  they 
streamed . 

The  walls  of  the  apartment  were  hung  with  rich 
tapestry,  and  the  floor  was  strewed  with  rushes. 
A  large  silver  candelabra,  bearing  lighted  waxen 
tapers,  descended  from  the  ceiling  and  illuminated 
the  whole  apartment.  A  small  table,  of  similar 
workmanship  to  the  chair  in  which  she  sat,  stood 
before  the  lady,  and  on  it  was  spread,  wide  open,  a 
large  parchment  volume,  in  the  perusal  of  which 
she  appeared  to  have  been  very  recently  occupied. 

Opposite  to  her  stood  a  man,  whose  shaven 
crown,  the  beads  and  cross  dependent  from  his 
neck,  his  white  cassock,  and  his  narrow  scapulary, 
proclaimed  him  to  be  a  monk  wf  the  Cistercian 
order.  He  was  a  short  and  meagre  figure,  with 
small  red  eyes,  a  sharp  aquiline  nose,  black  beard 
and  brows,  and  an  extraordinarily  intelligent,  but  at 
the  same  time  somewhat  repulsive  and  malignant, 
expression  of  countenance. 

"  They  have  been  busily  engaged,  madam,'*  he 
said,  in  answer  to  the  lady's  question,  ''in  your 
Grace's  service,  since  the  hour  of  noon.  At  that 
hour  the  waxen  image  was  completed,  and  the  fatal 
fire  was  lighted ;  and  from  that  hour  did  Henry, 
marrow,  bones,  and  all,  begin  to  waste  and  wither 
away ;  and  shall  continue  so  to  do,  until  the  throne  of 
England  shall  be  left  vacant  for  a  worthier  occupant." 

11  Thanks,  good  Sir  John,"  said  the  lady,  un- 
clasping the  collar  of  gold  round  her  neck,  and 


J37 

placing  it,  with  the  chain  attached  to  it,  in  the 
priest's  hands ;  "A  thousand  thanks !  Do  I  not 
well,  Sir  John  ?  Heaven  knows  that  it  is  not  for 
the  sake  of  gratifying  any  ambitious  thoughts  of 
my  own  that  I  enter  upon  this  seemingly  unhal 
lowed  work ;  but  in  compassion  of  the  miseries 
which  the  unhappy  people  of  England  endure  under 
the  sway  of  the  feeble  and  incapable  Henry,  who 
is  the  unresisting  instrument  of  all  their  ill,  in  the 
bands  of  that  she-wolf  of  France,  and  this  newly- 
created  Duke  of  York,  Richard  Plantagenet." 

"  Your  Grace  is  but  to  blame,"  said  the  obse- 
quious priest,  "  for  having  so  long  delayed  to  avail 
yourself  of  that  knowledge,  and  those  arts,  into  the 
mysteries  of  which  your  poor  servant  has  been  the 
unworthy  means  of  initiating  you,  for  the  purpose 
of  putting  an  end  to  the  evils  with  which  our 
country  is  overwhelmed.  How  will  the  loyal  heart 
of  your  servant'Hume  rejoice,  when  he  hears  the 
welcome  shouts  of  'God  save  King  Humphrey!' 
' God  save  Queen  Eleanor  V  " 

"  Peace,  peace,  gooa  Hume !"  said  the  lady ; 
"  thou  talkest  idly/'  But  a  smile  of  hope  brightened 
her  features  at  the  same  time,  and  belied  the  expres- 
sion of  her  lips.  "  Heaven  knows  that  there  is  no 
one  in  this  realm  would  pray  more  fervently  for  the 
welfare  of  Henry  of  Lancaster  than  Eleanor  Cob- 
ham  ;  but  that,  while  he  lives,  England  must  lie  at 
the  mercy  of  Margaret  of  Anjou,  and  Richard  of 
Plantagenet.  Yet,  Hume,  1  would  fain  receive 
some  more  certain  assurance  as  to  my  future 
destiny.  When  wilt  thou  invoke  to  my  presence 
the  spirit  who  is  to  answer  such  questions  as  I  shall 
propound  ?" 

8 


138 

'•  Madam,"  answered  Hume,  t€  it  is  by  severe 
and  painful  penance,  anxious  watching,  and  long 
fasting,  alone,  that  I  can  prevail  upon  that  invisible 
power  whom  I  serve,  to  gratify  your  (Grace's  desire. 
Neither  can  Margaret  Jourdmain  nor  Roger  Bolin- 
broke  assist  me;  for  they  have  not  attained  such 
proficiency  in  the  occult  sciences  as  to  be  able  to 
command  spirits  to  do  their  bidding.  Time,  a  short 
but  carefully  spent  time,  will  empower  me  to  call 
one  before  you  who  shall  reveal  to  your  Grace  the 
secrets  of  futurity." 

Had  the  Duchess  at  that  moment  fixed  her  eye 
upon  her  chaplain,  she  would  have  detected,  in  his 
changing  colour  and  trembling  limbs,  the  hypocrite 
and  the  impostor.  Whatever  might  have  been  the 
reality  of  the  pretensions  to  occult"  lore  on  the  part 
of  Jourdmain  and  Bolinbroke,  the  only  magic  of 
which  Hume  was  master,  was  the  ascendancy  of  a 
strong  mind  over  a  weak  one.  The  Duchess  knew 
him  to  be  a  man  of  vast  and  various  learning  and 
acquirements  ;  and  had  been  initiated  by  him  into 
the  study  of  languages,  and  of  the  natural  sciences. 
She  therefore  readily  credited  his  pretensions  to 
knowledge  of  a  more  profound  and  mysterious  cha- 
racter ;  and  he,  by  flattering  her  ambitious  hopes, 
and  pretending  to  minister  to  their  gratification, 
continued  to  store  his  own  purse  at  her  expense, 
and  to  indulge  himself  in  such  pleasures  as  his 
straitened  means,  and  not  his  sacerdotal  oath,  alone 
debarred  him  from.  He  had  accordingly  promised 
to  raise  a  spirit  who  should  reveal  her  future  destiny 
to  her,  being  deficient  in  the  science  of  Astrology 
(which  was  then,  as  it  is  now,  the  only  lawful  means 
made  use  of  for  decyphering  futurity,  without  the 


139 

imputation  of  crime).  He  had,  for  this  purpose, 
hired  two  professors  of  the  black  art,  or  witchcraft, 
to  construct  a  waxen  image  of  the  King,  who,  they 
pretended,  would  waste  away  under  the  influence 
of  a  strange  disease,  as  that  image  melted  before  a 
fire  which  they  had  kindled.  Hume  knew  his  own 
pretensions  to  occult  knowledge  to  be  unfounded, 
and  believed  those  of  his  associates  to  be  the  same. 
The  death  of  the  King,  and  the  elevation  of  dame 
Eleanor,  were  not  the  objects  which  the  crafty 
priest  had  in  view ;  but  the  multiplication  of  his 
own  wealth  and  pleasures,  by  means  of  the.  well- 
stored  pprse  of  the  Duchess  of  Gloucester. 

"  Hume !"  said  the  lady,  "  hasten  the  period  at 
which  my  desires  may  be  gratified.  In  the  mean 
time,  receive  my  thanks  for  the  services  which  thou 
hast  already  rendered  me.  But,  give  us  leave 
awhile,  good  Sir  John ;  my  Lord  approaches/' 

The  priest  made  a  lowly  reverence,  and  left  the 
apartment,  almost  at  the  same  moment  that  the 
Duke  of  Gloucester  entered.  This  was  the  son  of 
King  Henry  the  Fourth,  who,  by  his  virtues,  had 
acquired  the  appellation  of  "  the  good  Duke 
Humphrey/'  He  entered  with  a  hurried  and  agi- 
tated step:  his  face  was  pale;  his  lip  quivered; 
and  his  eye  rolled  wildly  and  fearfully. 

"  My  gracious  Lord,"  said  the  Duchess,  "  what 
has  happened  ?  I  fear  some  strange  and  unlooked 
for  misfortune." 

"  Eleanor/'  said  the  Duke,  "  the  young  King  is 
taken  suddenly  and  dangerously  ill.  His  physicians 
can  neither  divine  the  nature  of  his  malady,  nor 
devise  any  cure.'1 

"Ha!"  said  the  Duchess;   her  eyes  sparkling, 


140 

t 

and  her  cheek  glowing  as  she  spoke; — €t suddenly, 
Duke  Humphrey,  sayest  thou,  that  the  King  was 
thus  attacked  ?    And  at  what  hour,  I  pray  thee  ?" 

"At  the  hour  of  noon ;"  answered  the  Duke. 

"At  noon — at  noon!"  repeated  the  Duchess  to 
herself,  clasping  her  hands,  and  pacing  the  apart- 
ment in  a  state  of  mental  abstraction.  "  It  was  at 
that  hour,  as  Hume  informed  me,  that  the  wise 
woman's  labours  were  completed.  Humphrey,"  she 
added,  turning  towards  the  Duke,  "  the  King  will 
die/' 

"Now  heaven  forefend !"  replied  Duke  Humphrey ; 
u  so  young — so  good — so  pious  !" 

"  The  fitter  for  heaven !"  interrupted  the  Duchess. 
"  For  this  world,  and  especially  for  the  station  he 
fills,  he  is,  of  all  men,  most  unfit.  The  monk's 
cloister,  or  the  hermit's  cell,  indeed,  might  have 
found  in  him  a  fitting  occupant ;  but  the  throne  of 
France  and  England  suits  him  not ;  and  the  sceptre 
of  Henry  the  Fifth  is  -not  adapted  to  his  puny 
grasp." 

"Alas,  alas!"  said  the  Duke  of  Gloucester ;  "he 
will  neither  fill  the  one  nor  grasp  the  other  long." 

"  The  will  of  heaven  must  be  submitted  to,"  said 
Eleanor ;  "  and  the  people  of  England,  when  they 
are  obliged  to  exchange  King  Henry  for  King 
Humphrey,  must  learn  to  yield  in  patience  to  so 
fearful  a  visitation." 

"  Now,  by  heaven,  Nell !"  said  the  Duke ;  and 
an  expression  of  indignation  and  anger  succeeded 
that  of  deep  distress  which  had  clouded  his  fine 
features — "  thou  maddest  me.  Is  ours  an  age  at 
which  to  nurse  the  idle  dreams  of  ambition  ?  and  is 
the  malady  of  a  young  and  virtuous   prince,  like 


141 

Henry,  a  fitting  subject  of  exultation  to  his  nearest 
relatives  ?  I  fear,  Eleanor,  that  pride  and  ambition 
have  dried  up  the  milk  of  human  charity  in  thy 
bosom.  I  fear,  too," — here  he  spoke  in  a  low  and 
stifled  tone,  while  cold  big  drops  stood  upon  his 
temples, — "that  thou  pursuest  unholy  and  unlawful 
studies.  Beware !  Eleanor  Cobham,  beware !  —the 
public  suspicion  is  awakened  against  thee;  the 
Queen  loves  thee  not;  the  Duke  of  York  thirsts 
for  thy  blood ;  and  Humphrey  of  Gloucester's 
power  to  defend  and  protect  thee  is  becoming 
smaller  and  weaker  with  each  waning  moon." 

The  consciousness  of  her  guilt,  and  the  abrupt- 
ness and  suddenness  of  the  accusation,  struck  the 
Duchess  of  Gloucester  mute;  while  her  cheek 
changed  from  a  fiery  red  to  an  ashy  paleness,  her 
breath  came  short  and  thick,  and  her  limbs  trembled 
under  her.  "Humphrey,"  she  at  length  said,  as 
with  a  violent  effort  she  recovered  her  self-posses- 
sion, drew  her  stately  figure  up  to  its  utmost  height, 
and  laid  her  hand  upon  the  arm  of  the  Duke ;  "  this 
is  cruel  and  unkind ;  and,  from  thee,  most  un- 
expected. Because  I  have  devoted  myself  to 
study,  the  ignorant  vulgar  have  charged  me  with 
the  practice  of  magic ;  and  the  malignity  of  those, 
my  foes,  whose  superior  education  and  station  pre- 
vent them  from  being  themselves  the  dupe  of  so 
idle  an  accusation,  has  nevertheless  given  sanction 
and  confirmation  to  it;  but,  that  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester, — the  most  accomplished  and  learned 
prince  in  Christendom,  in  whose  well-stored  library 
I  have  acquired  that  knowledge  which  is  now 
imputed  to  me  as  a  crime, — that  he  should  join  in 
the  senseless  outcry  of  the  vulgar  and  malignant,  is  a 


142 

calamity  against  the  occurrence  of  which  I  confess 
that  I  was  not  sufficiently  prepared.  Go!  Duke 
Humphrey;  denounce  me  to  the  King!  offer  up 
your  wife  as  an  expiatory  sacrifice  to  the  wrath  of 
Margaret  of  Anj on,  and  Richard  Plantagenet!  Suf- 
folk will  smile  upon  you — your  good  uncle  Beaufort 
will  once  more  admit  you  to  his  paternal  embrace ; 
and  rare  and  jocund  will  be  the  dance  and  the  was- 
sailing over  the  grave  of  Eleanor  Cobham." 

Thus  saying,  she  rushed  out  of  the  apartment, 
leaving  the  Duke,  over  whose  feelings  she  well 
knew  the  extent  of  her  influence,  penetrated  with 
uneasiness  and  sorrow  at  having  given  her  pain  or 
offence ;  although  he  could  not  entirely  banish  from 
his  mind  the  suspicions  which  had  been  awakened 
in  it. 

To  the  wonder  and  joy  of  the  Duchess,  and  the 
consternation  of  Hume,  day  after  day  brought  news 
to  the  Duke  of  Gloucester's  palace  of  the  increasing 
malady  of  the  King,  and  of  the  inutility  of  every 
effort  which  had  been  made  to  stop  its  fatal  progress. 
The  chaplain,  who  had  believed  that  the  associates 
whom  he  had  engaged  to  assist  him  in  his  attack  on 
the  Duchess's  purse  were  no  more  able  to  effect  the 
Kings  death  by  magic  than  he  was  to  raise  a  spirit, 
began  to  fear  that  their  diabolical  learning  was  no 
vain  pretension — so  strangely  coincident  was  the 
progress  of  the  King's  disease  with  the  work  on 
which  the  Witch  of  Eye  and  Bolinbroke  were 
engaged. 

Dissolute  and  avaricious  as  he  was,  his  heart  sunk 
within  him  at  the  idea  of  being  an  accomplice  in 
the  murder  of  his  sovereign,  especially  by  such 
means.     Remorse  for  his  crime  was  also  mingled 


r 


143 

with  no  small  portion  of  fear  as  to  its  consequences 
to  himself;  for  it  was  by  no  means  certain,  that 
amidst  the  contentions  of  parties  which  would  neces- 
sarily follow  the  death  of  the  King.,  his  patroness 
would  rule  the  ascendant.  To  add  to  his  perplexity, 
Eleanor  had  become  importunate  with  him  to  raise 
the  spirit  who,  he  had  promised,  should  reveal  to 
her  her  future  destiny;  and,  on  his  repeated  excuses 
and  postponements,  had  rated  him  in  terms  which 
his  wounded  pride  could  ill  brook.  Moodily  and 
dejectedly  pondering  over  these  circumstances, 
Hume  was  pacing  the  great  hall  of  the  ducal 
paalce.  He  had  just  received  an  intimation  from 
Bolinbroke,  that  their  work  was  proceeding  most 
auspiciously ;  that  in  less  than  twelve  hours  the 
waxen  image  would  entirely  melt  away ;  and  that 
within  that  time,  therefore,  King  Henry  must  sink 
under  the  influence  of  his  disease. 

"Save  me!  save  me,  gracious  heaven!"  he  ex- 
claimed; "wherefore  have  I  sold  myself,  body  and 
soul,  to  this  diabolical  confederacy  ?  I  will  break 
the  hellish  trammels  in  which  I  am  bound.  I  will 
hasten  to  the  Duke  of  York,  reveal  all,  and  while 
there  is  yet  time,  save  the  King  from  the  machina- 
tions of  his  enemies.  And  yet,"  he  added,  after  a 
short  pause,  this  is  but  an  idle  fear  by  which  I  am 
suffering  myself  to  be  unmanned.  Strange  as  it  is 
that  the  King's  illness  should  happen  at  tne  same 
time  that  these  idle  mummeries  are  practising,  it 
does  not  therefore  follow  that  it  is  caused  by  them ; 
neither  do  I  yet  know  that  any  symptoms  have 
to-day  appeared  to  render  the  near  approach  of 
death  probable." 

At  that  moment  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  with 


144 

several  attendants,  passed  through  the  hall.  As 
he  passed  Hume,  the  priest  made  a  lowly  reverence. 
"  To  your  prayers,  to  your  prayers,  good  Sir  John," 
said  the  Duke ;  "  pray  for  our  pious  King*  whose 
mortal  career  is  fast  drawing  to  its  close." 

'•I  trust,"  said  Hume,  crossing  himself,  "that 
his  Highness  will  yet  live  many  years  to  rule  over 
a  happy  and  loyal  people/' 

"That  hope  is  vain,  Hume,"  said  the  Duke.  "  I 
have  just  received  a  message  from  Queen  Margaret, 
commanding  my  immediate  attendance;  and  in- 
forming me,  that  the  King  has  not  twelve  hours'  life  in 
him.  Fare  thee  well,  reverend  father!  and  forget 
not  to  pray  for  good  King  Henry's  soul." 

Hume  gazed  on  the  Duke  without  answering  him., 
astounded  and  dismayed.  "Twelve  hours!"  he 
exclaimed,  after  Humphrey  and  his  followers  had 
disappeared.  "  It  is  the  very  period  which  Bolin- 
broke  mentioned,  as  that  at  which  his  hellish  pur- 
pose would  be  achieved.  I  will  wash  my  hands  of 
this  unhallowed  deed.  The  Duke  of  York  shall 
know  the  fiend-like  purpose  of  the  Duchess.  Yet 
would  I  not  willingly  lead  to  destruction  the  woman 
to  whom  I  owe  my  rank  and  fortune.  I  would  not 
lead  to  the  scaffold  or  to  the  stake " 

At  that  moment  he  felt  his  arm  wrung  forcibly, 
and,  turning  round,  beheld  the  very  person  who 
principally  occupied  his  thoughts,  standing  before 
him.  There  was  an  unusual  flush  on  the  cheek  of 
the  Duchess  ;  her  eye  seemed  to  flash  fire,  and  her 
stately  form  appeared  to  dilate  to  still  more  majestic 
proportions.  She  looked  as  though  she  already 
grasped  the  sceptre  of  France  and  England,  and 
wore  the  regal  diadem  upon  her  brow. 


H5 


4t  So  moody  and  contemplative,  Sir  John  Hume?* 
she  said ;  "  and  at  the  hour  when  all  our  labours 
are  about  to  be  crowned  with  success  ?" 

"  I  understand  your  Grace's  meaning/'  said  the 
priest :  •*  the  King  is  dying  ?" 

"Even  so"  said  the  Duchess;  "thanks  to  thv 
powerful  arts !" 

Hume  shuddered;  and,  lifting  his  sleeve  to  his 
brow,  wiped  away  the  drops  which  had  started 
there.  €t  Gracious  madam,  say  not  so !"  he  ex- 
claimed. "  I  trust  that  his  Highness  will  yet — will 
at  least  for  a  time ; — pardon  me,  pardon  me !  I 
know  not  what  I  say ;  yet,  were  it  not  well  that 
these  proceedings  should  be  stayed  for  a  time  ? 
The  King's  disorder  may  be  natural;  and  then " 

"Peace,  peace !•  said  Eleanor;  thou  talkest 
childishly.  It  was  the  will  of  fate  that  Margaret  of 
Anjou's  crown  should  be  transferred  to  these  brows 
of  mine.  But,  Hume,"  she  added,  in  a  determined 
and  somewhat  angry  tone,  "  I  must  see  and  con- 
verse with  this  spirit  immediately.  I  will  not  be 
delayed  longer ;  and  if  thy  art  cannot  raise  him,  I 
must  seek  the  aid  of  others  who  are  greater  profit 
dents." 

"  Not  yet,  gracious  madam,  not  yet,"  said  Hume : 
and  I  pray  thee  again  consider  whether  we  are  not 
somewhat  too  sudden  in  our  machinations  for  the 
death  of  the  King.  Command  the  Witch  of  Eye 
and  Bolinbroke  to  suspend  their  operations  for  the 
present.  If  the  King's  illness  is  so  speedily  fal- 
lowed by  death,  the  public  will  suspect ''  • 

"Peace,  man!"  said  the  Duchess,  whose  naughty 
and  imperious  temper  for  a  moment  got  the  better 
of  her  discretion,  and  smiting  the  priest  violently 

T 


MO 

on  his  cheek — €t  peace,  doting  prattler!  counsel  ine 
not,  but  obey  me.  Raise  me  the  spirit,  or  by 
Heaven " 

At  that  moment  the  Duchess's  eye  caught 
the  expression  of  Hume's  features,  and  she  was 
startled  and  awed  at  the  mingled  malignity,  con- 
tempt, and  triumph,  which  she  read  there.  Eleanor 
Cobham,  although  noted  for  the  violence  and  impe- 
tuosity of  her  passions,  was  equally  remarkable 
for  the  swiftness  and  adroitness  with  which  she 
could  master  and  disguise  them.  In  an  instant,  the 
flush  of  anger  passed  from  her  face,  her  lip  curled 
with  a  smile,  and  her  whole  countenance  seemed 
lighted  up  with  gaiety. 

"  Why,  Hume,  man/'  she  said,  "  thou  lookest  as 
if  thou  believedst  us  in  earnest  offended,  and 
forgetful  of  the  services  which  our  good  chaplain 
has  performed  on  our  behalf.  But  in  truth,  Sir 
John,  I  must  converse  with  this  spirit.  Gratify  the 
wish  of  thy  Duchess n 

"  Of  my  Queen !"  said  Hume,  sinking  on  his 
knee,  and  taking  the  opportunity  of  his  prostration 
to  mask  his  features  in  an  expression  of  becoming 
reverence  and  humility. 

"Whether  Duchess  or  Queen,"  said  the  lady, 
"  the  reward  bestowed  by  Eleanor  Cobham  on  those 
who  obey  her  will  shall  be  princely.* 

€€  Your  Grace's  will,"  said  Hume,  "  is  your  lowly 
servant's  law.  This  night,  if  it  so  please  ye,  your 
wish  shall  be  gratified." 

"  Ha !"  said  the  Duchess  ;  "  at  what  hour  ?" 

"At  the  hour  of  eleven,  which  is  just  one  hour 
before  the  charm  which  is  to  work  King  Henry's 
death  will  be  complete,  will  I  conduct  you  to  my 


147 

apartment,  where  the  Witch  of  Eye  and  Bolinbroke 
are  busily  at  work.  There  you  shall  see  and  hear 
the  spirit  which  will  reveal  to  you  your  future 
destiny/' 

"I  will  not  fail  thee,  good  Sir  John/'  said 
Eleanor,  thrusting  a  purse  into  his  hand.  "  At  the 
hour  of  eleven  thou  shalt  find  we  are  ready  to 
accompany  thee/'  Thus  saying,  and  waving  her 
hand  to  the  priest,  she  hurried  from  his  presence. 

"And  at  the  hour  of  eleven,  proud  Eleanor 
Cobham,"  said  Hume,  following  her  slowly  with 
his  eye  till  she  disappeared  from  the  hall,  "  I  will 
raise  thee  such  a  spirit  as  thou  wouldst  give  the 
wealth  of  England  to  lay.  There  needed  but  this," 
he  added,  while  his  features  assumed  an  expression 
of  demoniacal  ferocity — "  there  needed  but  this 
dishonest  blow  to  wind  my  spirit  to  its  purpose." — 
He  paused  a  moment;  but,  in  that  moment,  his 
flashing  eye,  his  changing  brow,  and  his  heaving 
breast,  seemed  to  indicate  thoughts  sufficient  to 
occupy  his  mind  for  a  century.  At  length,  wrap- 
ping his  cloak  closely  round  him,  drawing  his  cowl 
over  his  brow,  and  exclaiming,  "  I  have  it !  I  have 
it  I"  he  rushed  out  of  the  hall. 

This  conversation  took  place  at  about  the  hour  of 
noon ;  and  the  bell  had  just  tolled  the  eleventh 
hour,  when  the  Duchess  of  Gloucester,  leaning  on 
the  arm  of  Hume,  entered  the  chamber  in  which 
her  emissaries  were  performing,  or  pretending  to 
perform,  their  wicked  ceremonies. 

It  was  a  lofty  and  spacious  apartment,  which  the 
Duke  of  Gloucester  had  specially  appropriated  to 
the  use  of  the  chaplain,  and  which  was  held  sacred 
from  the  intrusion  of  every  other  person.     Here* 


148 

therefore,  Hume  had  an  opportunity  of  pursuing, 
without  interruption  or  discovery,  his  studies  in 
those  occult  sciences  to  which  he  had  devoted  him* 
self.  The  Duchess  started  as  she  entered ;  for  the 
pale  lurid  flame  by  which  alone  the  chamber  was 
illuminated,  cast  a  fearful  and  preternatural  light 
over  every  object  on  which  it  glanced.  Eleanor, 
however,  soon  suppressed  the  feeling  of  fear  by 
which  she  had  at  first  been  overpowered,  and 
advanced  into  the  apartment. 

The  fire  from  which  this  ghastly  and  melancholy 
light  proceeded,  glowed  on  the  hearth,  at  the  eastern 
end  of  the  room.  Over  it  cowered  two  figures, 
whose  squalid  dresses,  misshapen  forms,  and  wan 
and  emaciated  features,  were  in  fearful  unison  with 
the  whole  scene.  One  was  a  woman,  bent  nearly 
double  with  age  and  infirmity ;  a  very  few  tufts,  or 
patches,  of  white  hair  were  upon  her  head ;  but 
the  scantiness  of  hair  there  was  compensated  by 
the  profusion  with  which  it  grew  above  her  lip  and 
chin.  Her  cheek  was  sunken  and  hollow,  her  lips 
dry  and  withered,  and,  as  they  moved  up  and  down, 
while  she  seemed  to  be  mumbling  some  diabolical 
prayer  or  incantation,  they  showed  that  the  hag 
could  not  boast  of  the  possession  of  a  single  tooth. 
Her  right  hand  rested  on  a  stick,  while  her  left  was 
elevated,  and  moved  to  and  fro  in  accompaniment 
to  the  spell  which  she  was  muttering.  Her  com- 
panion was  a  lean  and  shrivelled  old  man,  whose 
grey  beard  swept  his  breast,  and  who,  with  a  large 
volume  in  his  hand,  which  he  was  attentively 
perusing,  knelt  by  the  fire,  and  seemed  to  be  exa- 
mining, by  his  book,  the  accuracy  of  the  lesson 
which  the  old  woman  was  repeating. 


140 

The  Duchess,  bold  of  heart  as  she  was,  could 
not  help  shuddering,  and  clasped  more  firmly  the 
arm  of  Hume,  as  she  gazed  upon  these  two  fearful 
beings ;  especially  as  she  perceived,  that  although. 
they  stood  in  the  full  blaze  of  the  fire,  their  figures 
cast  no  shadow  on  the  floor  of  the  apartment* 
But  an  object  of  still  more  intense  interest  to  her, 
soon  diverted  her  gaze  another  way. 

At  the  opposite  end  of  the  apartment  stood  a 
large  waxen  image,  which  needed  not  the  crown 
upon  its  head,  or  the  sceptre  in  its  hand,  to  tell  her 
that  it  was  intended  to  represent  King  Henry ;  so 
perfect  and  faithful  a  portraiture  did  it  present  of 
that  monarch.  For  nearly  a  month  had  this  image 
been  stationed  opposite  the  fire  which  we  have 
described,  and  which  had  been  kept  incessantly 
burning,  night  and  day. 

During  that  time,  the  figure  had  melted  and 
wasted  beneath  the  influence  of  the  heat ;  and  it 
now  presented  the  appearance  of  a  man  emaciated 
by  illness,  and  fast  sinking  into  the  grave.  The 
Duchess,  who  had  on  the  previous  day  seen  the 
King,  gave  a  smile  of  grim  delight,  as  she  saw  the 
evidence  of  the  success  of  her  magical  practices 
before  her.  The  most  intense  silence  reigned  in 
the  apartment,  interrupted  only  by  the  low  faint 
mumbling  of  the  .hag,  and  the  crackling  of  the 
faggots  in  the  blaze.  -  The  Duchess,  however,  soon 
broke  this  portentous  silence,  by  advancing  towards 
the  fire,  and  saying  to  the  unearthly-looking  beings 
who  stood  beside  it— "Rare  artists  1  accept  the 
thanks  of  Eleanor  Gobham ;  and  doubt  not,  as  soon 
as  the  work  is  accomplished,  that  your  recompense 
shall  be  far  more  substantial/9 


150 

The  people  whom  she  addressed,  were  Margaret 
Jourdain,  or  Jourdmain,  who  was  better  known  as 
"the  Witch  of  Eye,"  from  the  place  of  her  birth; 
pnd  Roger  Bolinbroke,  who  was,  like  Hume,  a 
priest,  but  had  devoted  his  learning  and  talents  to 
the  study  of  sorcery.  These  persons  had  long  been 
employed  by  Hume,  and  paid  him  the  utmost 
respect  and  deference ;  not  only  on  account  of  the 
liberal  gifts  by  which  he  repaid  their  services,  but 
because  they  believed  him  to  be  a  greater  proficient 
in  the  arts  of  magic  than  themselves,  and  to  be  able 
even  to  raise  spirits — a  degree  of  proficiency  in 
those  diabolical  arts  to  which  they  did  not  pretend. 
They  answered  the  address  of  the  Duchess  by 
directing  their  eyes  slowly  towards  her,  making 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  not  upon  their  foreheads, 
but  their  backs,  and  then  sinking  upon  their 
knees  before  her,  exclaiming,  "  God  save  Queen 
Eleanor!" 

"Thanks,  gentle  friends;  thanks  for  your  un- 
shaken loyalty  and  unremitting  services !"  said  the 
Duchess.  "But  tell  me,  I  pray  ye,  when  the  work 
shall  be  accomplished  ?" 

"  When  the  belly'  said  the  witch,  in  a  discordant 
tone,  or  rather  shriek,  "  shall  have  tolled  the  midnight 
hour  r 

At  that  moment  the  bell  of  the  ducal  palace 
drowned  all  other  sounds,  by  tolling  heavily  and 
solemnly  the  first  quarter  after  the  hour  of  eleven. 

"Ha!  sayest  thou  so?"  said  the  Duchess;  and 
as  the  lurid  blaze  brightened  her  features,  it  showed 
them  still  more  brightened  by  the  hope  of  approach- 
ing grandeur  and  sovereignty . 

"Even  so,"  said  the  hag;    "then  will  yonder 


151 

image  sink  to  the  ground,  destroyed  and  dissolved 
in  that  flame ;  and  then  will  the  spirit  of  Henry  of 
Windsor  melt  beneath  the  influence  of  his  disease ;  dis- 
solve, and  mingle  with  the  elements." 

"  Then  look  to  it,  Margaret  of  Anjou !  look  to  if, 
Richard  Plantaganet !"  said  the  Duchess ;  "  for 
Eleanor  Cobham  has  been  injured,  and  will  be 
revenged.  But  still  I  am  troubled;  doubt  and  un- 
certainty yet  hang  over  my  future  fate.  Henry  may 
cease  to  be  King,  and  yet  Eleanor  not  become 
Queen.  These  signs  and  symbols  may  be  delusions. 
Hume,  I  claim  the  performance  of  thy  promise. 
Call  up  a  spirit  who  shall  make  answer  to  such 
questions  as  1  shall  propound." 

"  Your  Grace,"  said  Hume,  "  shall  be  obeyed  ; 
yet,  pardon  me,  but  I  fear  your  courage  may  fail/9 

"  Nay,  nay,  dotard !"  said  the  Duchess,  impa- 
tiently ;  "  I  mean,"  she  added,  eager  to  retract 
the  offensive  epithet,  "  my  good  Sir  John — fear  not 
my  courage ;  I  have  gone  too  far  to  recede." 

The  chaplain  then  bowed  reverentially,  and, 
drawing  a  white  wand  from  beneath  his  cloak, 
advanced  into  the  midst  of  the  apartment.  With 
this  wand  he  described  a  circle  on  the  floor,  which 
he  perambulated  three  times,  pouring  from  a  phial 
which  he  held  in.  his  hand  a  blood-red  liquor,  and 
chanting,  in  a  low  and  solemn  tone,  something 
which  appeared  to  be  a  metrical  composition,  but 
was  in  a  language  unintelligible  to  the  Duchess. 
He  then  threw  himself  on  the  floor,  and  re- 
mained in  a  posture  apparently  of  adoration,  and 
groaning  bitterly  for  several  minutes  ;  then,  starting 
up,  he  rushed  towards  the  fire,  seized  the  volume 
which  Bolinbroke  held  in  his  hand,  and,  returning 


152 

to  the  circle,  began  to  read  loudly  and  rapidly  from 
it ;  but  still  in  a  language  which  the  Duchess  did 
not  understand. 

At  length  he  closed  the  volume,  bowed  reverently 
three  times,  and  retreated  backwards  out  of  the 
circle.  At  that  moment,  the  bell  tolled  the  second 
quarter  after  eleven.  A  noise  like  the  sound  of 
distant  thunder  was  heard,  the  floor  of  the  apart- 
ment opened,  and  a  figure  which  could  not  be 
distinctly  seen,  but  appeared  to  be  tall,  and 
wrapped  in  a  black  mantle,  stood  before  them. 

A  shriek  burst  from  the  lips  of  the  Duchess,  and 
even  from  those  of  Bolinbroke  and  the  Witch. 
"  For  the  love  of  heaven,  be  silent !"  said  Hume,  in 
a  whisper  to  the  former:  "waste  not  these  pre- 
cious moments  in  idle  alarms:  demand  what  ye 
will  of  the  spirit;  but,  be  courageous,  and  be 
brief." 

"  Tell  me,"  said  Eleanor,  advancing  towards  the 
circle,  but  trembling  in  every  limb — "  tell  me  what 
fate  awaits  King  Henry  ?" 

She  gazed  with  dim,  but  anxiously  straining  eyes, 
on  the  being  whom  she  interrogated ;  as,  in  a  sullen, 
feeble  voice  the  spirit  answered  :— - 

"  When  yonder  image  melts  in  yonder  blaze, 
Henry  shall  number  oat  fab  mortal  days." 

"Why,  that  is  well!"  exclaimed  the  Duchess, 
forgetting  her  alarm  in  the  confirmation  which  this 
prediction  gave  to  her  wildest  hopes.  "But, 
Henry,"  she  added,  is  not  the  only  person  whose 
existence  gives  me  uneasiness.  Tell  me,  too,  what 
fate  awaits  the  Duke  of  York  ?" 


153 
The  spirit  answered,  in  the  same  tone — 


"  Plantagenet  from  earth  shall  fly, 
Swiftly  and  speedily  as  /." 


"Why  that,"  said  Eleanor,  " is  better  tidings  still: 
thou  wilt  vanish  in  an  instant,  when  my  bidding  is 
performed.  And  shall  the  residue  of  Plantagenet 
on  this  earth  be  no  more  permanent  than  thy  own  ? 
Happy,  happy  Eleanor !" 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  madam/1  said  Hume,  gazing 
anxiously  on  a  dial  on  which  the  rays  of  the  fire  at 
that  moment  fell,  telling  him  that  the  midnight  hoar 
was  fast  approaching — "this  is  idle  and  inauspicious 
delay.  Would  you  demand  ought  farther  of  the 
spirit  r 

"  One,  one  more  question !"  she  exclaimed, 
M  Tell  me,"  she  said ;  and  then  hesitating  for  a 
moment,  seemed  anxious  yet  fearful  to  put  the 
question—*"  tell  me  my  own  future  fate — the  fate 
of  Eleanor  Cobham  ?" 

The  answer  was  not  given  to  this  question  so 
speedily  as  before ;  but,  when  it  was  pronounced, 
it  was  in  a  peculiarly  emphatic  and  impressive 
tone : — 

"  The  secrets  of  thy  future  fate 
Let  my  attending  spirits  state  ; 
Tell  the  Dame  of  Gloucester's  doom ; 
Come,  attending  spirits,  come  !" 

The  spirit,  as  he  finished  his  prediction,  was 
seen  to  apply  something  to  his  lips ;  and  presently 
afterwards,  no  unearthly  and  aerial  sound  was  heard 

v 


154 

to  proceed  from  them,  but  the  loud  and  distinct 
blast  of  a  bugle.  A  responsive  shout  was  heard 
to  follow  it,  and  then  the  doors  of  the  apartment 
were  burst  open,  and  a  band  of  soldiers,  carrying 
drawn  swords  and  lighted  torches  in  their  hands, 
rushed  in.  The  pretended  spirit  advanced  towards 
them,  and,  throwing  away  the  black  mantle  in 
which  his  form  and  face  had  been  enveloped,  dis- 
covered to  the  terrified  and  astonished  Duchess  the 
features  of  the  Duke  of  York ! 

"  The  fire!  the  fire  !"  said  Hume,  darting  a  look 
of  agony  at  the  dial. 

"Ha!  I  did  indeed  forget!"  said  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  who  was  the  leader  of  the  soldiers. 
<'  Fellows,  extinguish  that  accursed  light !" 

The  soldiers  immediately  advanced  to  the  fire; 
and,  trampling  upon  the  now  faint  and  decaying 
embers,  speedily  succeeded  in  extinguishing  it. 
The  last  spark,  however,  had  scarcely  been  trodden 
out,  before  the  bell  tolled  the  hour  of  midnight. 

"Heaven  be  praised!"  said  Hume;  "the  ac- 
cursed deed  has  been  prevented.  Had  yonder 
spark  retained  a  gleam  of  light  for  an  instant  longer, 
the  spirit  of  good  King  Henry  had  passed  away 
tor  ever." 

"  Peace,  double  traitor !"  said  the  Duke  of  York. 
"  Good  King  Henry  is  doubtless  indebted  to  thee 
for  his  life ;  but  he  has  to  thank  not  thy  loyalty, 
but  thy  malignity  and  avarice.  Both,  however, 
shall  be  gratified,  agreeably  to  the  promise  which  I 
made  thee.  The  woman,  Duchess  though  she  be, 
who  insulted  thee,  shall  be  brought  to  a  terrible 
expiation  of  her  crimes ;  and  the  reward  which  she 


155 

promised  thee  for  aiding  and  concealing  her  damna- 
ble practices,  shall  be  more  than  doubled  for  having 
revealed  them/' 

Eleanor  gazed  in  sullen  silence  on  the  scene  that 
had  terminated  all  her  hopes,  and  probably  her 
life.  She  saw  herself  too  completely  in  the  hands 
of  her  enemies  for  any  effort  at  resistance  or  escape 
to  be  availing ;  and  was  too  proud  to  expose  the 
bitterness  and  humiliation  of  her  feelings,  by  tears 
or  idle  upbraidings.  One  scornful  and  malignant 
smile,  which  she  glanced  at  Hume,  was  the  only 
expression  of  her  sentiments  in  which  she  indulged; 
and  then  she  left  the  apartment,  with  her  arms 
fettered  to  those  of  Bolinbroke  and  the  Witch 
of  Eye,  in  the  custody  of  Buckingham  and  the 
soldiers. 

The  events  which  followed  are  matter  of  history, 
and  too  well  known  to  require  more  than  a  brief 
recital.  The  Duchess  of  Gloucester,  Hume,  the 
Witch  of  Eye,  and  Bolinbroke,  were  tried  and 
condemned,  on  the  clearest  evidence,  for  the  crimes 
of  conspiring  the  death  of  the  King,  and  practising 
the  arts  of  magic  and  witchcraft. 

The  Witch  was  burned  in  Smithfield,  Bolinbroke 
was  hanged  at  Tyburn,  and  the  Duchess  sentenced 
to  do  open  penance  in  four  public  places  within  the 
city  of  London,  and  afterwards  to  imprisonment  for 
life  in  the  Isle  of  Man.  Hume  was  not  only  par- 
doned, but  liberally  rewarded.  This  man  did  not 
appear  really  to  have  possessed  any  knowledge  of 
the  occult  sciences;  but  seems  to  have  imposed  on 
the  credulity  of  the  Duchess. 

That  Margaret  Jourdmain  and  Roger  Bolinbroke 
were  really  magicians  and  wizards,  was  religiously 


156 

believed  by  all ,  and  the  fact  that  the  King,  at  the 
very  moment  that  the  magical  fire  was  extinguished 
in  the  house  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  recovered 
his  full  and  perfect  health,  at  his  palace  at  West- 
minster, gave  support  and  confirmation  to  such  a 
belief,  however  irrational  it  may  now  appear. 

The  Duke  of  Gloucester,  whatever  might  be  his 
feelings  at  the  disgrace  and  punishment  of  his 
Duchess,  did  not  attempt  any  exercise  of  his  autho- 
rity for  their  prevention ;  but,  to  use  the  language 
of  an  old  chronicler,  "toke  all  these  thynges 
patiently,  and  saied  little."* 

*  Ntele'i  "  Romance  of  History/' 


4' 


157 


ANCIENT  DIVINATION, 


BY  THB 


:i:m:h 


OF  PYTHAGORAS. 


Part  II. 


TO  RESOLVE  THE  QUESTIONS. 

Is  the  first  place,  the  inquirer  must  refer  to 
Table  HI.  Page  60 ;  and,  while  thinking  earnestly 
upon  the  question  he  wishes  resolved  or  answered, 
let  him  choose  a  number  out  of  that  table,  without 
premeditation ;  or,  what  is  said  to  be  still  better, 
let  the  inquirer  take  thirty  pieces  of  card,  and 
write  thereon  from  No.  1  to  30 ;  and  these  pieces 
being  so  numbered,  and  mixed  together,  let  one  of 
them  be  chosen  promiscuously,  and  the  number  thereon 
taken  notice  of.  This  is  the  first  step  in  the  opera- 
tion ;  but  thereon  depends  the  truth  of  the  whole : 
therefore  the  inquirer  must  be  particular  in  this 
part  of  the  process. 

Secondly.  To  this  number,  so  chosen,  either 
from  the  table  or  otherwise,  let  the  inquirer  add  the 
number  answering  to  the  first  Utter  of  his  proper  or 
Christian  name ;  which  is  seen  in  the  Wheel  itself, 
where  the  numbers  stand  in  the  inner  circle,  under 
the  letters. 

Thirdly.  To  this  sum  add  the  number  of  the 
<%  of  the  week,  and  of  the  planet  ruling  the  day ; 


158 

which  is  plainly  shown  in  Tables  No.  I.  and  II. 
page  64,  of  that  day  on  which  they  ask  the  ques- 
tion. •  Then,  add  the  whole  together ;  and  divide  it  by 
30,  or  subtract  30  from  it,  as  often  as  you  can  ;  and 
the  remainder  look  for  in  the  Wheel,  observing  in 
what  part  of  the  Wheel  it  falls  ;  but  if  there  be  no 
remainder,  then  the  number  30  itself  must  be 
looked  for. 

Now,  to  know  whether  the  question  or  demand, 
which  the  inquirer  or  any  one  else  propounds,  shall 
succeed  or  not ;  take  notice,  if  the  number  falls  in 
the  icpper  half  of  the  Wheel,  your  fortune  therein 
is  Good,  and  the  lot  you  have  cast  will  cause  your 
request  to  •  be  fulfilled.  But  if  it  chance  to  be 
found  in  the  lower  half  of  the  Wheel,  your  lot  is  evil 
and  unfortunate ;  and  the  proposed  question  shall 
have  an  Evil  issue. 

Note,  also,  if  it  be  any  question  wherein  time  is 
concerned ;  as,  how  long  or  how  short  shall  be  the 
matter  in  hand  before  it  be  accomplished.  Observe, 
that  one  half  of  the  Wheel  represents  numbers  of 
"long  time,"  the  other  half  of  "  short  time;"  and 
even  so,  in  good  or  evil,  shall  the  matter  in  hand 
fall  out. 

The  whole  of  the  questions  but  one  in  the  list  are 
answered  thus ;  but,  to  No.  3,  which  is,  "  If  a  sick 
person  shall  recover  or  die?"  to  the  above  sums 
must  be  added,  the  "  Moon's  Age"  on  the  day  the 
question  is  asked ;  and  the  result  proceeded  with 
in  the  same  manner. 

Example  1. 

Saturday,  March  1,  1828.— It  was  asked,  If  an 
undertaking  should  succeed  ?    The  number  chosen 


159 

was  14;  and  the  first  letter  of  the  person's  Christian 
name  was  R. 

Number  chosen 14 

Number  in  the  Wheel  answering  to  R.  13 

Number  answering  to  Saturday    ....  45 

Number  of  the  Planet  ruling  Saturday  55 

Sum  ..  127 


This,  divided  by  30,  leaves  7  for  the  remainder. 
Refer  to  the  Wheel,  and  7  is  found  in  the  upper 
half  of  the  Wheel,  and  in  the  half  marked  "short 
time."  This  shows  that  the  affair  would  be  accom- 
plished accordingly. 

Example  2. 

A  person  whose  initial  was  S.  asked,  on  Wednes- 
day, If  a  sick  friend  should  recover  or  die  ?  and 
drew  forth  a  card  with  the  number  23  upon  it,  as 
hifl  lot. 

Number  chosen 23 

Number  answering  to  S    9 

Number  answering  to  Wednesday   . .  102 

Number  answering  to  the  Planet. ...  114 

Number  of  the  Age  of  the  Moon  ....  20 


268 


This,  divided  by  30,  leaves  28  for  the  remainder, 
which  is  found  to  fell  in  the  unfortunate  half  of  the 
Wheel,  and  denotes  long  sickness,  and  dangerous, 
or  of  a  doubtful  issue. 


160 

These  examples  will  be  sufficient  to  illustrate  the 
method  of  resolving  questions  by  the  Wheel  of 
Pythagoras,  in  which  the  only  difficulty  consists  in 
choosing  the  first  number.  For  which  purpose,  the 
manuscript  from  whence  this  is  taken  recommends 
the  inquirer  not  to  "  ask  but  one  question  on  the  same 
day,  and  to  refrain  from  all  gibing,  sporting,  jesting, 
and  unbelief,  while  divining,"  or  making  use  of  the 
Wheel,  in  order  to  know  the  truth. 

The  reader  will  remember  that  this  extract  is  put 
more  for  his  amusement  than  for  any  avouching  as 
to  its  actual  certainty.  Let  him  try  it,  and  judge 
for  himself. 


UNFORTUNATE  AND  EVIL  DAYS, 

BY  tHE 

WHEEL  OF  PYTHAGORAS. 

The  same  manuscript  also  contains  a  tradition 
relating  to  the  evil  days,  or  days  of  misfor- 
tune, whereon  no  question  should  be  asked;  as 
follows : — 

"  There  be  evil  and  unfortunate  days,  so  called 
by  the  ancient  philosophers,  in  the  which,  if  a  man 
fall  sick,  he  shall  be  in  danger  of  death,  or  else  to  be 
long  sick;  or,  if  any  person  take  upon  him  a 
journey,  and  set  forward  in  any  one  of  these  days, 
he  shall  have  ill  luck  in  his  doings :  neither  is  it 
good  to  plant,  to  make  bargains,  or  banquets,  in 
any  of  them. 


lei 

"January  hath  five  ill  days  ;  that  is,  the  3d,  4th, 

5th,  9th,  and  11th. 
February   hath  three;    that  is,  the  13th,    17th, 

and  19th. 
March   hath  three;   that  is,  the  13th   15th,  and 

16th. 
April  hath  two  ;  that  is,  the  5th  and  the  14th. 
May  also  hath  two;  the  8th  and  the  14th. 
June  hath  but  one  ill  day ;  and  that  is,  the  6th. 
July  hath  two  ill  days;  the  16th  and  19th. 
August  hath  two ;  the  8th  and  the  16th. 
September  hath  three;  that  is,  the  1st,  15th,  and 

16th. 
October  hath  but  one  ill  day ;  and  that  is,  the  16th. 
November  hath  two;  that  is,  the  15th  and  16th. 
December  hath  three;  that  is,  the  6th,  7th,  and 

the  11th."  * 

The  foregoing  tradition  seems  to  be  a  relic  of 
ancient  augury,  or  soothsaying,  and,  consequently, 
very  old  in  date.  In  the  middle  ages,  these  days 
were  universally  shunned,  as  "  ruled  by  evil 
influences."    As  an  old  writer  has  it, 

"  Days  of  evil,  strife  and  bate ; 
Creel  wrath  and  fell  debate. 
Planets  strike  and  stars  annoy, 
Aspects,  alight  of  good  destroy. 
Shun  their  calends. 
Heed  their  power. 
Nought  begun  tn  evil  hour 
E? er  went  well.    Spirits  o'er 
Those  days  preside, 
Who  sport  and  gibe,  . 
With  human  fate; 
Omens  of  hate, 
Wrath,  and  debate." 

Old  Legend. 

•  The  reader  may  discover  the  really  fortunate  and  unfortunate  days,  as* 
eerting  to  astral  causes,  by  consulting  "THE  PROPHETIC  GUIDE/* 
Published  annually.    That  for  1829,  contains  the  fate  of  each  day  in  that  year 


162 
MISCELLANIES, 

AMUSING   AND   SELECT. 


New  Theory  of  the  Earth. 

M.  L.  Cordier,  Professor  of  Geology  in  the  Garden 
of  Plants  at  Paris,  has  published  a  Memoir,  in  which 
he  endeavours  to  prove  that  the  Earth  is  a  cooled 
star,  which  has  been  extinguished  only  at  its 
surface,  and  that  its  interior  is  still  in  a  state  of 
fluidity ;  that  the  main  thickness  of  the  crust  of  the 
Earth  does  not  exceed  twenty  leagues,  (60  English 
miles) ;  that,  according  to  observations  which  have 
been  made  in  the  caves  under  the  Observatory 
at  Paris,  the  heat  increases  so  fast,  that  at  the 
depth  of  about  a  mile  and  a  half  under  Paris,  we 
should  reach  a  temperature  equal  to  that  of  boiling 
water;  and  that  this  solid  crust  is  of  very  unequal 
thickness  in  different  countries,  bringing  the  fluid 
matter  nearer  the  surface,  and  imparting  a  Higher 
temperature  to  the  soil,  and  a  warmer  climate  to  the 
country. 

The  Chemical  Shrub. 

Place  a  sprig  of  rosemary,  or  any  other  garden 
herb,  in  a  glass  jar,  so  that  when  it  is  inverted  the 
stem  may  be  downwards  and  the  sprig  supported 
by  the  sides  of  the  jar ;  then  put  some  benzoic  acid 
upon  a  piece  of  hot  iron,  so  hot  that  the  acid  may 
be  sublimed  in  the  form  of  a  thick  white  vapour. 

Invert  the  jar  over  the  iron,  and  leave  the  whole 
untouched  until  the  sprig  be  covered  by  the  sub- 
limed acid  in  the  form  of  a  beautiful  hoarfrost. 


163 


A  Is  the  glass  jar. 

b  The  iron  upon  which  the  ben 
zoic  acid  is  placed. 

c  la  the  sprig  covered  by  the  acid 
after  sublimation. 


To  tell  the  Hour  of  the  Day  when  the  Sun  shines  by  one'* 
Hand. 


Between  the  fore  finger  and  thumb,  place  a  small 
■tick  fire  or  six  inches  long,  a  a,  projecting  four 
inches;  then  turn  your  back  nearly  towards  the 
nm,  so  that  it  may  shine  full  upon  the  outside  of 
the  thumb  when  held  upright,  as  in  the  figure, 
and  that  the  shadow  thereof  may  reach  so  far  as  that 
arched  mark  in  the  palm,  commonly  called  the  line  of 


1.64 

At  this  time,  the  stick  will  cast  its  shadow  across 
the  palm  to  its  lowest  part,  when  the  sun  is  at  its 
highest  meridian,  (or  12  at  noon).  And,  in  fact, 
the  true  position  of  the  stick  may  be  best  learned  by 
adjusting  it  by  this  rule  a  few  times  before  you  trust 
to  your  own  expertness. 

Earlier  in  the  day,  before  attaining  this  altitude, 
the  sun  will  throw  the  shadow  of  the  stick's  point 
higher  up  on  the  joints  of  the  little  finger,  as  marked 
at  11,  10,  9,  8,  in  the  morning;  but  at  1,  2,  3,  &c.f 
the  shadow  of  the  stick's  point  will  reach  beyond 
the  joints  of  that  finger  as  marked  respectively ;  and 
so  on  of  the  others. 

Electric  Eels. 

The  electric  eels  of  America  frequently  attack  and 
kill  horses  who  pass  the  marshes,  where  these  ex- 
traordinary animals  are  found.  The  Indian  mode 
of  fishing  for  these  eels  is  most  extraordinary. 
They  enclose  a  part  of  the  marsh,  and  then  drive 
horses  and  mules  into  the  water.  The  noise  excites 
these  courageous  fish  to  the  attack,  and  they  are 
seen  swimming  on  the  surface,  and  coming  in  con- 
tact with  the  quadrupeds. 

Many  of  them  are  killed  by  the  electric  shock, 
others  are  seen  panting,  and,  with  all  the  symptoms 
of  terror  and  anguish,  endeavouring  to  get  away ;  but 
the  Indians  drive  them  back  with  long  bamboos.  At 
length,  the  eels,  having  exhausted  the  whole  store 
of  electric  fluid,  which  it  would  require  a  con- 
siderable time  to  reproduce,  become  feeble  and 
frightened  by  the  trampling  of  the  horses,  and  ap- 
proach tho  bonks,  where  they  are  struck  by  the 
Indians  with  harpoons,  and  killed. 


165 


THE  WANDERING  JEW. 

Dr.  Percy  tells  us,  "  this  story  is  of  considerable 
antiquity ;  it  had  obtained  full  credit  in  this  part  of 
the  world  before  the  year  1228,  as  we  learn  from 
Matt  Paris ;  for  in  that  year  it  seems  there  came 
an  Armenian  Archbishop  into  England  to  visit  the 
shrines  and  reliques  preserved  in  our  churches,  who 
being  entertained  at  the  Monastery  of  St.  Albans, 
was  asked  several  questions  relating  to  his  country," 
&c.  Among  the  rest  a  Monk,  who  sat  near  him, 
inquired  "  if  he  had  ever  seen  or  heard  of  the  famous 
person  named  Joseph,  that  was  so  much  talked  of, 
who  was  present  at  our  Lord's  Crucifixion,  and 
conversed  with  him,  and  who  was  still  alive  in  con- 
firmation of  the  Christian  faith  ?"  The  Archbishop 
answered,  that  the  fact  was  true ;  and  afterwards, 
one  of  his  train,  who  was  well  known  to  a  servant 
of  the  Abbot's,  interpreting  his  master's  words,  told 
them,  in  French,  that  his  Lord  knew  the  person 
they  spoke  of  very  well ;  that  he  dined  at  his  table 
but  a  little  while  before  he  left  the  East ;  that  he 
had  been  Pontius  Pilate's  porter,  by  name  Cata- 
pbilus ;  who,  when  they  were  dragging  Jesus  out 
of  the  door  of  the  Judgment  Hall,  struck  him  with 
his  fist  on  the  back,  saying,  "  Go  faster,  Jesus,  go 
fester ;  why  dost  thou  linger  ?"  Upon  which  Jesus 
looked  at  him  with  a  frown,  and  said,  "  I  indeed 
am  going,  but  thou  shalt  tarry  till  1  come."  Soon 
after,  he  was  converted  and  baptized  by  the  name 
of  Joseph.  He  lives  for  ever ;  but  at  the  end  of 
every  hundred  years  falls  into  an  incurable  illness, 
and  at  length  into  a  violent  fit  of  ecstasy,  out  of 
which,  when  he  recovers,  he  returns  to  the  same 


166 

state  of  youth  he  was  in  when  Jesus  suffered,  being 
then  about  thirty  years  of  age.  He  remembers  all 
the  circumstances  of  the  death  and  resurrection  of 
Christ,  the  Saints  that  arose  with  him;  the  com- 
posing of  the  Apostle's  Creed,  their  preaching  and 
dispersion ;  and  is  himself  a  very  grave  and  holy 
person.  This  is  the  substance  of  M.  Paris's  account, 
who  was  himself  a  Monk  at  St.  Alban's,  and  was 
living  at  the  time  when  this  Armenian  Bishop  made 
the  above  relation.  Since  this  time,  several  im- 
postors have  appeared  at  intervals  under  the  name 
and  character  of  the  Wandering  Jew. 

TO  PRESERVE   BOOKS. 

A  Secret  for  the  Literary  Amateur. 

A  few  drops  of  any  'perfumed  oil  will  secure  libraries 
from  the  consuming  effects  of  mouldiness  and  damp. 
Russian  leather,  which  is  perfumed  with  the  tar 
of  the  birch- tree,  never  moulds;  and  merchants 
suffer  large  bales  of  this  article  to  lie  in  the  London 
Docks  in  the  most  careless  manner,  knowing  that  it 
cannot  sustain  any  injury  from  damp. 

VELOCITV   OF  THE   EARTH'S   MOTION,   AND   MAGNI- 
TUDES  OF  THE  PLANETARY   OUBS. 

The  distance  of  the  sun  from  the  earth  is  95,000,000 
miles,  which  being  the  radius  of  the  earth's  orbit, 
we  have  its  diameter  190,000,000  miles,  and  taking 
Van  Ceulen's  proportion,  which  I  consider  to  be 
sufficiently  accurate  for  this  purpose,  i.  e.  as 
1  :  3,141,593  : :  190,000,000  :  596,902,670,  the  cir- 
cumference of  the  earth's  orbit.    Now  as  the  earth 


167 

completes  its  revolution  in  about  3C5  days,  we  find 
that  in  our  day  it  moves  through  the  space  1 ,635*354 
miles ;  in  an  hour  through  68,140  miles ;  in  a  minute 
1,136  miles;  and  in  the  short  space  of  one  second  it 
moves  through  19  miles.  Perhaps  it  may  not  be 
considered  altogether  uninteresting  to  enlarge  rather 
upon  this  subject,  by  giving  the  hourly  motion  of 
the  principal  planets,  by  which  it  will  be  seen 
that  those  nearest  their  centre  of  gravity  move 
fastest ;  hence  the  inferior  planets,  Mercury  and 
Venus,  will  move  at  a  greater  rate  than  the  earth, 
and  the  superior  planets  will  move  slower;  their 
hourly  motion  is  as  follows: — Mercury  95,000 
miles,  Venus  69,000,  Mars  47,000,  Jupiter  25,000, 
Saturn  18,000,  and  Uranus  15,381  mites  in  an  hour. 


Masses  so  stupendous,  situated  at  distances  so 
very  great,  would  lead  us  to  infer  that  each  of  thera 
is,  like  our  earth,  clothed  with  vegetables  and 
peopled  with  animals.  This  gives  us  an  idea  of  the 
extent  and  grandeur  of  creation,  and  by  consequence 
of  the  power  and  majesty  of  the  Creator,  which  we 
cannot  acquire  by  anything  merely  terrestrial ;  and 
it  is  by  those  appeals  and  views  that  the  science  of 
astrology  rises  so  much  in  grandeur  above  every 
other  science,  and  inspires  feelings  of  devotion  and 
reverence  for  the  Deity,  which  can  be  excited  by  no 


168 

other  subject  that  can  occupy  the  human  powers. 
In  other  studies  we  may  be  puzzled,  but  here  we 
are  overcome  by  amazement,  and  forced  to  exclaim 
with  the  poet, 


« 


An  undevout  Astrologer  is  r/iariT" 


NATURE    OF    THE    SUN.   # 

For  many  ages  the  sun  was  believed  to  be  a  globe 
of  fire ;  but  the  majority  of  modern  astronomers 
have  rejected  this  opinion.  One  of  the  most  plausible 
and  ingenious  theories  on  this  subject  is  given  by 
Dr.  Herschel,  in  the  Philosophical  Transactions  of 
the  Royal  Society.  He  supposes  the  sun  has  an 
atmosphere  resembling  that  of  the  earth,  and  that 
this  atmosphere  consists  of  various  elastic  fluids, 
some  of  which  exhibit  a  shining  brilliancy,  while 
others  are  merely  transparent.  In  others,  the 
opaque  vapours  will  reflect  the  sun's  light,  without 
permitting  his  solid  body  to  be  seen  on  the  surface 
of  our  globe. 

He  apprehends  also,  that  there  are  considerable 
inequalities  in  the  surface  of  the  sun,  and  that  there 
may  be  elevations,  not  less  than  500  or  600  miles  in 
height;  that  a  very  high  country,  or  chain  of 
mountains,  may  oftener  become  visible  by  the  re- 
moval of  the  obstructing  fluid  than  the  lower  regions 
on  account  of  its  not  being  so  deeply  covered  by  it. 
In  the  year  1779,  the  Doctor  observed  a  spot  on  the 
sun  large  enough  to  be  discerned  by  the  naked  eye;  for 
it  extended  more  than  50,000  miles. 


10Q 


THE   ASTROLOGER. 


No.  IV. 


THE  NATIVITY  OF  A  NOBLE  POET. 


170 


PLANETS'  DECLINATIONS. 


© 

22° 

50'  N 

> 

IS 

*7 

80  U. 

y 

3 

20  N. 

J? 

19 

20  N. 

% 

23 

18  N. 

i 

2 

0  S. 

? 

20 

0   N. 

s 

21 

30  N. 

The  time  of  the  above  horoscope  was  given  to  me 
by  the  noble  native  himself,  at  the  request  of  his 
friend,  the  Countess  of  Westmoreland,  in  the  year 
1825,  from  which  I  remember  predicting  that  his 
Poem  of  €t  The  Moor"  would  not  be  popular.  My 
remarks  were  not  appreciated  at  the  time  ;  but  the 
public  opinion  has  since  coincided  with  the  sentence 
of  the  heavenly  bodies  ;  in  addition  to  which,  even 
the  last  production  of  the  noble  author,  "  The 
Tragedy  of  Don  Pedro,"  although  possessing  many 
poetical  beauties,  has  likewise  failed  to  crown  him 
with  any  additional  honours. 

What  are  the  operating  causes  for  such  ill  success? 
will  naturally  be  asked  by  the  astrological  student. 
To  which  I  beg  leave  to  answer,  by  pointing 
them  out  the  close  approaching  zodiacal  quartile  of 
the  Moon  and  Mars,  from  the  bicorporeal  signs 
Sagittarius  and  Pisces, — signs  which,  when  replete 
with  evil  rays,  are  more  than  usually  malignant  as 
to  any  good  fortune  wherein  the  public  opinion,  or 
voice  of  the  people,  are  concerned.  The  same 
aspect  is  generally  found  to  produce  either  perpe- 
tual celibacy,  evil  connexions,  or  trouble  in  the 
matrimonial  state ;  for  even  riches  and  splendour 
will  but  gild  the  galling  chain,  where  a  union  of 


171 


hands  and  not  of  hearts  takes  place,  and  cannot,  with 
all  their  lustre,  procure  domestic  happiness. 

The  inclination  for  poetry,  and  the  genius  or  the 
gift  of  imagination  necessary  thereto,  are  here  dc- 
monstrated  by  the  conjunction  of  Venus  and  Mercury 
in  the  sign  Gemini,  and  by  Venus  and  Mercury 
being  in  close  parallel  in  the  Zodiac.  But  I  regret 
to  say,  the  native,  however  worthy,  will  never 
become  a  favourite  with  the  lovers  of  poetry.  The 
before-mentioned  evil  configurations  deny  it  alto- 
gether. 

The  foregoing  authentic  horoscope  will  verify  the 
rules  laid  down  in  my  former  writings.  I  subjoin  a 
list  of  the  principal  directions  calculated  by  me  at 
the  time  1  drew  forth  his  horoscope ;  they  will  serve 
as  a  praxis  for  the  student  The  measure  of  time 
by  which  the  arcs  are  equated,  is  that  given  in  my 
"  Manual,"  which  see. 


©  to  the  a  of  h  converse. 
©  to  the  6  of  9  converse. 
©  to  the  a  of  t  direct 
©  to  the  6  of  %  converse. 

>  to  the  a  of  fc  converse. 

>  to  the  Sesquktosdrat*  of  j 

>  to  the  #  of  g  converse. 

>  to  the  8  of  $  converse. 
0  to  the  *  of  1^  converse. 

>  to  the  a  of  &  direct 
Ascendant  to  the  6  of  $ 

>  to  the  a  of  $  direct. 
Ascendant  to  the  d  of  g 
Q  to  the  4  of  %  direct 
0  to  the  6  of  %  zodiac 

>  to  the  a  of  %  converse. 


7 
o 

i 

3 
3 
5 
6 

7 

8 
9 
9 
20 
21 
21 
21 
21 


3 
9 
5 
0 
0 
0 
0 
9 
0 
0 
6 

6 
10 


AFalL 


QCfH9f9m 

menU. 


172 


9  to  the  a  of  8  direct  22 

0  to  the  Semiquartile  of  I?  24 

Mid-heaven  to  the  8  of  h  25 

0  to  the  a  of  ^  direct.  26 

»  to  the  *  of  fc  converse.  29 


6 


5} 
} 
} 


2 
9 


Travelled. 

Wrote  the  "  Mooh," 
unsuccessful. 

Wrote  in  "  Literary 
Souvenir" 

Will  give  Literary 
Success. 


It  was  my  intention  to  give  a  list  of  every  arc,  up 
to  the  period  of  his  predicted  decease ;  but  I  have 
already  extended  this  article  to  too  great  a  length 
for  the  general  reader,  and  the  student  in  the 
science  will  therefore  excuse  my  not  continuing  the 
list.  The  directions  were,  as  far  as  I  can  recollect, 
planispherically  calculated ;  and  probably,  although 
the  noble  Lord  is  a  metaphysical  philosopher,  as 
well  as  a  poet,  he  might  deem  it  invidious  were  I  to 
descant  publicly  upon  his  future  fate.  I  must  there- 
fore decline  the  gratification  of  any  thing  resembling 
idle  curiosity. 

"  For  m  th*  Stan,  clearer  than  it  the  glue, 
Is  written,  God  wot,  whoso  could  It  read, 
The  dethe  of  erery  men  wlthoutin  dredo. 
In  Starrs  many  a  winter  there  before 
Was  writ  the  dethe  of  Hector,  Achilles, 
Of  Pompej,  Julias,  ere  they  were  bore ; 
The  strife  of  Thebis  end  of  Hercules, 
Of  Sampson,  Tonus,  and  of  Socrates, 
The  dene;  bat  that  men's  witts  ben  so  doll 
That  no  wight  can  well  rede  it  at  thefiuV' 


173 

^ragmenta  from  0n  Ootyots* 

(Frvm  m  CorrtsptmUnt.) 


"  Some  choice  Aphorisms,  and  Rules  for  Elections, 

relating  to  most  Undertakings. 

"  The  *  increasing  in  good  aspect  of  the  o#  helps 
'or  journies. 

"  In  all  journies,  the  greatest  impediment  of  a 
planet  is  to  be  peregrine  or  retrograde. 

"  Tis  bad  in  journies  to  have  *  in  the  third  or 
ninth,  but  much  worse  to  have  him  in  the  second. 

"  The  lord  of  the  ninth  or  third,  in  the  first,  the 
journey  will  be  successful ;  but  if  strong  and  well 
aspected,  the  better. 

"  In  all  journies  view  the  > ,  for  she  is  a  general 
significatrix  of  journies. 

44  When  a  ship  sets  sail,  if  h  ascend  in  x,  the 
ship  will  be  cast  away  if  4  afflict  him. 

44  If  you  go  to  a  prince  or  king,  let  a  fiery  sign 
ascend,  and  let  the  ©  be  in  good  aspect  with  % 
or  *. 

"  Begin  no  building,  the  J>  in  x,  or  si,  having 
south  latitude  descending ;  for  if  you  do,  it  will 
soon  fall. 

44  The  most  fortunate  time  to  begin  buildings  is 
when  the  >  is  in  m,  or  when  *:  ascends,  and 
the  >  behold  it,  and  the  fortunes  in  good  aspect  to 
the  degree  ascending. 

44  In  marriages,  the  ascendant  stands  for  the  man, 
the  seventh  for  the  woman. 

44  In  which  of  those  parts  good  planets  are,  it  will 
be  best  for  them. 

"  Let  not  the  »  be  combust  on  the  marriage-day, 


174 

for  that  signifies  the  death  of  the  man ;  nor  in  the 
combust  way,  for  that  signifies  an  ill  end. 

"  Tis  very  ill  in  marriages,  if  the  D  apply  to  fc  or  $ , 
though  the  aspect  be  ever  so  good ;  for  then  there 
will  be  neither  peace  nor  love  between  them. 

"  In  all  marriages  let  the  D  increase  in  light  and 
motion,  and  let  her  have  no  ill  aspect  to  the  ©,  nor 
any  at  all  to  h  or  g . 

"  $  is  the  only  general  significatrix  in  marriage, 
and  therefore  it  is  best  to  let  the  »  apply  to  her. 

"  If  the  lord  of  the  ascendant  is  weak,  and  the 
lord  of  the  seventh  strong  in  the  seventh,  and  he  a 
commanding  planet,  and  in  good  aspect  of  $ ,  she 
will  wear  the  breeches,  and  domineer  oyer  her 
husband. 

"  I  know  one,  who  had  n  ascending  at  the  time 
of  marriage,  and  t  and  9  in  6  in  v\9  and  both  com- 
bust, and  in  *  to  the  D,  and  it  proved  a  very 
unhappy  marriage. 

"  Let  not  i?  or  *  be  in  the  seventh,  for  that  always 
puts  the  woman  out  of  order. 

"  Such  as  go  to  war,  ought  to  consider  of  coming 
home  safe  again. 

"  For  this  end,  let  the  ©,  %9  or  j,  be  in  the 
ascendant,  or  else  they  may  fail  of  it. 

"  If  h  be  in  the  ascendant,  he  will  come  again 
a  coward,  surprised  with  fear,  and  not  fight. 

"  If  4  be  there,  he  will  either  die  there,  or  be 
dangerously  wounded. 

"  But  if  h  and  &  be  both  there,  you  may  be  con- 
fident he  will  never  return.  '  i  . 

"  If  in  the  tenth,  he  will  be  taken  prisoner, 
especially  if  the  lord  of  the  ascendant  be  in  the 
twelfth. 


175 


"  Judge  of  the  challenger  by  the  ascendant,  and 
so  vary  the  houses  accordingly. 

"  Judge  of  the  opponent  by  the  seventh,  and  so 
vary  the  houses  as  before ;  the  tenth  being  hit 
fourth,  and  the  fourth  his  tenth,  &c.  &c. 

"  It  is  not  good  to  fight  when  the  lord  of  the 
ascendant  is  in  the  eighth,  for  then  there  is  danger 
of  death. 

"  The  assailant  always  loses  the  battle,  if  the 
lord  of  the  ascendant  be  an  Infortune,  Retrograde, 
and  Combust. 

"  But  if  the  lord  of  the  seventh  be  so,  the  opponent 
is  beaten. 

"  When  the  j> ,  h » and  i ,  shall  be  joined  together, 
there  will  be  great  effusion  of  blood. 

"  What  has  been  said  of  two  fighting,  is  as  well 
applicable  to  the  plaintiff  an<Lde£endant  in  a  suit  of 
law. 

"  If  any  one  go  the  King,  &c.  let  the  d  be  in  the 
ascendant  in  *  or  a  to  the  O  in  the  tenth  house." 


SIR  WM.  DELAMERB  MASSY. 


GEOMANCY 


No.  3. 

The  method  of  casting  or  forming  a  figure  of 
Geomancy,  has  been  already  shown ;  as  also,  what 
is  termed,  the  "  Figure  of  the  Triplicities;"  for  the 
better  judging  of  which,  the  old  authors  hare  left  on 
record  certain  Tables,  which  contain  the  "  SentenaT 
of  the  witnesses  and  judge ;  by  which,  without 
further  trouble,  the  answer,  so  far  as  a  negative  or 
affirmative  is  concerned,  may  be  found  without 
trouble. 

It  has  been  also  observed,  that  only  eight  out  of 
the  sixteen  figures  can  ever  be  judge  ;  yet,  as  there 
are  two  witnesses  also  to  be  taken  into  account,  the 
variations  to  the  answers  are  8  *  1 G,  and  therefore 


177 

equal  to  128  in  number.  In  these  cases,  however, 
it  is  of  consequence  to  notice  on  which  side  the 
good  or  evil  figures  fall,  as  that  ghres  the  variations 
in  the  result.    Thus,  for  instance,  the  Triplicities— 

o  o        o  ooo 

ooo  o        o  o 

ooo  ooo 

oo       o  and      o       o  o   although  the  judge 

o  o 

o  o 

o  o 

o  o 

is  the  same  in  each,  yet  the  answers  corresponding 
are  different;  and  so  in  all  other  cases  whatever* 

In  order  to  work  by  the  following  Tables,  the 
reader  must  cast  the  figure,  and  refer  to  the  page 
for  the  answer  to  his  question :  thus,  for  instance, 
in  the  following  figure : — 


• 
• 

4 


If  the  question  were  "  cf  the  Length  of  Life," 
the  answer  would  be,  "  Short  Life." 

If  it  were  of  an  affair  connected  with  "  Money," 
the  answer  would  be,  "  Unfortunate" 

If  it  were  of  "  Sickness,"  it  would  denote  "  Death" 
to  the  Patient,  and  so  on  in  all  other  cases ;  referring 
to  that  page  of  the  work  which  has  the  required 


178 

Triplicities.  I  have  only  to  observe  that  the  fol- 
lowing Tables  are  compiled  from  an  old  and  curious 
author,  now  out  of  print :  the  answers  are  concise, 
and  the  explanation  simple ;  which  is  as  much  as 
can  be  wished. 

Veibum  sapientia  tatis.    (Bur.) 


Example  at  large  of  the  whole  Figure  whereby  the 

Judge  is  obtained. 


O  0        o 

0 

0 

0 

0  o 

t)  o 

0 

0   O         0  0 

0  o       o 

0 

0 

0 

0  0 

0   0 

0 

O   O         0  0 

0         o 

o 

o 

o 

O   0 

< 

0   0 

0    O         0   0 

0   0         0 

0 

0 

0 

0  0 

0  0 

o 

0    O         O   0 

0   0 

0 

0 

0 

o  o 

0   0 

u 

o 

o 

o  o 

o 

o 

o 

1 

r>  c 

\ 

O  0 

0  0 

0 
0 

0 
0 

0 

o 

o 

0 

o 

o  o 

o 

O   0 

Witness 

0 

0 

Judg 

0 

Witness 

o 

o 

0 

0 

THE  SENTENCE 

01 

POPULUS  AND  VIA, 


JUDGE 

I»   THB   Q0MT10HS   ML4TIN*  TO 

i.  attiBtj  a  wit, 

2.  JHotus  1  *aln> 

3.  JBonout  or  etrttt, 

4.  Sonintw, 
6.  iHarrlagt, 

6.  »«ffnai«B. 

7.  JtirtmtM, 

8.  Snvriwnmnit, 

9.  9ounui!»,  anS 

10.  cwno*  *«*; 

Recording  to  Oe  motfmm  Atlktn  of  firmer  t 


180 


O   0 

o  o 

o  o 

o  o  o  o 
o  o 
o  o 
o  o 

Qmostiom. 


o  o 

o  o 

o  o 

o  o 


o  o 

o  o 

o  o 

o  © 


o 
o 
o 
o 


o 
o 
o 
o 


HAotutily  long 

mhi^MMv^v     jH  i^^vv 

flVS^PV^^^^V^^f       flK  a^^e^Pe  V 

Basines   •  •  •  • 

Fortunate. 

Marriage  •••• 

Good. 

Pregnancy  •••  • 

ADamgktor. 

SickneM    .... 

DattgMvm* 

Imprisonment  • 

Gooo*  *>  JFW «r. 

Thing  loft    .. 

Qmttftjfeat. 

Antwort. 

■Wnnfi 

£•& 

JH08N. 

Buaneai    .... 

Vnfwtnmmte. 

Marring*  .... 

Good. 

Pregnancy. . . . 

ASom. 

git  know 

BemUk. 

Imprisonment . 

Qmck  Rolemoe. 

Journey.*  •  •  •  • 

Good  mid  pack. 

Thing  lost    .. 

Notjmmi. 

o 
o 
o 
o 


o  o 

o  o 

o  o 

o  o 


o 
o 
o 
o 


o 
o  o 
o  o 
©  o 


o 
o 
o 
o 


o  o 

o 
o 
o 


QuotHons. 

Anmooro. 

XmL 

Boil. 

Good* 

ButlMi     •  •  •  • 

Fortunate. 

BuRMgS  •••• 

Good. 

Pregnancy...  • 

ADamgktor. 

Sfckne— 

Dangoromo. 

■ 

Inpriaonmecl . 

• 
Long. 

GoodowSoa. 

TUagkMt    .. 

Not/omnd. 

m^Mm^^m^J^^ 

Answer*. 

Good  and  Long. 

An  inoromoe. 

Good. 

Business   .... 

Good. 

Marriage  .... 

Good. 

Pregnancy ...  • 

ASom. 

Jamfifrt. 

Imprisonment . 

Late  out. 

Endo  good. 

Thing  lost    .. 

Fkmd. 

L 


181 


o  o 
o  o 

o 
o 


o  o 

o  o 

o  o 

o  o 


o  o 
o  o 

o 
o 


o  o 
o  o 

o 

o      o 

o 
o 
o 

QmmHms. 


o 

o 
o  o 
o  © 


*~n«h 

JrmtWtKttH$m 

Jhbbmb   •  ••  • 

Fmmmwm. 

JMRMMB  •  ••  • 

O^^L. 

rRBBMMy  •  ••  • 

A  AIM* 

wwHHi      •  •  •  • 

flmltk 

l.pliw— t. 

Cmmm*. 

QmimAmmh 

Thtagimt   .. 

JW. 

Mmm. 

nOBOIff  •••••• 

Omi. 

IMHmMl    •••  • 

Mmmfy  Omi. 

Burriflgn  •••• 

Omi. 

fTtgnncy***  • 

ASm. 

BMKBMB  •      ••  • 

HmUh* 

Impriwwmrt . 

D.Umrm*: 

aMM  A#ntm* 

Thing  kmt   .. 

Fmmd- 

o  o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 


o  o 

o  o 

o  o 

o  o 


o  o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 


o  o 
o  o 

o  o 


o 
o 
o 
o 


o 

o 

o  o 

o 


Jfrmmrit. 

JMM^  •••••• 

JVHM« 

H0MW  •••  ••  • 

JfaM. 

Bwtaeni    •••# 

*«*. 

hhninft  •••« 

hUjflrtni. 

* ftfBMBt^m  m  m  . 

A  Dmmgktmr. 

mtft§&lt$m 

IflpiliaMMBt  • 

Wl^^wl^^WI 

ffeyftttf  %r 

TUngbMl    .. 

i 

» 

S*ri  Lift. 

Unfmimmto. 

IU. 

BmL 

Minings  •  •  •  • 

U*/m  hmmti. 

Pregnancy.  •  •  • 

A  Dmugkim. 

Btekness  •  •  •  •  • 

Dm*. 

Imprisonment . 

PtHkm. 

Mmm. 

Thing  lott    •• 

182 


o  o 

O  O 

o 

O 

o  o 

o  o 

o     o 

O       o   © 

o 

o 

o 

o 

o 

o 

Questions. 

Answers. 

Life    

Very  toil. 

Unlucky. 

Very  ill. 

Business 

Unfortunate. 

Marriage  .... 

A  bad  one. 

Pregnancy .  . . 

A  Girl. 

Perilous, 

Imprisonment . 

Death. 

Bobbed. 

Thing  lost    . . 

Not  found. 

O   O 

O  O 

O   O 

o  o 

o  o 

o  o 

o       o 

o      o 

o 

o 

o 

o 

o 

o 

Questions, 

Answers. 

Life    

Short. 

Unlucky. 

Evil. 

Business    .... 

Evil. 

Marriage  .... 

Jarring. 

Pregnancy.... 

Abortion, 

Death, 

Imprisonment . 

Dangerous. 

Unlucky. 

Thing  Lost  . . 

Not  found. 

o  o 

o 
o  o 
o  o 


o 
o 
o 
o 


o 

o  o 

o 

o 


Questions. 


Answers. 


Moderate. 

Meanly  Good. 

Mean. 

Business    .... 

Indifferent. 

Marriage 

Prosperous. 

Pregnancy    . . 

A  Daughter. 

Sickness 

Long  Sick. 

Imprisonment 

Soon  out. 

Slow. 

Thing  Lost  . . 

Found. 

O   O 

o  o 
o  o 
o       c 
c 

c 

c 

Questions. 

O 
O 

o 
>     o  o 
) 

> 

Answers. 

Life    

1 

Very  evil.     1 

Very  ill. 

m. 

Business   .... 

< 

Unlucky. 

Marriage  .... 

Evil. 

Pregnancy. . . . 

Abortion. 

Perilous. 

Imprisonment . 

Lang. 

Unlucky. 

Thing  lost   .. 

No*  found. 

183 


o 

o  o 
o  o 
o  o 


o  o 

o  o 

o  o 

o  o 


o 

o  o 
o  o 
o  o 


o 
o  o 

o 
o 


o  o 
o  o 
o  o 
o  o 


o 
o  o 

o 
o 


Lmg. 

Long. 

Menu. 

Fortunate. 

JH08JB. 

Geed. 

BlMJBMt     •••• 

UUtUGmU* 

Bmtnai  .... 

Vary  good. 

JUfTMgS    •  •  •  • 

Oflfrf. 

Bunugv  •  ••  • 

Pteammt. 

negHBCj  •  •  •  • 

«  oMI* 

PlCgMBCy.  ••• 

A  Son. 

iMnni     •  #•• 

Danger. 

JLfaugereue. 

l^HPUBQD^BS^B  v  ■ 

CmmwmU. 

teprimatBt. 

DeUwery. 

Goed. 

Voyage  good. 

TU^Iott     .. 

Thing  tot    .. 

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184 


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o  o 

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o  o 

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o 
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'85 


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«* 

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j  Imprisonment  • 

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Thing  font    .. 

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o  o 

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p 


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O   O 

o 
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i 

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m. 

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i 

187 


o 
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•  •»• 


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188 


&i)t  imovlX  *tf  S&iritfr 


CROMWELL'S  COMPACT  WITH  THE 

DEVIL. 

The  following*  "True  and  faithful  Narrative  of 
Oliver  Cromwell's  Compact  with  the  Devil  for  seven 
years,  on  the  day  on  which  he  gained  the  Battle  of 
Worcester,"  may  not  prove  uninteresting  to  many  of 
our  readers. 

The  tract  opens  with  the  following  extract  from 
Mr.  Archdeacon  Eachard's  History  of  the  Kings  of 
England,  which  he  quotes  from  the  "  History  of 
Independency,"  part  4,  p.  13. 

"  It  was  believed,  and  not  without  some  good 
cause,  that  Cromwell,  the  same  morning  he  had 
defeated  the  King's  army  at  Worcester  fight,  had 
conference  personally  with  the  devil,  with  whom 
he  made  a  contract,  that  to  have  his  will  then,  and 
in  all  things  else  after,  for  seven  years  from  that  time, 
(being  the  3rd  of  September,  1651) ;  he  should  at 
the  expiration  of  the  said  years,  have  him  at  his 
command,  both  his  soul  and  his  body.  Now,  if  any 
one  will  please  to  reckon  from  the  3rd  of  September, 
1651,  till  the  3rd  of  September,  1658,  he  shall  find 
it  to  a  day  just  seven  years,  and  no  more ;  at  the 
end  of  which  he  died,  but  with  extremity  of  tem- 
pestuous weather  that  was  by  all  men  judged  to 

*  A  tract  printed  and  sold  by  W.  Boreham,  at  the  Angel  in  Pater- 
noster Row.  6d. 


189 

be  prodigious :  neither,  indeed,  was  his  end  more 
miserable  (for  he  died  mad  and  despairing)  than  he 
had  left  his  name  infamous." 

Archdeacon  Eachard  then  gives  "a  relation  or 
narrative  of  a  valiant  officer  called  Lindsey,  an  inti- 
mate friend  of  Cromwell's,  the  first  Captain  of  his 
regiment,  and  therefore  commonly  called  Colonel 
Lindsey,"  which  is  to  this  effect : — 

"  On  the  3rd  of  September,  in  the  morning, 
Cromwell  took  this  officer  to  a  wood  side,  not  far 
from  the  array,  and  bid  him  alight  and  follow  him 
into  that  wood,  and  to  take  particular  notice  of  what 
he  saw  and  heard!  After  they  had  both  alighted 
and  secured  their  horses,  and  walked  some  small 
way  into  the  wood,  Lindsey  began  to  turn  pale,  and 
to  be  seized  with  horror  from  some  unknown  cause  ; 
upon  which  Cromwell  asked  him  how  he  did,  or 
how  be  felt  himself?  He  answered  that  he  was  in 
such  a  trembling  and  consternation,  that  he  never 
felt  the  like  in  all  the  conflicts  and  battles  he 
had  engaged  in;  but  whether  it  proceeded  fiom 
the  gloominess  of  the  place,  or  the  temperament  of 
his  body,  he  knew  not.  €  How  now,'  said  Crom- 
well, *  what !  troubled  with  vapours  ?  Come  forward 
man.'  They  had  not  gone  above  twenty  yards 
before  Lindsey  on  a  sudden  stood  still,  and  cried 
out  by  all  that  was  good,  that  he  was  seized  with 
such  unaccountable  terror  and  astonishment,  that  it 
was  impossible  for  him  to  stir  one  step  farther. 

"  Upon  this,  Cromwell  called  him  a  faint-hearted 
fool,  and  bid  him  stand  there  and  observe,  or  be  a 
witness ;  and  then  advancing  to  some  distance  from 
him,  he  met  with  a  grave  elderly  man,  with  a  roll  of 
parchment  in  his  hand,  who  delivered  it  to  Cromwell, 


190 

who  eagerly  derated  it.  Lindsey,  a  little  recovered 
from  his  fear,  heard  several  loud  words  between 
them :  particularly,  Cromwell  said,  '  This  is  but 
for  seven  years — I  was  to  have  it  for  one-and-twenty, 
and  it  must  and  shall  be  so/  The  other  told 
him  positively,  '  it  could  not  be  for  above  seven 
years;'  upon  which  Cromwell  cried  with  great 
fierceness,  'it  should  be  for  fourteen  years/  But 
the  other  peremptorily  declared  it  could  not  possibly 
be  for  any  longer  time ;  and  if  he  would  not  take  it 
so,  there  were  others  who  would  accept  it. 

"  Upon  this,  Cromwell,  at  last,  took  the  parch- 
ment, and  returned  to  Lindsey  with  great  joy  in  his 
countenance,  and  cried,  '  Now,  Lindsey,  the  battle 
is  our  own — I  long  to  be  engaged/  Returning  out 
of  the  wood,  they  rode  to  the  army — Cromwell 
with  a  resolution  to  engage  as  soon  as  it  was 
possible,  and  the  other  with  the  design  of  leaving 
the  army  as  soon.  After  the  first  charge,  Lindsey 
deserted  his  post,  and  rode  away  with  all  possible 
speed,  day  and  night,  till  he  came  into  the  county 
of  Norfolk,  to  the  house  of  an  intimate  friend,  one 
Mr.  Thorogood,  minister  of  the  parish. 

"  Cromwell,  as  soon  as  he  missed  him,  sent 
all  ways  after  him,  with  a  promise  of  a  great 
reward  to  any  one  who  should  bring  him  alive  or 
dead.  Thus  far  the  narrative  of  Lindsey  himself; 
but  something  further  is  to  be  remembered  to  com- 
plete and  confirm  the  story. 

"When  Mr.  Thorogood  saw  his  friend  Lindsey 
come  into  his  yard,  his  horse  and  himself  just  tired, 
in  a  sort  of  amaze  he  said,  '  How  now,  Colonel,  wfe 
hear  there  is  likely  to  be  a  battle  shortly !  What, 
fled  from    your  colours V     'A   battle/    said    the 


191 

other,  '  yes,  there  has  been  a  battle,  and  I  am  sure 
the  King  is  beaten:  but  if  ever  I  strike  a  stroke  for 
Cromwell  again,  may  I  perish  eternally ;  for  I  am 
sure  he  has  made  a  league  with  the  devil,  and  the 
devil  will  have  him  in  due  time.'  Then  desiring 
protection  from  Cromwell's  inquisitors,  he  went  in 
and  related  the  whole  story,  and  all  the  circum- 
stances, concluding  with  these  remarkable  words : 
'  That  Cromwell  would  certainly  die  that  day  seven 
years  the  battle  was  fought !' 

"The  strangeness  of  the  relation  caused  Mr. 
Thorogood  to  order  his  son  John  to  write  it  at  full 
length  in  his  common  place  book,  which  I  am 
assured  is  still  preserved  in  the  family  of  the 
Thorogoods." 

In  corroboration  of  the  above  marvellous  narra- 
tive, we  have  also  t€  Minutes  taken  out  of  Mr. 
Secretary  Thurloe's  pocket-book,  by  the  late  Mr. 
John  Milton,  and  given  by  him  to  his  nephew, 
Mr.  John  Phillips."  The  following  is  an  extract : — 
€€  August  17,  1658,  my  master,  the  Protector, 
caused  me  to  take  a  bond  out  of  a  little  ebony 
casket,  and  to  burn  it,  saying,  '  The  completion  of  it 
was  well  nigh  come  to  pass.'  He  died  the  3rd  of  Sep- 
tember following  t" 

We  have  also  a  long  letter  from  his  daughter  to 
her  sister,  the  Lady  Viscountess  of  Falconbridge : 
this  is  part  thereof: — "When  he  and  I  are  only 
sitting  in  his  bed  chamber  together,  he  seems  very 
often  talking  to  a  third  person,  and  cries,  '  Yon  have 
cheated  me;  the  purchase  was  intended  by  me  for 
seven  years  longer :  I  will  not  be  so  served/  And 
again,  sometimes  as  the  fit  strikes  him,  to  divert  the 
melancholy,  he  dines  with  the  officers  at  Hampton 


192 

Court,  and  shows  an  hundred  anti-tricks,  as  throwing 
cushions  at  them,  and  putting  burning  hot  coals  into 
their  pockets  and  boots  !  At  others,  before  he  has 
half  dined,  he  gives  orders  for  a  drum  to  beat,  and 
call  in  the  foot  guards,  like  a  kennel  of  hounds,  to 
snatch  off  the  meat  from  his  table,  and  tear  it  in 
pieces, — with  many  other  unaccountable  whimsies ; 
immediately  after  this,  fear  and  astonishment  sits 
in  his  countenance,  and  not  a  nobleman  approaches 
him  but  he  fells  him  !  Now  he  calls  for  his  guards, 
with  whom  he  rides  out  encompassed  behind  and 
before  for  the  preservation  of  his  highness  ;  and  at 
his  return  at  night,  shifts  from  bed  to  bed  for  fear  of 
surprise." 

The  above  narrative  is  strange,  and  the  marvellous 
part  thereof  seems  to  have  strong  confirmation. 
The  reader,  be  he  sceptical  or  otherwise,  must  use 
his  own  judgment  as  to  the  interpretation  of  the  facts 
above  described,  for  the  narration  is  strictly  copied 
from  the  sources  therein  stated. 

mozart's  ominous  requiem. 

A  short  time  before  the  death  of  Mozart,  the 
great  musician,  a  stranger  of  remarkable  appearance, 
and  dressed  in  deep  mourning,  called  at  his  house 
and  requested  him  to  compose  a  requiem  in  his 
best  style,  for  the  funeral  of  a  person  of  distinction. 

The  sensitive  imagination  of  the  composer  (who 
was  at  that  time  out  of  health)  immediately  seized 
upon  the  idea  that  this  was  an  ivienof  his  own  death 
and  that  the  requiem  would  be  for  himself. 

Whether  or  not  it  was  owing  to  the  nervous 
excitement  under  which  he  laboured  to  complete  the 
task,  it  is  an  extraordinary  fact,  that  the  presentiment 


li)3 


wn  realized,  for  he  died  soon  after,  and  the  muste 
was  actually  performed  at  his  funeral ! 

Who  the  stranger  was  that  ordered  the  requiem 
has  never  been  ascertained :  it  is  singular  he  never 
afterwards  made  his  appearance. 


AFRICAN  NECROMANCY. 


THE  OBEAH   MAN. 

I  was  present,  some  years  ago,  at  the  trial  of  a 
notorious  .Obeah  man,  driven  on  an  estate  in  the 
parish  of  St.  David,  wta,  by  the  overwhelming  in- 
fluence he  had  aequked  over  the  minds  of  his 
deluded  victims,  and  the  more  potent  means  he 
had  at  command  to  accomplish  his  ends,  had  done 
great  injury  among  the  slaves  on  the  property 
before  it  was  discovered. 

One  of  the  witnesses,  a  negro  belonging  to  the 
same  estate,  was  asked,  "  Do  you  know  the  prisoner 
to  be  an  Obeah-man  ?"  "Ees,  massa;  shadow 
catcher,  true."  "  What  do  you  mean  by  a  shadow 
catcher  ?"  "  Him  ha  coffin,  (a  little  coffin  was  pro- 
duced), him  set  for  catch  dem  shadow/  "What 
shadow  do  you  mean  ?"  "  When  him  set  obeah 
for  somebody,  him  catch  dem  shadow  and  dem  go 
dead/"  And  too  surely  they  were  soon  dead,  when 
he  pretended  to  have  caught  their  shadows,  by 
whatever  means  it  was  effected. — Barclay's  Slavery. 


SINGULAR  AUTHENTICATED  APPEAR 

ANCE  OF  A  FAIRY. 

fbr  nearly  half  a  century,  a  weekly  dinner  party 
of  literary  men  took  place  at  the  house  of  Joseph 

B  B 


19* 

test  bookseller  in  St. 


iip 


Court,  and  show?  .„/>  .,         ,,.  .   „   * 

u.  .  . ,  ^i^n  was  the  publisher  of 

cushions  at  t1  ..^  ^ -~    .         r     ,      .* 

A,    .         ,    J  ,-v  /jt  on  Surinam;  and  as  the 

their  pocke'  .  - ,  t*  n***  .  .     ,  '  A. 

,   u>  j-  .   ,  ^ '  ^mith,  he  usually  came  to 

half  dine'         -    v^  //^'  ,  i ,     -..         u    ^ 

11  •    *  *  'w/'w  of  the  weekly  dinner  by  the 

callmt       ,  .^''V77 
snatch         x;V>  /J^*  /*?^' 

piec         '"' j^a "**  ProceedinS at  its usual  rumbling 
^'^  ^fldon,  Captain  Steadman  was  aroused 
to*0**1' \jcotnmon  sound   in  the   air;   and  on 
*  $  rerf  Qf  tjje  coach  door,  his  surprise  was  in- 
lao^tf  the  apparition  of  a  little  fellow,  about 
cret kigh>  dressed  *n  a  toM  suit  of  regimentals, 
*?  *  gold-laced  cocked  hat,  and  a  gold-headed 
""**  striding  along  the  footpath,    "and   raising 
^  \  devil  of  a  sough,*  that  the  Captain's  astonish- 
'  ent  knew  n0  bounds.     He  rubbed  his  eyes,  looked, 
doubted,  and  looked  again ;   but  there,  to  visible 
certainty,  was  the  little  man  striding  away,  swinging 
his  arm,   and   €€ swishing  his  cane"  in  full  force, 
going  at  the  rate  of  nine  miles  an  hour,  and  leaving 
the  coach  far  behind  him.     Away  he  went  at  this 
prodigious  pace  until  he  came  to  a  green  lane  which 
led  to  Holland  House,  up  which  he  whisked  with  the 
greatest  nimbleness.     When  the  coach  came  oppo- 
site to  the  lane,  the  little  man  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen. 

This  was  related  by  Captain  Steadman  at  dinner 
the  very  day  it  occurred,  and  he  continued  to  affirm 
his  belief  in  the  appearance  of  the  goblin,  to  the  day 
of  his  death. 

Crofton  Croker,  Esq.,  author  of  "The  Fairy 
Legends,"  gives  this  relation  on  the  authority  of  the 
late  Mr.  Fuseli,  the  celebrated  artist,  who  was  then 
preterit. 


106 
ANTONELLI ; 

AN  AUTHZNT1CATED  GHOST  STORY. 

Related  by  Goethe,  the  great  German  Author. 

* 

When  I  was  in  Italy,  Antonelli,  an  opera-singer, 
vat  the  favourite  of  the  Neapolitan  public.  Her 
youth,  beauty,  and  talents,  insured  her  applause  on 
the  stage:  nor  was  she  deficient  in  any  quality 
that  could  render  her  agreeable  to  a  small  circle  of 
friends.  She  was  not  indifferent  either  to  love  or 
praise ;  but  her  discretion  was  such  as  to  enable  her 
to  enjoy  both  with  becoming  dignity.  Every  young 
man  of  rank  or  fortune  in  Naples  was  eager  to  be 
numbered  among  her  suitors:  few,  however,  met 
with  a  favourable  reception ;  and  though  she  was, 
in  the  choice  of  her  lovers,  directed  chiefly  by  her 
eyes  and  her  heart,  she  displayed  on  all  occasions 
a  firmness,  and  stability  of  character,  that  never 
feiled  to  engage  even  such  as  were  indifferent  to  her 
favour*.  I  had  frequent  opportunities  of  seeing  her, 
being  on  terms  of  the  closest  intimacy  with  one  of 
her  favoured  admirers. 

Several  years  were  now  elapsed,  and  she  had 
become  acquainted  with  a  number  of  gentlemen, 
many  of  whom  had  rendered  themselres  disgusting 
by  the  extreme  levity  and  fickleness  of  their  manners. 
She  had  repeatedly  observed  young  gentlemen, 
whoee  professions  of  constancy  and  attachment 
would  persuade  their  mistress  of  the  impossibility  of 
their  ever  deserting  her,  withhold  their  protection  in 
those  very  cases  where  it  was  most  needed;  or, 
what  is  still  worse,  incited  by  the  temptation  of 
ridding  themselves  of  a  troublesome  connexion,  she 


196 

had  known  them  give  advice  which  has  entailed 
misery  and  ruin. 

Her  acquaintance  hitherto  had  been  of  such  a 
nature  as  to  leave  her  mind  inactive.  She  aow 
began  to  feel  a  desire  to  which  she  had  before  been 
a  stranger.  She  wished  to  possess  a  friend,  to 
whom  she  might  communicate  her  most  secret 
thoughts;  and  happily,  just  at  that  time,  she  found 
one  among  those  who  surrounded  her,  possessed  of 
every  requisite  quality,  and  who  seemed,  in  every 
respect,  worthy  of  her  confidence. 

This  gentleman  was  by  birth  a  Genoese,  and 
resided  at  Naples  for  the  purpose  of  transacting 
some  commercial  business  of  great  importance,  for 
the  house  with  which  he  was  connected.  In 
possession  of  good  parts,  he  had,  in  addition,  received 
a  very  finished  education.  His  knowledge  was  ex- 
tensive ;  and  no  less  care  had  been  bestowed  on  his 
body  than  on  his  mind.  He  was  inspired  with  the 
commercial  spirit  natural  to  his  countrymen,  and 
considered  mercantile  affairs  on  a  grand  scale.  His 
situation  was,  however,  not  the  most  enviable ;  his 
house  had  unfortunately  been  drawn  into  hazardous 
speculations,  which  were  afterwards  attended  with 
expensive  law-suits.  The  state  of  his  affairs  grew 
daily  more  intricate,  and  the  uneasiness  thereby 
produced  gave  him  an  air  of  seriousness,  which  in 
the  present  case  was  not  to  his  disadvantage  ;  for  it 
encouraged  our  young  heroine  to  seek  his  friendship, 
rightly  judging  that  he  himself  stood  in  need  of  a 
friend. 

Hitherto,  he  had  seen  her  only  occasionally,  and 
at  places  of  public  resort :  she  now,  on  his  first  re- 
quest, granted  him  access  to  her  house :  she  even 


197 

invited'  hini  very  pressingly,  *  and  he  was  .not  remiss 
in  obeying  the  invitation. 
'  She  lost  no  time  in  making  him  acquainted  wkh 
her  wishes,  and  the  confidence  she* 'reposed  in  himl 
He  was  surprised,  aqd  rejoiced  at  the  proposal.  *  Shfe 
was  urgent  in  the  request  that  he  might  always  re- 
main her  friend,  and  never  shade  that  sacred  name 
with  the  ambiguous  claims  of  a  lover.  She  made 
him  acquinted  with  some  difficulties  which  thdn 
perplexed  her,  and  on  which  his  experience  would 
enable  him  to  give  the  best  advice,  and  propose  the 
most  speedy  means  for  her  relief.  In  return  for  this 
confidence,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  disclose  to  her  his 
own  situation;  and  her  endeavours  to  sooth  and 
console  him  were,  in  reality,  not  without  a  beneficial 
consequence,  as  they  served  to  put  him  in  that  state 
of  mind  so  necessary  for  acting  with  deliberation 
and  effect.  Thus  a  friendship  was  in  a  short  time 
cemented,  founded  on  the  most  exalted  esteem,  and 
on  the  consciousness  that  each  was  necessary  to  the 
well-being  of  the  other. 

It  happens  but  too  often,  that  we  make  agreements 
without  considering  whether  it  is  in  our  power  to 
fulfil  their  conditions.  He  had  promised  to  be  only 
her  friend,  and  not  to  think  of  her  as  a  mistress ;  and 
yet  he  could  not  deny  that  he  was  mortifie4  and  dis- 
gusted with  the  sight  of  any  other  visitor.  His 
ill  humour  was  particularly  excited  by  hearing  her, 
in  a  jesting  manner,  enumerate  the  good  or  bad 
qualities  of  some  favourite ;  and  after  having  shown 
much  good  sense  in  pointing  out  his  blemishes, 
neglect  her  friend,  and  prefer  his  company  that  very 
evening. 

it  happened  soon  after  that  the  heart  of  the  fair 


198 

was  disengaged.  Her  friend  was  rejoiced  at  the  dis- 
covery, and  represented  to  her  that  he  was  entitled 
to  her  affection  before  all  others.  She  gave  ear  to 
his  petition,  when  she  found  resistance  was  vain. 
"  I  fear,"  said  she,  "  that  I  am  parting  with  the  most 
valuable  possession  on  earth — a  friend,  and  that  I 
shall  get  nothing  in  return  but  a  lover."  Her  suspi- 
cions were  well  founded :  he  had  not  enjoyed  his 
double  capacity  long,  when  he  showed  a  degree  of 
peevishness,  of  which  he  had  before  thought  himself 
incapable.  As  a  friend,  he  demanded  her  esteem ; 
as  a  lover,  he  claimed  her  undivided  affection ;  and 
as  a  man  of  sense  and  education,  he  expected  ra- 
tional and  pleasing  conversation.  These  complicated 
claims,  however,  ill  accorded  with  the  sprightly  dis- 
position of  Antonelli ;  she  could  consent  to  no 
sacrifices,  and  was  unwilling  to  grant  exclusive 
rights.  She  therefore  endeavoured  in  a  delicate 
manner  to  shorten  his  visits,  to  see  him  less  fre- 
quently, and  intimated  that  she  would  upon  no 
consideration  whatever  give  up  her  freedom. 

As  soon  as  he  remarked  this  new  treatment,  his 
misery  was  beyond  endurance ;  and,  unfortunately, 
this  was  not  the  only  mischance  that  befel  him.  His 
mercantile  affairs  assumed  a  very  doubtful  appear- 
ance ;  besides  this,  a  view  of  his  past  life  called 
forth  many  mortifying  reflections  :  he  had,  from  his 
earliest  youth,  looked  upon  his  fortune  as  inex- 
haustible; his  business  often  lay  neglected,  while 
engaged  in  long  and  expensive  travels,  endeavouring 
to  make  a  figure  in  the  fashionable  world,  far  above 
his  birth  and  fortune.  The  law-suits,  which  were 
now  his  only  hope,  proceeded  slowly,  and  were  con- 
nected with  a  vast  expense.     These  required  his 


199 

presence  in  Palermo  several  times ;  and  while  absent 
on  bis  last  journey,  Antonelli  made  arrangements 
calculated,  <by  degrees,  to  banish  him  entirely  from 
her  house.  On  his  return,  he  found  she  had  taken 
another  house  at  a  considerable  distance  from  his 
own;  the  Marquess  de  S.,  who,  at  that  time,  had 
great  influence  on  plays  and  public  diversions,  visited 
her  daily,  and,  to  all  appearance,  with  great  familia- 
rity. This  mortified  him  severely,  and  a  serious 
illness  was  the  consequence.  When  the  news  of 
his  sickness  reached  his  friend,  she  hastened  to  him, 
was  anxious  to  see  him  comfortable,  and  discovering 
that  he  was  in  great  pecuniary  difficulties,  on  going 
away  she  left  him  a  sum  of  money  sufficient  to  re* 
lieve  his  wants. 

Her  friend  had  once  presumed  to  encroach  on  her 
freedom  ;  this  attempt  was  with  her  an  unpardonable 
offence,  and  the  discovery  of  his  having  acted  so  in- 
discreetly in  his  own  affairs,  had  not  given  her  the 
most  favourable  opinion  of  his  understanding  and 
his  character ;  notwithstanding  the  decrease  of  her 
affection,  her  assiduity  for  him  had  redoubled.  He 
did  not,  however,  remark  the  great  change  which 
had  really  taken  place ;  her  anxiety  for  his  recovery, 
her  watching  for  hours  at  his  bedside,  appeared  to 
him  rather  proofs  of  friendship  and  love,  than  the 
effects  of  compassion ;  and  he  hoped,  on  his  recovery, 
to  be  reinstated  in  all  his  former  rights. 

But  how  greatly  was  he  mistaken !  In  proportion 
as  his  health  and  strength  returned,  all  tenderness 
and  affection  for  him  vanished ;  nay,  her  aversion  for 
him  now  was  equal  to  the  pleasure  with  which  she 
formerly  regarded  him.  He  had  also,  in  conse- 
quence of  these  multiplied  reverses,  contracted  a 


200 

habit  of  ill  huttiour,  of  which  he  was  himself  cot 
aware,  and  which  greatly  contributed  to  alienate 
Antonelli.  His  own  bad  management  .in  business 
he  attributed  to  others ;  so  that,  in  his  opinion,  he 
was  perfectly  justified.  He  looked  upon  himself  as 
an  unfortunate  man,  persecuted  by  the  world,  and 
hoped  for  an  equivalent  to  all  his  sufferings  and  mis- 
fortunes in  the  undivided  affection  of  his  mistress. 

This  concession  he  insisted  on,  the  first  day  he 
was  able  to  leave  his  chamber,  and  visit  her.  He 
demanded  nothing  less  than  that  she  should  resign 
herself  up  to  him  entirely,  dismiss  her  other  friends 
and  acquaintances,  leave;  the  stage,  and  live  solely 
with  him,  and  for  him.  She  showied  him  the  im- 
possibility of  granting  his  demands,  at  first  mildly, 
but  was  at  last  obliged  to  confess  the  melancholy 
truth,  that  her  former  relation  existed  no  more.  He 
left  her,  and  never  saw  her  again. 

He  lived  some  years  longer,  seeing  but  few  ac- 
quaintances, and  chiefly  in  the  company  of  a  pious 
old  lady,  with  whom  he  occupied  the  same  dwelling, 
and  who  lived  on  the  rent  of  an  adjoining  house,  her 
only  income.  During  this  interval,  he  gained  one 
of  his  law-suits,  and  soon  after  the  other;  but  his 
health  was  destroyed,  and  his  future  prospects 
blasted.  A  slight  cause  brought  on  a  relapse  of 
his  former  illness;  the  physician  acquainted  him 
with  his  approaching  end.  He  was  resigned  to  his 
fate,  and  his  only  remaining  wish  was,  once  more  to 
see  his  lovely  friend.  He  sent  the  servant  to  her, 
who,  in  more  happy  days,  had  often  been  the 
bearer  of  tender  messages.  He  prayed  her  to  grant 
his  request:  she  refused.  He  sent  a  second  time 
entreating  most  ardently  she  might  not  be  deaf  to 


201 

his  prayers,  with  no  better  success.  She  persisted 
in  her  first  answer.  The  night  was  already  far  ad* 
vanced,  when  he  sent  a  third  time :  she  showed 
great  agitation,  and  confided  to  me  the  cause  of  her 
embarrassment,  (for  I  had  just  happened  to  be  at 
sapper  at  her  house,  with  the  Marquess,  and  some 
other  friends).  I  advised  her — I  entreated  her,  to 
show  her  friend  this  last  act  of  kindness.  She 
seemed  undecided,  and  in  great  emotion ;  but  after 
a  few  moments  she  became  more  collected.  She 
sent  away  the  servant  with  a  refusal,  and  he  returned 
no  more. 

When  supper  was  over,  we  sat  together  in  familiar 
conversation,  while  cheerfulness  and  good  humour 
reigned  among  us.  It  was  near  midnight,  when 
suddenly  a  hollow,  doleful  sound  was  heard,  like  the 
groaning  of  a  human  being;  gradually  it  grew 
weaker,  and  at  last  died  away  entirely.  A  mo- 
mentary trembling  seized  us  all ;  we  stared  at  each 
other,  and  then  around  us,  unable  to  explain  the 
mystery. 

The  Marquess  ran  to  the  window,  while  the  rest  of 
ns  were  endeavouring  to  restore  the  lady,  who  lay 
senseless  on  the  floor.  It  was  some  time  before  she 
recovered.  The  jealous  Italian  would  scarcely  give 
her  time  to  open  her  eyes,  when  he  began  to  load 
her  with  reproaches.  u  If  you  agree  on  signs  with 
your  friends,"  said  the  Marquess,  *  I  pray  you  let 
them  be  less  open  and  terrifying."  She  replied,  with 
her  usual  presence  of  mind,  that,  having  the  right  to 
see  any  person,  at  any  time,  in  her  house,  she  could 
hardly  be  supposed  to  choose  such  appalling  sounds 
as  the  forerunners  of  happy  moments. 

And  really  there  was  something  uncommonly 

c  c 


?0? 

terrifying  in  the  sound ;  its  slowly  lengthened  vi- 
brations were  still  fresh  in  our  ears.  Antonelli  was 
pale,  confused,  and  every  moment  in  danger  of 
falling  into  a  swoon.  We  were  obliged  to  remain 
with  her  half  the  night.  Nothing  more  was  heard. 
On  the  following  evening  the  same  company  was 
assembled ;  and  although  the  cheerfulness  of  the 
preceding  day  was  wanting,  we  were  not  dejected. 
Precisely  at  the  same  hour  we  heard  the  same 
hollow  groan  as  the  night  before. 

We  had,  in  the  mean  time,  formed  many  con- 
jectures on  the  origin  of  this  strange  sound,  which 
were  as  contradictory  as  they  were  extravagant.  It 
is  unnecessary  to  relate  every  particular  :  in  short, 
whenever  Antonelli  supped  at  home,  the  alarming 
noise  was  heard  at  the  same  hour,  sometimes 
stronger,  at  others  weaker.  This  occurrence  was 
spoken  of  all  over  Naples.  Every  inmate  of  the  house, 
every  friend  and  acquaintance,  took  the  most  lively 
interest ;  even  the  police  was  summoned  to  attend. 
Spies  were  placed  at  proper  distances  around  the 
house.  To  such  as  stood  in  the  street,  the  sound 
seemed  to  arise  in  the  open  air,  while  those  in  the 
room  heard  it  close  by  them.  As  often  as  she 
supped  out  all  was  silent,  but  whenever  she  remained 
at  home,  she  was  sure  to  be  visited  by  her  uncivil 
guest:  but  leaving  her  house  was  not  always  a 
means  of  escaping  him.  Her  talent  and  character 
gained  her  admittance  into  the  first  houses ;  the 
elegance  of  her  manners,  and  her  lively  conversation, 
made  her  everywhere  welcome ;  and,  in  order  to 
avoid  her  unwelcome  visitor,  she  used  to  pass  her 
evenings  in  company  out  of  the  house. 

A  gentleman,  whose  age  and  rank  made  him 


203 

respectable,  accompanied  her  home  one  evening  in 
his  coach.  On  taking  leave  of  him  at  her  door,  the 
well  known  voice  issued  from  the  steps  beneath 
them ;  and  the  old  gentleman,  who  was  perfectly 
well  acquainted  with  the  story,  was  helped  into  his 
coach  more  dead  than  alive. 

She  was  one  evening  accompanied  by  a  young 
singer,  in  her  coach,  on  a  visit  to  a  friend's.  He 
had  heard  of  this  mysterious  affair,  and  being  of  a 
lively  disposition,  expressed  some  doubts  on  the 
subject.  I  most  ardently  wish,  continued  he,  to 
hear  the  voice  of  your  invisible  companion  ;  do  call 
him,  there  are  two  of  us,  we  shall  not  be  frightened. 
Without  reflecting,  she  had  courage  to  summon  the 
spirit,  and  presently,  from  the  floor  of  the  coach, 
arose  the  appalling  sound :  it  was  repeated  three 
times  in  rapid  succession,  and  died  away  in  a  hollow 
moan.  When  the  door  of  the  carriage  was  opened, 
both  were  found  in  a  swoon,  and  it  was  some  time 
before  they  were  restored,  and  could  inform  those 
present  of  their  unhappy  adventure. 

This  frequent  repetition,  at  length,  affected  her 
health ;  and  the  spirit,  who  seemed  to  have  com- 
passion on  her,  for  some  weeks  gave  no  signs  of  his 
presence.  She  even  began  to  cherish  a  hope  that 
she  was  now  entirely  rid  of  him ;  but  in  this  she 
was  mistaken. 

When  the  Carnival  was  over,  she  went  into  the 
country  on  a  visit,  in  the  company  of  a  lady,  and 
attended  only  by  one  waiting  maid.  Night  overtook 
them  before  they  could  [reach  their  journey's  end ; 
and  suffering  an  interruption,  from  the  breaking  ot 
a  chain,  they  were  compelled  to  stop  for  the  night 
at  an  obscure  inn  by  the  road  side.     Fatigue  made 


204 

Antonelli  seek  for  repose  immediately  on  their 
arrival ;  and  she  had  just  lain  down,  when  the 
waiting-maid,  who  was  arranging  a  night  lamp,  in 
a  jesting  tone,  observed,  "  We  are  here,  in  a  manner 
at  the  end  of  the  earth,  and  the  weather  is  horrible — 
will  he  be  able  to  find  us  here  ?"  That  moment  the 
voice  was  heard,  louder  and  more  terrible  than  even 
The  lady  imagined  the  room  filled  with  demons,  and, 
leaping  out  of  bed,  ran  down  stairs,  alarming  the 
whole  house.  Nobody  slept  a  wink  that  night. 
This  was  the  last  time  the  noise  was  heard.  But 
this  unwelcome  visitor  had  soon  another,  and  more 
disagreeable  method  of  notifying  his  presence. 

She  had  been  left  in  peace  some  time,  when  one 
evening,  at  the  usual  hour,  while  she  was  sitting  at 
table  with  her  friends,  she  was  startled  at  the  dis- 
charge of  a  gun,  or  a  well-charged  pistol ;  it  seemed 
to  have  passed  through  the  window.  All  present 
heard  the  report  and  saw  the  flash,  but  on  ex- 
amination the  pane  was  found  uninjured.  The  com- 
pany was  nevertheless  greatly  concerned,  and  it 
was  generally  believed  that  some  one's  life  had  been 
attempted.  Some  present  ran  to  the  police,  while 
the  rest  searched  the  adjoining  houses — but  in  vain; 
nothing  was  discovered  that  could  excite  die  least 
suspicion.  The  next  evening,  sentinels  were  sta- 
tioned at  all  the  neighbouring  windows :  the  house 
itself,  where  Antonelli  lived,  was  closely  searched, 
and  spies  were  placed  in  the  street. 

But  all  this  precaution  availed  nothing.  Three 
months  in  succession,  at  the  same  moment,  the  re- 
port was  heard :  the  charge  entered  at  the  same 
pane  of  glass  without  making  the  least  alteration  in 
its  appearance;    and   what   is   remarkable,    it   in* 


205 

variably  took  place  precisely  one  hour  before  mid- 
night, although  the  Neapolitans  have  the  Italian 
way  of  keeping  time  according  to  which  midnight 
forms  no  remarkable  division.  At  length,  the  shooting 
grew  as  familiar  as  the  voice  had  formerly  been,  and 
this  innocent  malice  of  the  spirit  was  forgiven  him. 
The  report  often  took  place  without  disturbing  the 
company,  or  even  interrupting  their  conversation. 

One  evening,  after  a  sultry  day,  Antonelli,  with- 
out thinking  of  the  approaching  hour,  opened  the 
window,  and  stepped  with  the  Marquess  on  the 
balcony.  But  a  few  moments  had  elapsed,  when 
the  invisible  gun  was  discharged,  and  both  were 
thrown  back  into  the  room  with  a  violent  shock. 
On  recovering,  the  Marquess  felt  the  pain  of  a 
smart  blow  on  his  right  cheek,  and  the  singer,  on 
her  left.  But  no  other  injury  being  received,  this 
event  gave  rise  to  a  number  of  merry  observations. 
This  was  the  last  time  die  was  alarmed  in  her 
bouse,  and  she  had  hopes  of  being  at  last  entirely 
rid  of  her  unrelenting  persecutor,  when,  one  evening, 
riding  out  with  a  friend,  she  was  once  more  greatly 
terrified.  They  drove  through  the  Chiaja,  where 
the  race-favoured  Genoese  had  resided.  The  moon 
shone  bright.    The  lady  with  her  demanded,  "  Is 

not  that  the  house  where  Mr. died  ?"    u  It  is 

one  of  those  two,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,"  replied 
Antonelli.  That  instant  the  report  burst  upon  their 
ears  louder  than  ever :  the  flash  issuing  from  one  of 
the  houses,  seemed  to  pass  through  the  carriage. 
The  coachman  supposing  they  were  attacked  by 
robbers,  drove  off  in  great  haste.  On  arriving  at 
the  place  of  destination,  the  two  ladies  were  taken 
out  in  a  state  of  insensibility. 


206 

This  was,  however,  the  last  scene  of  terror. 
The  invisible  tormentor  now  changed  his  manner, 
and  used  more  gentle  means.  One  evening,  soon 
after,  a  loud  clapping  of  hands  was  heard  under  her 
window.  Antonelli,  as  a  favourite  actress  and 
singer,  was  no  stranger  to  these  sounds:  they 
carried  in  them  nothing  terrifying,  and  they  might 
be  ascribed  to  one  of  her  admirers.  She  paid 
little  attention  to  it:  her  friends,  however,  were 
more  vigilant ;  they  sent  out  spies  as  formerly.  The 
clapping  was  heard,  but  no  one  was  to  be  seen; 
and  it  was  hoped  that  these  mysterious  doings 
would  soon  entirely  cease. 

After  some  evenings  the  clapping  was  no  longer 
heard,  and  more  agreeable  sounds  succeeded. 
They  were  not  properly  melodious,  but  unspeakably 
delightful  and  agreeable :  they  seemed  to  issue 
from  the  corner  of  an  opposite  street,  approach  the 
window,  and  die  gently  away.  It  seemed  as  if  some 
aerial  spirit  intended  them  as  a  prelude  to  some 
piece  of  music  that  he  was  about  to  perform.  These 
tones  soon  became  weaker,  and  at  last  they  were 
heard  no  more. 

I  had  the  curiosity,  soon  after  the  first  disturbance, 
to  go  to  the  house  of  the  deceased,  under  the  pretext 
of  visiting  the  old  lady,  who  had  so  faithfully  at- 
tended him  in  his  last  illness.  She  told  me  her 
friend  had  an  unbounded  affection  for  Antonelli ; 
that  he  had,  for  some  weeks  previous  to  his  death, 
talked  only  of  her,  and  sometimes  represented  her 
as  an  angel,  and  then  again  as  a  devil.  When  his 
illness  became  serious,  his  only  wish  was  to  see  her 
before  his  dissolution, — probably  in  hopes  of  re- 
ceiving from  her  some  kind  expression,  or  prevailing 


207 

on  her  to  give  him  some  consoling  proof  of  her  lore 
and  attachment.  Her  obstinate  refusal  caused  him 
the  greatest  torments,  and  her  last  answer  evidently 
hastened  his  end;  for,  added  she,  he  made  one 
violent  effort,  and  raising  his  bead,  he  cried  out  in 
despair,  "  No,  it  thaii  avail  her  nothing ;  the  avoids 
me,  but  Til  torment  her,  though  the  grave  divide  us!" 
And  indeed  the  event  proved  that  a  man  may  per- 
form his  promise  in  spite  of  death  itself. 


TRADITIONS  AND  SUPERSTITIONS 


OF   FOHMER  TIMf.s 


OP  "TRITHEMIUS  THE  WISE," 

Which  is  said  to  discover  the  Sign  and  Planet  under 
which  any  one  is  born,  and  their  Good  and  Bad 
fortune  in  life,  by  the  Letters  of  their  Name. 


A. 

u 

3 

c  j 

22 

""cT 

TT1 

1    \\ 

7 

e 

20 

N 

0 

" 

12 

li 

J*A 

T 

V 

w 

« 

2 

* 

"9; 

208 


LUMBERS  ANSWERING  TO  THE  PLANET!. 


The  Sun  © 

f  he  Moon  D 

Saturn  h 

Jupiter  % 

Mars  $ 

Venus  ? 
Mercury 


1  or 

2  or 
8 
3 
9 
6 
5 


4 
7 


NUMBERS  ATTRIBUTED  TO  THE  12  CELESTIAL 


SIGNS. 


Aries       t  7 

Taurus    «  6 

Gemini   n  12 

Cancer   ©  5 

Leo         a  1 

Virgo     nR  10 


8  Libra 

9  Scorpio 

4  Sagitarius 

3  Capricornus 

2  Aquarius 

1 1  Pisces 


Among  the  most  curious  of  the  ancient  inventions, 
may  be  classed  the  foregoing  tradition  of  the  old 
astrologers  "for  finding  the  sign  and  star  under 
which  any  one  is  born ;"  which  is  done  as  follows. 

1.      TO    FIND    THE    ALMUTAN    OR    RULING  PLANET 

AT  BIRTH,  BY  NAMES  ALONE. 

Add  together  the  different  sums  answering  to  the 
Utters  of  the  christian  (or  proper)  names,  and  those  of 
each  parent,  as  they  are  set  down  in  the  table  called 
the  "  Planetary  Alphabet,"  and  then  divide  that 
sum  so  found  by  nine;  the  remainder,  which  is  left 
after  such  division,  being  sought  as  above,  directs 
you  to  the  planet  which  is  the  Almutan,  or  planet,  who 
ruled  at  birth,  as  it  is  termed  by  the  old  authors. 
Thus,  if  the  remainder  were  3,  that  planet  would  be 


200 


Jupiter;  if  1  or  4,  the  Am;  if  2  or  7,  the  Moat; 
and  so  of  the  rest :  and  if  nothing  remain  after 
such  division  is  made,  the  number  9,  which  yon 
divided  by,  is  the  symbol  of  the  planet. 

Example.    Name  of  the  party  inquiring,  James  ; 
of  the  parents,  Ann  and  Thomas.  Proceed  thus*— - 


Party. 
J  20 
A  1 
M  23 
E  22 
S      9 


Sam    76 


Parents. 
A      1 
N    12 
N    12 


8am    26 


Parent* 

T 

8 

H 

6 

0 

11 

M 

23 

A 

1 

S 

9 

Sam    68 


Add  these  together. 

75 

25 

58 

Divide  by    9)158 

17,  and  5  remainder. 

t* 
Therefore  5  is  the  planetary  number,  which  gives 

Mercury  (  9  )  for  your  almutan,  or  ruling  star. 
This  is  too  plain  to  need  any  other  example. 

2.  TO  DISCOVER  THE  SION  THAT  PLANET  WAS  IN. 

Add  together  the  different  sums  of  your  own  and 
your  parents9  proper  names,  and  divide  the  sum  by 
12 ;  the  remainder  shows  the  sign  the  planet  was  in. 
Bat  if  there  be  no  remainder,  take  12  itself  for  that 
number. 

V  D 


210 
Example.    Names  as  before. 

Sum. 
Divide  by  12)158 

13,  and  2  remainder. 

No.  2  is  attributed  to  Aquarius  (*:),  therefore  the 
party  in  question  is  born  under  jj  in  **,  (Mercury 
in  Aquarius). 

Note  that  this  rule  is  said  only  to  be  true  when 
the  party  inquiring  is  ignorant  of  their  true  nativity, 
although  it  may  afford  much  amusement  to  any  other 
person  who  is  fond  of  the  superstitions  of  past  ages. 
The  ancient  Chaldee  and  Babylonian  soothsayers, 
and  the  modern  Persian  astrologers,  agreed  unani- 
mously in  drawing  certain  particulars  of  the  future 
fate,  or  the  "  destinie,"  of  mankind,  from  the  letters 
of  their  names  ;  affirming  that  "  all  names  were  to 
be  found  registered  in  the  heavens,  and  to  be  known  by 
the  planets  reigning  at  the  birth  of  man."  Some  of 
the  ancient  Magi  go  even  farther  than  this,  and  de- 
clare that  the  Genius,  or  the  Guardian  Demon, 
which  they  say  every  man  has  allotted  him  from 
the  instant  of  his  emerging  into  life  as  an  animal, 
may  be  likewise  known,  and  his  company  sought,  by 
the  nomenclature  of  the  native  and  his  parents.  It 
is  from  a  scarce  work  in  the  British  Museum,  that 
the  foregoing  is  compiled,  written  in  the  Italian 
language,  and  correctly  translated  with  the  different 
planetary  characters. 

The  signs  and  planets  differ  from  each  other  in 
nature,  influence,  and  description,  as  various  writers 
also  teach.  Of  the  twelve  zodiacal  signs,  some  are 
said  to  be  far  more  fortunate  than  others,  "  in  their 
influence  over  man's  life." 


C$r  ^"ortunatr  0i jpu  wet 


C|>r  Wntartunate  0i$n*  *« 


C|»t  fortunate  planet*  art 
V         Jupiter, 
0         The  Sun, 
9         Venus, 
If         Mercury, 
>         And  the  Moon. 

€%t  WnfortunaU  Vlanrts  arc 
4        Saturn 
*        And  Mara. 

With  respect  to  the  foregoing  traditions,  it  must 
be  well  remembered,  that  to  be  bora  under  a  fortunate 
planet,  and  also  under  a  fortunate  sign,  termed  by 
the  old  astrologers,  "the  top  or  goodly  height*  of 
fortune"  symbolical,  as  it  is  said,  of  "  riches,  money, 
power,  and  divers  happiness,  a  life  of  pleasure, 
fortune,  and  long  in  duration." 

To  be  born  under  an  unfortunate  planet,  and  also 
under  an  unfortunate  sign,  is  what  they  termed 
"  the  evil  demon  of  life,1'  denoting  "  a  fate  or  fortune 


212 

of  poverty,  alms-craving,  wretchedness,  woe,  and 
but  of  few  years." 

Also  to  be  born  under  a  fortunate  planet  and  an 
unfortunate  sign,  denotes,  as  they  say,  "  a  fall 
mean,  and  commixt  fortune, — now  good,  now  ill,  now 
buoyant  upon  Fate's  most  lucky  pinions,  now  cast 
down  and  destitute  of  fellowship;  fortune's  foot- 
ball, and  also  her  favourite,  as  the  stars  may  decree 
in  their  courses ;  of  whom,  know,  O  man !  thou  art 
the  subject,  not  the  ruler/' 

Understand  the  same  of  the  rest.  There  is  much 
of  very  interesting  amusement  in  these  traditions  - 
the  Reader  will  soon  perceive  this,  by  a  few  trials 
upon  himself  or  his  friends 

AN  OLD  LEGEND  OF  THE  TWELVE  SIGNS. 

Aries  is  good, 

Taurus  is  not  so. 

Gemini  and  Cancer  will  make  thee  glad  j 

But  beware  hardly  of  Leo  and  Virgo. 

Libra,  for  friendship,  is  good  j 

Very  hard  is  Scorpio, 

Sagittarye  is  good,  and 

Capricorne  perilous. 

Aquarius  is  good  by  water, 

(Clarke's  proveth  so). 

The  best  of  all  is  Pieces, 

And  most  plenteous. 

Ancient  Manuscript. 

TRADITIONS   RELATING  TO  NECRO- 
MANCY, 

e^r  Enbocatinjj  tfje  ©eaU. 

Translated  from  Cornelius  Agrippa.  (MSS.) 

"  The  souls  of  men  do  still  love  their  relinquished 
bodies  after  death,  as  it  were  a  certain  affinity  ad- 


*••* 


•• 


213 

hering  to  them :  such  as  are  the  souls  of  noxious 
men,  that  have  violently  relinquished  their  bodies, 
and  wanting  a  due  burial,  their  souls  do  still 
wander  in  a  liquid  and  turbulent  spirit  about  their 
dead  bodies ;  for  those  souls,  by  the  known  means, 
by  the  which  heretofore  they  were  conjoined  to 
their  bodies  by  the  like  vapours,  liquors,  and  savours, 
are  easily  drawn  into  their  bodies. 

"  But  the  souls  of  the  dead  are  not  to  be  called  up 
without  blood,  or  by  the  application  of  some  part  of 
the  relict  body ;  therefore,  to  invocate  the  dead,  thou 
shouldest  suffumigate  with  new  blood,  with  the 
bones  of  the  dead,  with  flesh,  eggs,  milk,  honey,  oil, 
&c.  which  do  attribute  to  the  soul  a  means  apt  to 
receive  their  bodies. 

"It  is  requisite  this  work  should  be  done  in 
those  places  where  those  souls  are  most  conversant, 
(xr  for  some  alliance  alluring  those  souls  into  their 
forsaken  bodies,  or  for  some  kinds  of  affection  which, 
in  times  past,  was  impressed  in  them,  in  their  life, 
drawing  the  said  souls  to  certain  places,  things,  or 
persons,  or  for  the  forcible  nature  of  some  place 
fitted  and  prepared  for  to  purge  or  punish  their  souls. 
Which  places  are  known  from  nightly  visions,  pre- 
sentiments, apparitions,  and  such  like  prodigies  seen. 

44 Apt  places  for  these  things  are  churchyards; 
and  better  than  this,  places  where  there  hath  been 
an  execution  of  criminal  j  udgments ;  and  better 
still,  those  places  where  of  late  years  murders  have 
been  done,  and  for  which  no  expiation  has  been 
made,  nor  right  burials  performed.  For  the  ex- 
piation of  those  places  is  a  holy  rite,  duly  to  be 
adhibited  to  the  burial  of  the  bodies,  and  oftentimes 


214 

prohibiteth  the  souls  coming  into  their  bodies,  and 
expelleth  them  far  off  unto  the  places  of  judgment. 
But  the  souls  of  the  dead  are  not  easily  to  be  raised 
up,  except  it  be  the  souls  of  them  whom  we  have 
known  to  be  evil,  or  to  have  perished  by  a  violent 
death,  and  those  whose  bodies  want  a  right  and  due 
burial. 

"  Therefore,  what  place  soever  you  make  use  of, 
take  some  principal  of  the  relict  body  to  make  a  suffumi- 
gation  with,  using  other  rites.  But  those  things 
are  not  always  sufficient  for  the  raising  up  of  souls, 
because  of  an  extra-natural  part  of  reason  and 
understanding,  which  is  above,  and  known  only  to 
the  ruling  powers  of  heaven. 

"The  souls,  moreover,  ought  to  be  allured  by 
celestial  powers  duly  administered,  which  do  move 
the  harmony  of  the  soul,  such  as  are  songs,  sounds, 
inchantments,  or  holy  rites,  prayers,  conjurations, 
exorcisms,  &c." 

The  author,  wishing  to  give  every  possible  eluci- 
dation relative  to  the  extraordinary  superstitions  of 
past  ages,  the  belief  in  which,  it  is  said,  no  longer 
exists,  has  been  indefatigable  in  perusing  the  various 
magical  manuscripts  that  has  fallen  under  his  imme- 
diate notice.  This  he  has  done  the  rather,  because 
hitherto  the  different  authors  who  have  written  upon 
the  theory  of  charms,  enchantments,  spectral  appari- 
tions, and  fairy  lore,  have  merely  confined  their 
labours  to  narrative  alone,  forgetting  that  the  best 
illustration  of  those  subjects  lies  in  the  elucidating 
their  singular  ceremonials. 


215 

A  MAGICAL  EXPERIMENT. 

The  following  strange  experiment  is  copied  from  a 
very  scarce  and  curious  manuscript.  In  the  present 
enlightened  age,  the  rehearsal  thereof  cannot  pos- 
sibly do  any  barm,  as  we  presume  it  would  be 
difficult  to  find  any  one  who  would  go  through  the 
disgusting  process  of  u  raising  the  dead  spirit/9  even 
should  they  place  faith  in  its  performance.  It  is 
word  for  word  with  the  original,  which  was  deemed 
a  most  profound  secret,  in  the  reign  of  Popery  and 
Inquisition;  the  betrayal  of  which  would  have 
subjected  the  party  to  imprisonment  for  life,  or  to  a 
cruel  death. 

€o  Sttbotatt  Slirtf  Conbem  «8ftf)  C&e  Stair. 

"  When  any  one  dieth,  whom  you  would  have  the 
spirit  of  when  dead,  Go  wheare  the  grave  will  be 
made,  and  make  sure  to  take  a  handful  of  the  first 
earth  that  is  digged  when  the  grave  is  first  begun 
to  be  made;  then  rehearsing  the  person's  name 
that  is  dead,  saying  as  followeth  :— 

"  '  O  (N)  I  doe  take  of  the  earth  in  which  thou 
must  enter  into,  that  thy  spirit  may  come  unto  the 
churche  to  speake  unto  me,  and  fulfill  my  will,  and 
that  it  shall  never  have  power  to  rest,  or  be  quiet, 
until  thou  come  to  speak  with  me,  and  fulfill  my 
will  and  commandments/ 

"  Afterwards  goe  into  the  churche  with  the  earthe 
in  thy  hande,  and  there  beholde  untill  the  bodie  of 
the  dead  person  be  brought  into  the  Churche ;  and 
thou  shall  see  a  two-foulde  spirit  cominge.  And 
the  Spirit  of  the  dead  like  Catts.  Then  rehearse 
the  names  of  God  folio winge,  afterwardes  they  will 


216 

departe  and  go  with  the  funerall  to  the  grave.  But 
thou  must  beholde  still,  and  walke  untill  the  corpse 
be  buried,  and  every  one  departed,  and  gone  awaye. 

"  Then  the  Spirit  will  come  to  thee  again,  whom 
doe  not  feare,  for  it  cannot  hurte  thee.  Then  calle 
it  by  the  person's  name  that  is  buried,  and  say  as 
followeth, 

"'  O  (N)  I  doe  conjure  thee  by  the  Passion  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Xt,  and  by  the  virginitie  of  the  sweet 
Virgin  Marye,  and  by  the  twelve  Apostles,  and  by 
the  four  Evangelists,  and  by  all  Martyrs  and  Con- 
fessors, and  by  this  Earthe  which  I  have  in  my 
hande,  which  is  of  the  Earthe  wherein  thy  bodie  is 
buried  in,  O  (N)  and  by  all  the  Constellations  of 
heaven,  and  by  all  the  Virtues  and  Powers,  which 
are  in  heaven  and  earth,  and  by  all  the  Angel  les, 
and  their  falle,  in  which  was  the  cause  of  Man's 
creation,  and  by  the  wordes  which  Christ  spake  as 
he  hung  on  the  Altar  of  the  Crosse,  That  is,  Ely, 
Ely,  Lama-zabacthani,  Semiforas,  that  thou  doe  not 
offende  me  by  any  manner  of  lyinge  or  deceit,  but 
that  thou  declare  the  truth  of  all  things  that  I  shall 
aske  thee,  and  that  thou  doe  come  unto  me  at  all 
times  when  I  doe  calle  thee,  by  this  name,  O  (N). 
And  in  answeringe  me  trulye  with  an  understanding 
voice,  and  true  tongue  or  speeche,  which  I  do  best 
understande,  and  thus  I  doe  bind  thee  and  conjure 
thee  by  all  the  wordes  aforesaid,  and  I  commande 
thee  by  our  Lord  Jesus  Xt,  and  by  his  most  precious 
bloude,  and  by  him  that  will  come  to  judge  the 
quicke  and  thedeade,  and  the  worlde  by  fier.  Amen.' 

"  Then  carry  e  the  earth  in  thy  hande  to  the  grave 
again,  and  say  unto  him,  Go  in  peace,  O  (N),  and 
the  peace  of  God  be  between  me  and  thee,  and  as 


217 

often  as  I  will  speake  with  thee,  be  thou  readie, 
and  when  I  call  thee  by  this  name  O  (N)  with  this 
conjuration,  Go  in  peace,  and  the  crosse  of  Xt. 
be  betweene  me  and  thee,  now?  and  always.  Amen. 
Fiat,  fiat,  fiat/' 

"  Note  firste  of  all  when  the  spirits  do  appeare, 
rehearse  these  names  of  God  followinge  to  bind 
them,  and  thou  shalt  be  safe  from  all  dangers  after- 
wardes.    These  be  the  names  followinge. 

"  Tetragrammaton,  Anronadall,  Draconium,  Al- 
liam,  fortissain,  fortisson,  figa,  Sache,  frege,  Pronis- 
sioni,  Sucreon,  Dracosu,  Eloy,  Sachee,  Emanuell, 
Anathanathout,  Semaforas.  Amen/' 

ANOTHER  STRANGE  NECROMANTIC  SPELL. 

"If  thou  be  disposed  to  speake  or  meete  with 
anye  person  tyvinge  or  deade,  you  muste  goe  into 
the  Churche  yarde  on  ^frydaye  at  night,  at  9  or  10 
of  the  Clocke,  and  walke  rounde  aboute  the  alley 
seven  times,  and  when  you  come  to  a  corner,  you 
muste  stande  still,  and  saye  the  Lordes  prayer,  and 
the  Creede,  and  before  you  have  gone  seven  times 
aboute,  you  shall  meete  them  you  woulde  meete 
withall,  personallye  as  they  were  wont  to  goe.  Finis." 

A  LEGENDARY  CHARM  OR  8PELL,  SAID  BY  OLD 
AUTHORS  TO  BE  PROOF  AGAINST  THIEVES  AND 
ENEMIES. 

ToUmiddmty. 

"  In  the  power  of  God,  I  walke  on  my  waj, 

In  the  meekness  of  Christ,  what  thieves  soever  I  meet, 

The  Holy  Ohest,  to  Day  shell  me  keepe. 

Whether  J  sttt,or  stande,  walk*  or  sleepe, 

The  shlninge  of  the  San, 

Abo  the  taigjrtnesse  of  his  be«oe«,  snail  niebei?*; 

£  E 


218 


The  Jelth  of  Isack  to  daye  shall  me  leade  ; 

The  eoffieringe  of  Jacob  to  daye  be  my  speed. 

The  devotion  of  the  bolye  Lambe,  thieves  shall  lett.+ 

The  strength  of  Jesus'*  blessed  passion  them  besett* 

The  dreade  of  death,  hold  thieves  low, 

The  wisdome  of  Solomon  cause  their  overthrow. 

The  sufferings  of  Job,  set  them  in  holde, 

The  chastitie  of  Danielle,  lett  what  they  would*. 

The  speeche  of  Isac,  their  speeche  shall  spill, 

The  languishing  faith  of  Jherom,  lett  tbem  of  their  will. 

The  flaminge  fier  of  hell  to  bit  them  I  bequeath, 

The  deepnesse  of  the  deepe  ssa,  their  false  hands  for  to  lett* 

The  lighte  of  heaven  against  them  shall  rise. 

The  dreade  of  serpentes  caose  their  hearts  to  grieve. 

The  helpe  of  heaven,  cause  thieves  to  stand  ; 

He  that  made  the  Sun  and  Moon,  bind  them  with  his  band, 

So  sure  as  St.  Bartholomew  bound  the  fiend, 

With  the  hair  of  his  beard. 

With  these  three  secret  names  of  God,  knowne  and  unknowne, 

Miser,  Suell   fetragrammaton.  Christ  Jesus.    Amen." 

From  a  curious  Manuscript. 


MYSTIC    ENCHANTMENT. 

From  the  MSS.  of  Philadelphia. 

The  following  is  related  by  Eckartshausen,  in 
his  German  work,  entitled  "  Magic." 

Eckartshausen  was  aquainted  with  a  Scotsman, 
who  was  not  given  to  the  practice  of  incantations, 
but  merely  acquired  the  knowledge  of  an  ex- 
traordinary process,  which  had  been  communicated 
to  him  by  a  Jew.  He  made  the  experiment  in  com- 
pany with  Eckartshausen ; — it  is  extraordinary,  and 
deserves  to  be  related. 

The  person  who  wishes  to  see  a  particular 
spirit,  (either  of  a  living  or  dead  person),  must,  for 
some  days  previous,  undergo  a  state  of  physical  and 
spiritual  preparation.     Very  remarkable  conditions 

•  "  Lett,"  old  word ;  to  oostruct,  to  hindsr. 


219 

and  correspondencies  seem  required  between  the 
person  who  wishes  to  see  the  spirit,  and  the  spirit 
itself,  (conditions  we  can  only  explain  by  ad- 
mission that  a  dawning  of  the  spiritual  world  begins 
on  our  side  of  the  grave).  When  these  preparations 
are  completed,  a  fumigation  from  certain  ingredients 
(the  knowledge  of  which  Mr.  E.  very  properly, 
from  a  fear  of  their  abuse,  declines  to  communicate) 
b  made  in  a  room.  The  vapour  forms  itself  into  a 
tigurt,  which  is  the  perfect  resemblance  of  the  person 
the  operator  wishes  to  see!  Magic  lights,  optical 
deceptions,  &c,  are  here  out  of  the  question.  The 
vapour  produces  a  human  figure,  resembling 
him  we  desire  to  see  I  The  following  are  Eckarts- 
hausen's  own  words : — 

"  Some  time  after  the  departure  of  the  foreigner 
(the  Scotsman),  I  repeated  the  experiment  with  one 
of  my  friends — he  saw  and  felt  as  I  did  myself. 
The  observations  we  made  were  these : — as  soon  as 
the  ingredients  were  thrown  into  the  chafingdish, 
a  whitish  figure  forms  itself,  and  seems  of  natural 
size  to  hover  just  above  the  chafingdish.  It 
possesses  a  most  perfect  resemblance  with  the  person  to 
be  seen,  only  that  the  figure  is  ashy  pale.  Upon  ap- 
proaching the  figure,  a  considerable  resistance  is 
felt,  something  like  walking  against  a  strong  wind. 
If  it  is  spoken  to,  no  distinct  recollection  remains  of 
what  has  been  said ;  and  when  the  phantom  dis- 
appears, it  seems  like  awakening  from  a  dream. 
The  head  is  stupified,  and  there  is  a  great  tightness 
felt  in  the  lower  parts  of  the  body.  It  is  singular, 
that  the  same  appearance  presents  itself  upon  being 
m  the  dark,  or  looking  afterwards  upon  dark  bodies. 


220 

"The  unpleasantness  of  this  sensation  was 
such  that,  however  solicited,  I  was  unwilling  to 
repeat  the  experiment.  A'  young  gentleman  came 
to  me,  and  positively  insisted  upon  seeing  the  ap- 
parition. As  he  was  a  man  of  a  delicate  constitu- 
tion and  lively  imagination,  I  hesitated,  and  con- 
sulted an  experienced  physician,  to  whom  I 
discovered  the  entire  secret.  He  was  of  opinion 
that  the  narcotics  used  must  powerfully  excite  the 
imagination,  and  might,  under  certain  circumstances, 
be  very  dangerous.  He  thought  the  preparatory 
forms  increased  the  power  of  their  operation,  and 
advised  me  to  make  trial  of  their  effect  in  very  small 
portions,  without  previous  preparations. 

"  This  I  did,  one  day  after  dinner,  when  this 
gentleman,  who  dined  with  me,  was  present.  The 
materials  were  all  thrown  into  the  ehafingdish, 
when  certainly  ajigure  showed  itself;  but  a  shud- 
dering, which  I  was  unable  to  controul,  overcame 
me.  I  was  obliged  to  leave  the  room  for  three 
hours;  I  was  extremely  ill,  and  had  the  figure 
constantly  before  me.  By  the  use  of  a  great  deal  :J 
of  vinegar,  which  I  inhaled,  and  drank  with  water,  - 
I  recovered,  towards  the  evening ;  yet,  for  three  * 
weeks  afterwards,  I  felt  a  loss  of  strength :  and  what  ' ; 
is  most  singular,  is,  that,  even  to  this  time,  when  I  '- 
think  on  the  •  circumstance,  and  look  upon  a  dark  ■• 
body,  a  lively  representation  of  the  ashy-pale  figure  ' 
presents  itself  before  me.  Since  that  time  (add*  he)  ^ 
I  have  never  ventured  to  repeat  the  experiment."        < 

The  following  note  is  added  by  a  lady  of  H 
erudition,  who  had  read  Eckartshausen's  work,  and  %\ 
remembers  these   particulars,   viz. — "  that  certain  i  i 


*a 


221 

previous  forms  and  conditions  are  required  before 
the  operation  takes  place ;  upon  omission  of  these, 
the  operator  is  threatened  with  either  loss  of  health, 
insanity,  or  the  most  serious  derangement  of  his 
temporal  circumstances.  The  particulars  I  do  not 
remember  distinctly,  but  I  think  three  days'  utter 
seclusion  is  commanded.  During  these  days,  the 
operator  must  employ  himself  in  devotional  exercises, 
he  must  often  turn  his  thoughts  to  the  subject  he 
wishes  to  see,  must  have  a  particular  regard  to  him 
in  his  prayers,  must  recollect  and  dwell  on  his  good 
qualities,  and  be  very  certain  that  no  impure  view 
mixes  with  his  wish  to  see  him.  The  subject  must 
have  committed  no  crime ;  and  if  a  living  person,  he 
must  have  no  wound  in  any  part  of  his  body.  This 
last  condition  is  remarkable ;  the  tendency  of  the 
other  is  obvious,  when  it  is  considered  that  they 
came  from  Arabia  (where  the  Jew  first  found  the 
secret),  and  therefore  originate  with  a  people  not 
professedly  Christian.  I  think  it  will  be  allowed 
that  their  piety  is  worthy  notice." 

Mr.  E.,  in  his  second  volume,  says  that  he 
may  venture  to  give  the  fumigating  ingredients 
without  fear,  as  the  success  of  the  experiment 
depends  upon  their  exact  proportions  of  Opium, 
Saffron,  Aloes,  Henbane,  Nightshade,  Poppy-seed,  and 
Hemlock. 

I  must  here  regret  that  the  author  did  not 
communicate  whether  his  own  experiments  were 
made  with  a  living  subject,  and  what  the  state  of 
that  person  might  be  during  the  operation. 

From  the  same  hand,  Eckartshausen  received 
another  fumigation,  which,  used  in  a  church-yard, 
would  bring  into  visible   existence  the  spirits  of 


222 

the  persons  there  interred ;  and  an  ointment  which, 
upon  being  applied  upon  different  parts  of  the  body, 
would  transport  the  spirit  into  any  part  of  the  world 
These,  however,  were  composed  of  narcotics  of  such 
intense  and  fearful  potency,  that  the  author  states 
he  never  considered  it  safe  to  use  them. 

4 

Communicated  by  Philadelphia* 

A   LEGENDARY  CHARM,    USED  BY  WITCHES  IN 
GATHERING  HERBS  FOR  MAGICAL  PURPOSES. 

"  HaU  to  thee,  holy  herb, 
Growing  on  the  ground, 
AU  on  mount  Calrary 
First  wast  thou  found. 
Thou  art  gooa  for  many  sores 
And  healeth  many  a  wound ; 
In  the  name  of  Saint  Jesu  I 
I  take  thee  from  the  ground." 

Taken  from  an  old  blactc  letter  missal,  in  trie  possession 
of  the  "Mercuru,"  which  also  states,  that  "the 
muttering  of  this  charm,  while  concocting  drugs  or 
simples,  balsams  or  elixirs,  contributes  marvellously 
to  their  efficacy/' 


223 


THE    ASTROLOGER. 


No  V 


THE  NATIVITY  OF  COBOBB  THE 


Communicated  by  a  Corretpondent 


224 
to  the  editor  of  the  "familiar  astrolog1r.* 

Sir, 

Actuated  by  a  wish  for  the  extension  of  the 
knowledge  of  the  sublime  science  we  mutually 
profess,  and  for  the  confirmation  of  its  truth  in  the 
sceptical  minds  of  the  present  age,  I  send  you  what 
I  have  every  reason  to  believe  is  the  genuine*  nativity 
of  William  Corder,  lately  convicted  and  executed  for 
the  murder  of  Maria  Marten 

From  your  perusal  of  the  Trial,  you  will  doubtless 
recollect  a  present  of  a  copy  of  Blair's  Sermons, 
made  to  him  by  his  unfortunate  wife  on  his  com- 
pleting his  24th  year.  In  the  first  page  is  written 
the  cause  and  date  of  presentation,  which  event  is 
described  as  taking  place  on  the  22d  of  June,  1828. 

Upon  reference,  I  find  the  sun  posited  in  the 
same  degree  of  the  sign  Cancer  on  the  22d  of 
June,  1804,  the  given  day  of  birth,  and  the  22d  of 
June,  1828.  From  these  data,  I  set  to  work  to 
discover,  from  the  planetary  positions  and  aspects, 
indications  of  the  afflicting  and  violent  termination 
of  the  native's  existence  that  has  recently  taken 
place  ;  and  I  flatter  myself  you  will  agree  with  me 
in  opinion,  that  my  study  on  the  occasion  has  been 
rewarded  by  eliciting  the  true  time  of  birth.  The 
following  powerful  aspects  and  positions  were  in 
operation  in  the  radix,  viz. : — 

].     The  ascendant,   Hyleg,  being  via  combusta 

and  opposed  by  $  in  his  detriment  from  the  seventh 

house,  and  also  conjoined  with  Caput  Algol.    Also 

the  a  of  &  and  ? ,  and  semiquartile  of  ?   and   h  ; 

D  in  semiquartile  to  the  ascendant.     The  ©  located 


225 

in  the  8th  in  o  of  i,  and  semiquartile  of  * ,  as  well 
as  in  semiquartile  to  g . 

2.  The  >  in  $  to  ©,  and  quartiled  by  *>  from 
the  10th  house  and  human  signs. 

3.  9 ,  Lord  of  the  8th  house,  (the  house  of  death), 
in  an  airy  sign,  on  the  cusp  of  the  8th,  in  parallel 
with  tf  and  within  orbs  of  Vs  sesquiquadrate  rays. 

4.  2  9  Lady  of  the  7th,  squared  by  ;,  whose 
malignant  position  and  influence  is  greatly  increased 
by  his  sesquiquadrate  aspect  to  h . 

6.  The  a  of  tf  and  y,  both  dignified,  gave  the 
native  much  subtility  and  deceit,  as  Were  sufficiently 
exemplified,  but  attended  with  great  eccentricity. 

6.  h  to  the  mzdheaven,  was  the  direction  for  hi* 
tragical  but  well  merited  end 

As,  from  your  acquaintance  with  the  best  authors 
on  the  science,  and  your  own  experience,  you  will 
need  no  explanation,  I  shall  make  but  few  com- 
ments, leaving  you  to  form  your  own  judgment 
thereon,  which  I  have  l'ttle  doubt  will  coincide 
with  my  own,  as  to  the  violent  indications  of  an  un- 
timely end  and  most  turbulent  life.  There  is  one 
very  remarkable  position  and  aspect  which  I  consider 
Angularly  curious,  viz.,  t  in  the  7th  house  in  his 
detriment,  opposed  to  the  Asc.  and  squaring  $ ,  Lady 
of  the  7th  in  the  Moon's  southern  node  (the  dragon's 
tail) ;  also  the  position  of  b  in  the  10th,  in  a  human 
sign,  afflicting  both  luminaries;  and  also  the 
ascendant  and  9 ,  Lord  of  the  house  of  death,  on 
the  cusp  of  that  house  in  sesquiquadrate  to  % . 

There  are  two  positions,  also,  which  I  think  tend 
much  to  authenticate  the  correctness  of  the  figure. 
Saturn,  Lord    of   the    third   house  (or  house  of 
\  rethren),  posited  in  the  10th  'or  brother's  eighth), 

F  F 


226 

also  the  Sun  in  the  eighth,  and  afflicted  there :  these 
are  certainly  indicative  of  the  death  that  we  are  aware 
had  previously  taken  place  in  his  family.  The 
Lady  of  the  7th  in  the  9th,  implies  a  wife  obtained 
at  a  distance,  or  by  a  journey,  (which  is  a  known 
fact) ;  also  that  she  should  receive  detriment  by 
him,  is  deduced  from  the  square  aspect  of  Mars  to 
Venus,  one  of  her  significators ;  and  the  husband's 
significator,  a  malefic,  hurt  fully  posited  in  her 
ascendant.  Venus  in  Leo,  in  the  tail,  and  squared 
by  Mars,  from  the  house  of  Venus,  is  strongly  cor- 
roborative of  the  indulgence  of  those  illicit  desires 
which  brought  the  unfortunate  Maria  to  such  an 
untimely  and  tragical  death. 

C.  I.  T. 
Manchester,  Aug.  21, 1828. 

There  are  but  few  remarks  needful,  after  the 
skilful  elucidation  of  our  correspondent.  There 
seems  little  reason  to  doubt  the  authenticity  of  the 
figure ;  bat  whether  or  not  the  hour  anda  minute 
be  correct,  the  day  of  the  murderer's  birth  we 
know  to  be  so ;  and  the  quartile  of  the  Moon  with 
Saturn,  from  common  malignant  signs,  the  quartile 
of  Mars  to  Venus  from  faced  signs,  the  sesquiquadrate 
of  Mercury  and  Jupiter,  and  the  sesquiquadrate  of 
the  Moon  and  Mars, — were  quite  sufficient  to  give 
full  astrological  avouchment  of  the  disastrous  par 
ticulars  — -Eo. 


227 


tifr  9l0tv*I*gtr 

AT  THE  FUNERAL  OF  THE  LAMENTED 


GABb  MAHIA  VON 


A  :  i  ^  : 


TUfleJebedl  aadtbattlog  of  death  b  o'er, 
And  Us  para  Spirit  *seke  that  heavenly  shora 
Where  sorrow  boa  ao  places  where  only  joy 
Aod  peace  an  known,  ud  felt  wttboot  alloy. 
Hit  m  bo  conunon  mind,  and  there  ahoald  be 
Noeonunoa  tomb  to  giaee  blsaMsiory* 
The  greet,  the  good,  who  perish  la  their  prfcn*, 
Become  the  lasting  creditors  of  time 
And  we  Btaet  reader  to  the  mighty  dead, 
The  debt  we  owe  them  for  the  Joy  they  abed. 

It  was  on  the  21st  of  June,  1826,  that  the  earthly 
remains  of  the  lamented  Carl  Maria  Von  Weber, 
the  celebrated  author  of  Der  FraUhutx  and  Oberon, 
were  committed,  with  the  funeral  solemnity  of  the 
Catholic  Churchf  to  the  silent  sepulchre.  On  the 
morning  of  that  day,  I  had,  by  appointment,  met 
my  friend  Captain  B  on  the  Royal   Ex- 

change, having  sold  a  few  thousands  of  consols  for 
die  following  July  account,  which,  although  I  am 
naturally  averse  to  "  high  play  "  of  any  description, 
I  had  been  induced  to  do  at  the  persuasion  of  a 
friend,  chiefly  to  convince  an  unbeliever  in  celestial 
lore  of  the  ample  means  possessed  by  an  Astrologer 
far  increasing  the  store  of  this  world's  wealth,  even 
where  the  chances  are  so  much  against  the  specula- 
tor, as  they  proverbially  art,  among  the  bulls  and 
bears  of  the  Stock  Exchange. 

■the  day  was  unusually  gloomy;  and  although 
it  was  at  that  season  of  the  year  when  even  the 
streets  of  the  metropolis  assume  a  gayer  appearance 
than  usual,  from  the  general  serenity  of  the  atmo- 


228 

sphere,  yet  the  rack  of  drifting  fleeces,  as  they  shot 
swiftly  through  the  azure  vault  above,  were  oc- 
casionally tinged  with  crimson,  and  anbn  skirted 
with  a  lurid  and  lowering  hue, — the  general  fore- 
runners of  a  rainy  day.  As  the  morning  advanced, 
the  sky  would  for  an  instant  become  clearer ;  but 
the  too  sudden  bursting  of  the  solar  rays  from  the 
accumulating  masses  of  dense  ana  sombre  clouds, 
told  plainly  to  the  observing  eye,  that  these  ephemeral 
indications  of  serenity  were  even  like  the  gay  and 
gaudy  sunshine  of  man's  transitory  life, — most 
liable,  alas  !  to  storms  and  tempests ! 

While  my  friend  and  myself  were  busily  con- 
versing upon  the  already  palpable  effects  bf  Saturn's 
celestial  progress  through  the  constellation  Gemini, 
the  ascendant  in  astrological  lore  of  the  proud 
metropolis,  which  reared  its  walls  and  mansions 
around  us,  proclaiming  itself  the  mart  of  Europe, 
and  mistress  of  the  civilized  world ;  and  while  we 
were  ever  and  anon  breaking  through  the  thread  of 
our  discourse,  to  remark  upon  -the  motley  assemblage 
of  merchants,  Jews,  jobbers,  and  all  the  usual 
corollaries  of  a  commercial  life,  which  passed  in 
quick  succession  before  us — some  of  them  most 
eagerly  disseminating  the  political  news  of  the  day, 
and  commenting  upon  the  sudden  decline  in  the 
price  of  the  public  securities,  through  the  defalcation 
in  the  revenue,  the  warlike  news  from  India,  the 
revolt  of  the  Janissaries  in  Constantinople,  and  such 
like  unexpected  events,  which  myself  had  foreseen 
and  predicted  were  certain  to  occur,  from  the  celestial 
agency  that  the  peculiar  positions  of  the  stars  evinced* 
While  we  were  remarking  upon  the  wonderful  ad- 
vantages which  astrology  gave  even  to  the  merchant 


229 

or  tke  speculator,  over  the  mere  man  of  the  world, 
who  had  his  business,  as  it  were,  at  "  his  fingers' 
ends,"  and  were  moralizing  upon  the  variety  of  those 
diversified  scenes  that  daily  occur  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  Royal  Exchange,  we  were  casually  informed  that 
the  cavalcade  and  procession  of  Weber's  funeral 
was  on  its  way  to  the  chapel  in  Moorfields. 

Laying  aside  every  other  engagement,  we  im- 
mediately hastened  to  the  place — resolved  to  wit* 
ness  the  last  honours  paid  to  the  late  illustrious  son 
of  Apollo,  whose  sublime  enchanting  strains  of 
unearthly  music  had  so  frequently  engaged  our  most 
delighted  attention,  as  well  in  the  theatre,  the  throne 
of  his  fame,  as  in  the  retirement  of  the  closet. 

The  atmosphere,  which,  a  short  time  previous, 
had  appeared  as  if  brightening  up  into  a  partial 
sunshine,  now  seemed  entirely  changed — "  a  mist 
hung  hovering  in  the  air,"  and  the  sky  looked 
unusually  fitful  and  gloomy.  As  we  proceeded 
towards  the  scene  of  woe,  we  were  frequently 
interrupted  by  groups  of  pedestrians  who  pursued  the 
same  path;  but,  on  arriving  at  the  gates  of  the 
Catholic  Chapel,  in  Moorfields,  the  assembled  throng 
was  immense,  and  it  was  with  great  difficulty  we 
penetrated  the  crowded  but  sorrowful  multitude,— 
so  thickly  were  they  congregated. 

On  entering  the  walls  of  this  beautiful  edifice, 
die  awful  sublimity  and  mournfully  interesting 
nature  of  the  melancholy  spectacle  which  was 
presented  to  our  view,  nearly  overpowered  our 
feelings.  In  the  centre  aisle,  raised  on  trestles, 
surmounted  by  a  canopy  of  sable  plumes,  which 
were  ever  and  anon  waving  and  nodding  as  if  in 
mockery  of  mortality,  surrounded  by  the  bearers  of 


230 

incense,  the  officiating  priests,  and  accompanied  by 
the  whole  of  the  sad,  yet  gorgeous,  funeral  pomp  of 
the  ennobled  dead,  lay  the  coffin  of  Weber  I  The 
rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  Roman  Church  are  at 
all  times  most  peculiarly  grand  and  imposing ;  but 
on  the  present  mournful  occasion  they  were  infinitely 
more  so  than  upon  ordinary  occasions;  added  to 
which,  the  vocal  choir,  who  chanted  forth  the 
solemn,  yet  melodious  dirge  of  death,  with  har- 
monious voices,  were  of  the  Irst  order,  as  the  most 
celebrated  professors  of  English  song,  residing  in 
the  metropolis,  had  seized  the  occasion  of  paying 
a  willing  tribute  to  the  departed  genius  of  the  gifted 
deceased. 

During  the  solemnization  of  high  mass,  the 
feelings  ol  the  assembled  multitude  were  partially 
quiescent,  as  if  meditating  upon  the  consolations 
which  religion  offered,  even  beyond  the  grave, 
where  ail,  alas !  is  darkness.  But  these  feelings  of 
partial  repose  on  unearthly  comforts  were  soon 
aroused  in  the  numerous  assembly  by  the  deep 
and  swelling  tone  of  the  funeral  anthem.  And  those 
feelings  of  sorrow  were  felt  by  none  more  deeply 
than  myself.  Born  with  a  soul  susceptible  to  the 
most  lively  degree  of  joy  and  sorrow,  and  at  a  time 
when  Venus,  the  star  of  music  and  poetry,  the  fair 
planet  of  genius,  claimed  powerful  preeminence 
over  my  horoscope  ;  that  star  has  never  ceased  to 
endue  my  mind  with  a  love  of  the  solemn  and  the 
pathetic,  which  only  those  who  have,  as  Shakspeare 
expresses  it,  "  music  in  their  souls,"  can  describe. 
And  such  only  can  sympathize  truly  with  my 
feelings,  as  the  dirge  of  death,  beginning  at  first  in 
low  and  solemn  sounds,  now  swelled  forth  in  loud 


231 

and  awful  tones,  deep  and  intoned,  like  Nature's 
waitings,  and  anon  with  a  sweep  of  mournful  cadence, 
became  lost  to  the  ear ;  while  again  bursting  foith,  as 
it  were,  with  apparent  fury,  scornful  of  controul,  it 
rose  in  notes  of  rapture,  as  if  directing  the  soul  to 
heaven  and  disdaining  the  earth,  till  it  vanished  at 
length  in  a  swift  full  sound  of  ecstasy.  Such  are  the 
well  known  qualities  of  Mozart's  celebrated  Requiem 
— well  known*  to  the  musical  world  for  many  sad  re- 
collections, and  which  was,  perhaps,  never  better 
performed  than  on  that  day  of  sadness.  Sob  after 
sob  announced  the  stifled  but  poignant  sorrows 
which  pervaded  the  immense  assemblage,  as  the 
sepulchral  requiem  was  chanted ;  and  till,  amidst 
a  thousand  spectators,  scarcely  a  tearless  eye  was 
visible  1 

At  length  it  ceased  ;  when,  with  slow  and  silent 
steps,  the  coffin,  attended  by  the  officiating  priests, 
ceremoniously  commending  the  soul  of  the  deceased 
to  the  protection  of  heaven,  with  religious  awe,  and 
surrounded  by  the  pompous  but  awful  insignia  of 
death,  was  bore  out  of  the  chapel  to  the  vaults 
beneath.  It  is  a  singular  fact,  that  at  the  moment 
the  receptacle  of  mortality  descended  the  steps  of  its 
last  abode,  the  evil  and  malevolent  star  of  Saturn 
culminated  in  the  zenith,  and  crossed  the  meridian 
of  London,  as  if  it  were  revelling  in  the  woe  of 
mankind,  and  rejoicing  in  the  sorrow  of  thousands. 
My  astrological  Mends,  by  referring  to  their  e  phemeris 
for  noon  day,  on  the  21st  June,  1826,  will  observe 
tins  singular  and  remarkable  agreement  between 
celestial  and  terrestrial  agency,  even  where  the 
objects  are  death  and  the  grave ! 

Arrived  in  the  vault,  and  deposited  on  its  last 


232 

and  final  resting  place,  there  lay  the  coffin,  and 
mortal  remains  of  the  inimitable  Weber — of  him 
who  had  enchanted  thousands  with  his  immortal 
productions — whose  genius,  as  €t  a  living  fire,"  con- 
sumed its  votary,  ere  age  had  tinted  his  raven  locks. 
There  lay  the  coffin,  surrounded  by  many  noble, 
and  many  illustrious  dead ;  but  none  more  truly 
noble,  more  truly  illustrious,  more  known  to  fame, 
more  worthy  of  funeral  honours,  and  a  lasting  re- 
nown, than  himself !  Scarcely  had  the  coffin  been 
deposited  in  the  vaults,  when  the  rain,  which  the 
clouds  of  the  morning  portended  as  concentrating, 
descended  in  copious  showers  :  the  mist  which  had 
hovered  in  the  air,  as  if  unwilling  that  the  day 
should  prove  cheering  even  ir  appearance,  became 
suddenly  the  precurser  of  a  storm ;  and,  as  numbers 
remarked,  the  very  elements  seemed  to  weep  for  the 
wreck  of  genius.  At  this  moment,  the  scene  was 
sublimely  and  awfully  picturesque.  The  interest 
which  attended  the  last  rites  of  humanity,  had 
descended  to  the  sepulchre,  even  to  the  last  'gloomy 
mansions  of  the  dead,  which  were  quickly  filled 
with  weeping  spectators.  The  place  was  entirely 
lit  by  the  glare  of  funeral  torches,  that  threw  their 
lengthened  shadows  to  the  extremity  of  the  vaults, 
which,  however,  were  so  ample  in  extent,  that  only 
a  partial  view  could  be  discovered  of  the  numerous 
coffins  which  lay  mouldering  therein.  Piled  heaps 
on  heaps,  a  sad  memento  of  human  frailty;  yet 
their  flickering  lights  imparted  a  melancholy  hue  of 
grandeur  to  the  scene,  which  could  scarcely  be  con- 
ceived by  those  who  are  unused  to  such  spectacles. 
And  it  was  while  reclining  over  the  coffin  of  the 
illustrious  dead,  and  gazing  upon  the  trophie*  of  the 


233 

11  fell  destroyer,"  that  I  remarked  to  my  friend, 
"How  infinitely  more  imposing,  and  worthy  at* 
tendon,  was  the  sad  and  awful  solemnity  of  the  scene 
around  us,  than  aught  which  the  pomps  and  levities 
of  the  "  fashionable  world/*  with  all  its  boasted  re- 
finement and  splendour,  its  gaieties,  its  heartlessness, 
an4  its  numerous  vagaries,  could  produce !  Yes, 
exclaimed  I,  "even  in  death  does  Weber  triumph  1 

PEACE  BE  TO  HIS  ASHES  1 

And  may  his  name  and  memory  ever  be  held  in  as 
much  veneration  as  it  is  by 

•THE  ASTROLOGER  OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY.19 


n 


4RVELL0US  PROPERTIES  OP  HERBS, 
STONES,  ROOTS,  &c. 

To  see  Spirits. 

*  Take  the  juice  of  Dill,  Vervaine,  and  St.  John's 
jresse,  (St.  John's  wart),  and  anoint  your  eyes  for 
three  days,  and  you  shall  see  spirits  visible" — Old 
AJSS. 

SINGULAR    PROPERTY    OF   PENNYROYAL. 


"  In  winter,  when  all  things  wither  and  drie  up, 
Pennyroyal  flourisheth  " 

VIRTUES  OF  THE  MANDRAKE. 

i  

"  Whosoever  can  get  any  of  this  rare  plant,  shall 
have  continued  joy  without  sorrow,  wealth  without 
want,  and  be  warded  from  all  evil  and  sudden  death, 

o  o 


234 


or*  mischances.  He  shall  never  be  robbed,  nor 
killed,  but  overcome  all  his  enemies,  in  what  nature 
soever :  this  is  clearly  proved. " — MSS.  Key  to 
Agrippa. 


THE  FAMOUS  ELIXIR  OF  LIFE. 

Prepared  from  Balm. 

"  In  the  proper  season  of  the  year,  when  the  herb 
is  at  its  full  growth,  and,  consequently,  its  juices  in 
their  whole  vigour,  gather  at  the  fittest  time  of  the  day 
a  sufficient  quantity  of  balm,  wipe  it  clean,  and 
pick  it;  then  put  it  in  a  stone  mortar,  and,  by 
laborious  beating,  reduce  it  into  a  thin  pap 

"  Take  this  glutinous  and  odoriferous  substance 
and  put  it  into  a  bolt-head,  which  is  to  be 
hermetically  sealed,  and  then  place  it  in  a  dunghill, 
or  some  gentle  heat  equivalent  thereto,  where  it 
must  digest  for  forty  days. 

"When  it  is  taken  out,  the  matter  will  appear 
clearer  than  ever,  and  have  a  quicker  scent.  Then 
separate  the  grosser  parts,  which,  however,  are  not 
to  be  thrown  away.  Put  this  liquid  into  a  gentle 
bath,  that  the  remaining  gross  particles  may  per- 
fectly subside.  In  the  meantime,  dry  calcine,  and 
extract  thejixed  salt  of  the  grosser  parts,  separated 
as  before  mentioned,  which  fixed  salt  is  to  be  joined 
to  the  liquor  when  filtrated. 

"  Next  take  sea  salt,  well  purified,  melt  it,  and, 
by  setting  it  in  a  cold  place,  it  will  run,  and  become 
clear  and  limpid.  Take  equal  parts  of  both  liquors, 
mix  them  thoroughly,  and  having  hermetically 
sealed  them  in  a  proper  glass,  let  them  be  carefully 
exposed  to  the  .un,  in  the  warmest  season  of  the 


*      235 

year,  for  about  six  weeks.  At  the  end  of  this 
space,  the  prhnum  ens  of  the  balm  will  appear 
swimming  on  the  top  like  a  bright  green  oil,  which 
is  to  be  carefully  separated  and  preserved.  Of  this 
oil,  a  few  drops  taken  in  a  glass  of  wine  for  several 
days  together,  will  bring  to  pass  those  wonders 
that  are  reported  of  the  Countess  of  Desmond  and 
others ;  for  it  will  entirely  change  the  juices  of  the 
human  body,  reviving  the  decaying  frame  of  life,  ana 
restoring  the  spirits  of  long  lost  youth" 

The  author  who  records  this  curious  and  wonder- 
fid  discovery,  remarks,  "  If  after  the  medicine  is 
thus  prepared,  any  doubt  be  had  of  its  efficacy,  or 
of  its  manner  of  operation,  let  a  few  drops  be  given 
every  day  on  raw  meat  to  any  old  dog  or  cat,  and  in 
less  than  a  fortnight,  by  the  changing  of  their  coats 
and  other  incontestable  changes,  the  virtue  of  this 
preparation  will  sufficiently  appear/' 

This  is  the  preparation  of  balm  which  Mr.  Boyle 
(the  celebrated  chemist)  mentions  in  his  works ;  and 
in  which  he  tells  us  that  "  Dr.  Le  Fevre  "  gave  him 
an  account  of  it,  "  in  the  presence  of  a  famous 
physician,  and  another  virtuoso,  to  whom  he  applied, 
as  knowing  the  truth  of  what  he  said,  that  an 
intimate  friend  of  his,  whom,"  says  Mr.  Boyle, 
"  he  named  to  me,  having  prepared  the  primum  ens 
of  balm,  to  satisfy  himself  the  better  of  its  effects, 
made  a  trial  upon  himself,  and  took  of  it  according 
to  the  prescription,  for  above  a  fortnight ;  long  before 
which,  his  nails,  both  of  his  hands  and  feet,  began 
to  loosen  themselves  from  the  skin,  (but  without 
pain),  which,  at  length,  falling  off  of  their  own 
accord,  this  gentleman  keeps  yet  by  him  in  a 
box  for  a  rarity;  but  would  not  pursue  the  trial 


236 

any  farther,  being  satisfied  with  what  he  had  found, 

and  being  in  no  need  of  such  physic;  but  having 

given  of  the  same  medicated  wine,  for  ten  or  twelve 

days,  to  a  woman  that  served  in  his  house,  and  who 

was  near  70  years  of  age,  without  letting  her  know 

what  he  expected  it  would  do,  her  €  menses  *  came 

upon  her  again,  in  a  sufficiently  large  quantity  to 

frighten  her  so  much  that  he  durst  not  prosecute  the 

experiment  any  farther.     And  when  I  asked,"  says 

Mr.  Boyle,  "  why  he  made  no  trials  upon  beasts, 

it  was   answered,   that  though   he  had  but  little 

of  the  medicine,  yet  he  put  apart  an  old  hen,  and 

moistening  her  food  with  some  drops  of  it  for  a 

week,  about  the  sixth  day  she  began  to  moult  her 

feathers  by  degrees  till  she  became  stark  naked  ; 

but  before   a  fortnight  was  passed,  she  began  to 

regain  others,  which,  when  they  were  come  to  their 

full  growth,  appeared  fair  and  better  coloured  than 

at  first." 

And  he  added,  "that  besides  that  her  crest  was 

raised,  she  also  laid  more  eggs  than  she  was  wont 

to  do    before." — From  "Hermeppus   Redhrivus"  a 
scarce  >vork. 

AGAINST  WITCHCRAFT. 

"  Vervain  and  Dill 

Hinder  Witches  from  their  will/9 

Weekly  Review. 


THE  SPRING  ROOT, 

And  a  Legend  of  its  marvellous  Efficacy. 

Rubezahi  has  his  own  vegetable  garden  in  the 
mountain;  it  is  shown  upon  the  declivity  of 
Aupengrund.    The  mountain  is  rich   in  excellent 


237 

kerbs,  which  have  been  employed,  from  very  ancient 
times,  in  the  preparation  of  costly  essences.  Even 
at  this  day  the  inhabitants  of  Krumhubel  gain  their 
livelihood  by  the  preparation  of  these  essences  from 
the  herbs  which  grow  in  those  parts, — an  art  they 
may  probably  hare  derived  from  the  pupils  of  the 
once  celebrated  school  of  Paracelsus  at  Prague,  who 
were  driven  by  the  wars  of  the  Hussites  into  the 
more  secluded  parts  of  the  country ;  whence  it  is 
possible  the  people  of  Krumhubel  may  yet  be  in 
possession  of  many  curious  and  valuable  traditions. 
Among  these  herbs  there  is  one  which  has  become 
peculiarly  celebrated  in  legendary  lore;  it  is 
called  the  Spring -root,  and  is  found  only  in  Ru- 
bezahrs  garden.  This  root  is  of  most  costly  species, 
and  possesses  virtues  to  heal  the  most  obstinate  and 
inveterate  diseases.  But  it  serves  besides  as  a 
nourishment  to  the  spirits  themselves,  and  Kubezahl 
allows  none  but  his  particular  favorites  to  gather  it. 
A  lady  of  high  birth  once  lay  dangerously  ill  at 
Liegnitz,  and  promised  a  peasant  from  the  high 
mountain  a  great  reward  if  he  could  procure  her 
the  Spring-  root  from  Rubezahl's  garden.  Allured  by 
her  tempting  promises,  he  undertook  the  task. 
When  he  reached  the  lonely  desert  country  where 
the  garden  lies,  he  seized  his  spade,  and  began  to 
dig  up  the  Spring-root,  which  was  not  unknown  to 
him.  Whilst  he  was  yet  stooping  at  his  labour,  the 
wind  began  to  howl  from  one  quarter,  and  he  heard 
loud  thundering  words  which  he  did  not  understand. 
He  started  up  in  alarm,  in  order  to  satisfy  himself 
whence  it  came,  but  he  was  not  able  to  stand  up- 
right against  the  rush  of  the  wind.    He  perceived. 


'^.•-/O 


however,  upon  the  extreme  edge  of  a  projecting 
cliff,  a  tall  gigantic  form ;  a  long  beard  descended 
over  his  breast,  and  a  large  crooked  nose  disfigured 
his  countenance.     The  figure  looked  upon  him  with 
fearfully  glowing  eyes ;  his  streaming  locks,  and  a 
large  white  cloak  which  he  wore,  waved  in  the 
storm,  and  in  his  hand  he  bore  a  large  knotted  club. 
"What    are    you    doing    there?"    screamed   the 
apparition    to    him ;    and    the    rough   voice    was 
scarcely  distinguishable  from  the  howling  of  the 
storm.     The  peasant,  though  a  very  bold  man,  was 
overcome  by  the  terror  which  now  seized  him,  and 
replied,  "  I  am  seeking  the  Spring  root  for  a  sick 
lady,  who  has  promised  to  pay  me  well  for  it." 
"  What  you  have  got  you  may  keep ;  but  return 
again,  and ,"  screamed  the  figure  ;  and  brandish- 
ing his  club  with  threatening  gestures,  he  vanished. 
The  peasant  went  down  from  the  mountain  lost  in 
deep  thought,  and  the  lady  at  Liegnitz  considered 
herself  extremely  fortunate  m  getting  possession  of 
the  potent  root  to  sooth  her  pains.      Her    illness 
visibly  diminished,  and  as  she  could  only  expect  her 
complete  recovery  from  the  continued  use  of  the 
root,  she  desired  that  the  peasant  might  be  again 
brought  into  her  presence.     "  Would  you  venture 
once  more  to  fetch  me  the  Spring-root  ?"  inquired 
the  lady.     €t  My  good  lady,"  answered  the  peasant, 
"  the  first  time  the  Lord  of  the  mountain  appeared  to 
me  in  fearful  form,  and  threatened  me  so  seriously, 
that  I  dare  not  venture  a  second  time."     But  the 
lady  conquered  his  fear  by  dint  of  liberal  promises : 
she  offered  him  a  much  larger  sum  than  the  first 
time  ,  and  the  peasant,  no  longer  able  to  withstand 


239 

the  temptation,  ventured  once  again  to  take  a 
solitary  journey  into  the  inmost  recesses  of  the 
mountain. 

As  soon  as  he  began  to  dig  the  root,  there  arose 
a  fearful  storm  in  the  same  quarter  as  before ;  and 
when  he  looked  towards  it  he  beheld  the  same 
figure  menacing  him  in  a  still  more  threatening 
posture;  the  long  hair  and  wide  mantle  of  the 
spirit  seemed  to  stream  cm  the  wind  towards  him — 
fiie  shone  in  his  eyes — the  frightful  voice,  which 
again  screamed  "What  are  you  doing?"  re-echoed 
from  the  barren  rocks,  and  seemed  to  be  shouted 
with  redoubled  violence  from  the  hidden  abyss. 
When  the  peasant  answered,  "  I  seek  the  Spring- 
root, — a  sick  lady  has  promised  to  reward  me  well 
for  it,"  the  wrathful  spirit  roared  out,  "  Have  I  not 
warned  you,  you  madman !  and  you  dare  to  come 
back  again  ?  But  you  have  it  already ;  so  save  your* 
self,  if  you  can  1"  The  lightnings  of  his  eyes  seemed 
to  strike  upon  the  fainting  peasant,  and  to  scorch 
his  countenance :  his  mighty  club  whirled  through 
the  air  and  sunk  close  beside  him  deep  into  the 
aefid  rock — the  ground  trembled — a  loud  thunder- 
dap  benumbed  his  senses,  and  he  sank  down  un- 
conscious upon  the  turf.  On  recovering  from  his 
trance,  he  felt  as  if  every  bone  in  his  body  had 
been  broken.  The  club  had  disappeared,  thunder 
rolled  in  the  distance,  and  he  thought  he  could 
distinguish  the  threatening  voice  amid  its  roar ; 
but  the  Spring-root  remained  in  his  hand,  and  so  he 
crept  about  drenched  by  the  rain,  surrounded  by 
the  thick  fog,  attacked  by  flitting  sprites  hither  and 
thither,  the  whole  night  and  the  following  day, 
without  knowing  where  he  was,   till  a  charcoal- 


240 

ourner  found  him  half-starved,  and  took  him  to  his 
hut.  Here  he  recovered,  and  then  hastened  to 
Liegnitz. 

The  lady  was  delighted  when  he  again  stood 
before  her  with  the  Spring-root,  and  gave  him  so 
great  a  reward  that  he  forgot  all  his  misfortunes  and 
joyfully  hastened  home.  Some  time  elapsed,  and 
the  lady  seemed  almost  well,  but  still  she  hajl  not 
thoroughly  recovered.  "  If  I  could  get  the  Spring- 
root  once  more,  I  feel  I  could  be  quite  well/9  she 
said.  So  she  sent  again  to  the  peasant,  whore- 
fused  to  go  to  her ;  but  it  was  as  if  he  was  urged  by 
an  evil  spirit  against  his  will,  and  he  at  last  yielded. 
"  Here  I  am  again,  lady/'  said  the  peasant,  "  what 
do  you  wish  of  me  ?  I  hope  it  is  not  to  go  again 
for  the  Spring-root? — heaven  preserve  me  from 
that ! — the  last  time,  I  scarcely  escaped  with  my 
life.  I  yet  shudder  when  I  think  of  it."  Here  the 
lady  began  to  embrace  him,  and  promised  him  a 
whole  rich  farm  and  great  treasures  with  it,  and  so 
dazzled  the  poor  man's  imagination,  that  he  re- 
solved to  brave  all  danger  and  endeavour  to  steal 
a  third  time  the  Spring-root  from  the  enchanted 
garden,  though  he  should  perish  in  the  attempt 
"  Hitherto,"  said  the  peasant,  "  the  Lord  of  the 
mountain  has  only  threatened  me ;  and  this  shall  be 
the  last  time,  for  then  I  am  a  rich  man  and  can  spend 
my  life  in  glory  and  joy. 

The  peasant  dared  not  go  alone  this  time  to  the 
mountain.  "  Dear  boy,"  said  he,  to  his  eldest  son, 
who  was  now  beyond  childhood,  u  we  shall  go  to 
the  chapel  upon  the  mountain  :  you  shall  accompany 
me."  They  proceeded  together  till  the  ravines 
became  more  and  more  narrow,  and  the  rocks  more 


241 

ragged  and  barren.  As  they  passed  along  the 
margin  of  the  dark  lakes  eternally  overshadowed  by 
the  steep  rocks,  the  father  became  silent  and 
thoughtful,  and  deep  horror  fell  upon  his  inmost 
soul;  his  eyes  gleamed  so  wildly  that  his  son 
shuddered  to  look  upon  them.  "What  ails  you, 
father  ?"  said  he,  at  last ;  but  the  father  did  not 
answer  him,  and  gazed  in  silence  on  the  ground. 
Then  they  ascended  higher  and  higher  up  the 
mountain,  till  they  drew  near  the  garden,  when  the 
father  thus  addressed  his  son : — "  Evil  spirits  have 
beguiled  thy  father  from  his  earliest  years.  I  have 
cared  only  for  riches,  and  have  remained  a  stranger  to 
the  fear  of  God  and  of  religion.  I  have  led  a  wild  and 
couch  less  iire,  and  never  set  before  you  a  good  ex- 
ample. Now  Hell  calls  me,  and  I  must  purloin  the 
Spring-root  from  the  Lord  of  the  mountain,  for 
which  he  will  tear  me  to  pieces/9  At  this  the  son 
wept  sore,  and  said,  "  Father,  leave  it,  and  turn 
back  with  me;  heaven  is  merciful.9'  But  in  the 
distraction  of  despair,  the  father'  had  already 
seized  the  spade  and  begun  to  dig.  Then  arose  a 
fearful  hurricane — a  water-spout  rushed  down  and 
flooded  all  the  brooks  into  wild  torrents — a  moaning, 
heartwringing  lament  seemed  to  rise  up  from  the  roots 
of  the  garden — all  the  elements  mingled  wildly  with 
one  another — yawning  cliffs  opened  around — and 
from  above,  a  huge  figure,  itself  like  a  mountain, 
descended  with  a  gigantic  club,  seized  the  peasant, 
and  flew  up  with  him  to  the  height ;  then  a  large 
rock  fell  down  and  shivered  into  a  thousand  pieces. 
The  son  heard  the  moaning  of  his  father,  farther  and 
still  farther  in  the  distance,  and  for  a  long  time  lay 
on  the  ground  in  deep  stupor.   At  last  the  hurricane 

n  H 


242 

ceased  to  war,  the  sky  cleared  up,  and  the  forsaken 
son,  full  of  terror,  sought  the  mountain-chapel  to"  re- 
commend himself  to  God's  mercy  and  protection. 
At  the  same  hour  the  lady  at  Uegnitz,  who  itemed  al- 
most  recovered,  died  sudden!]/. 

Weekly  Rtvuw. 


MISCELLANIES, 

AMUSING    AND   SELECT. 

THE  BURNING  MIRROR  OF  ARCHIMEDES. 


Archimedes,  the  greatest  of  all  the  mechanics  of 
antiquity,  is  said  to  have  reduced  the  Roman  fleet, 
under  the  command  of  Marcellus,  to  ashes,  in  the 
port  of  Syracuse,  through  the  medium  of  a  burning 
mirror.  The  cut  which  we  present  above  to  our 
readers,  as  a  representation  of  that  of  Archimedes, 
is,  in  fact,  copied  from  one  actually  constructed  by 


343 

Mr.  Baffon,  the  French  naturalist,  which  being  found 
capable  of  effecting  nearly  what  Archimedes'  is 
said  to  have  accomplished,  is  presumed  to  be 
similar  to  his  mirror.  Each  square  in  the  plate 
represents  a  plane  mirror,  or  glass,  quicksilvered, 
of  which  400  were  placed  in  an  iron  frame,  and  all 
of  them  were  made,  by  means  of  screws  in  the  back 
part  of  the  frame,  to  reflect  the  collected  rays  of  the 
sun  to  one  point.  They  can  be  adjusted  to  the  sun  at 
various  heights,  and  made  to  cast  its  rays  to 
different  distances.  It  takes  a  considerable  time, 
indeed,  to  adjust  them ;  but,  when  adjusted,  the  focus 
continues  unaltered  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  very 
powerful  effects  are  produced.  With  this  instru- 
ment, Buffon  melted  lead  and  tin  at  the  distance  of 
about  SO  English  yards,  and  burnt  lighter  substances 
as  far  off  as  75  yards.  It  was  his  opinion,  that, 
with  summer  beat,  and  a  better  apparatus,  he  should 
be  able  to  produce  combustion  at  the  distance  of 
142  yards. 

TO  MAKE   AN   ARTIFICIAL  VOLCANO. 


Mix  28  pounds  of  sulphur  and  28  pounds  of  iron- 
filings  together,  and  add  as  much  water  as  will  form 


244 

the  whole  into  a  paste ;  oury  the  mass  about  two 
feet  below  the  surface  of  the  earth;  and  in  twelve  or 
fourteen  hours  so  much  heat  will  be  generated  as  to 
swell  the  earth,  and  cause  an  artificial  volcano, 
throwing  up  whatever  impedes  its  progress,  and 
scattering  round  ashes  of  a  yellowish  and  black 
colour.  To  succeed  in  this  experiment,  advantage 
should  be  taken  of  warm  weather  (in  the  months  of 
June,  July,  or  August),  and  after  the  tenth  hour  of 
burying  the  mass,  care  must  be  taken  not  to  ap- 
proach too  near  its  situation.  In  this  experiment, 
the  air  being  excluded,  the  iron  is  the  medium  of 
decomposition.  The  heat  of  the  situation  permits 
the  iron  filings  to  attract  the  oxygen  of  the  water  to 
itself;  and  in  doing  this,  the  latent  caloric  of  the 
oxygen  combines  with  the  hydrogen  and  sulphur, 
and  produces  the  flames,  which  having  the  power  of 
repulsion,  or  of  dilating  bodies,  swell  and  burst  the 
earth,  and  the  volcanic  matter,  which  is  the  residuum 
of  combustion,  is  thrown  out. 

Note. — There  is  a  pseudo  volcano  near  the  Brad- 
ley Iron-works,  in  Staffordshire.  It  is  mentioned  by 
Plott,  in  his  Natural  History  of  that  county,  as  being 
on  fire  in  1686,  when  he  wrote  ;  and  he  says,  that  it 
was  not  then  known  how  long  it  had  been  burning. 
M  that  period  it  occupied  a  space  of  eleven  acres, 
but  its  ravages  have  since  extended  about  one  mile 
and  a  half  in  extreme  length,  and  one  mile  in 
breadth.  Whether  the  fire  originated  in  accident, 
or  from  the  sulphur  contained  in  the  coal  and  pyrites, 
is  not  known ;  but  it  probably  arose  from  the  latter 
cause,  as,  at  other  pits,  the  small  coal  has  taken 
fire  on  being  exposed  to  the  air. 

Some  few  years  ago,  it  began  to  penetrate  through 


246 

the  Boor  of  some  houses,  causing  grea.  alarm,  by 
ppearingin  the  night,  and  four  of  the  houses  were 
taken  down.  It  exhibits  a  red  heat  in  this  situation, 
and  the  smoke  has  forced  its  way  through  a  bed  of 
cinders  forty  feet  in  height.  On  the  south  it  is 
arrested  by  beds  of  sand!  which  cover  the  coal 
formation  in  that  part,  and  upon  the  north-east  it  is 
mpeded  by  cultivation.  5  At  first  view,  a  stranger 
might  suppose  himself  in  a  volcanic  region.  The 
exterior  -  appearance  of  the  strata,  exposed  by  the 
falling  in  of  the  ground,  presents  a  surface  blackened 
by  the  action  of  fire,  and  presenting  most  of  the 
porphyrite  and  trappean  colours  in  high  perfection. 

THE  MECHANICAL  PUZZLE. 


The  above  cut  represents  a  very  ingenious 
mechanical  puzzle,  the  secret  of  which  is  not 
readily  discovered.  It  is  made  of  wood,  and  con- 
sists of  a  tablet  a,  with  a  square  hole  in  the  middle, 


246 

into  which  are  inserted  four  solid  pieces  of  wood 
b  b  b  b,  which  fill  the  space  completely  out ;  and 
though  you  may  slide  them  up  or  down  in  the  hole, 
each  separately,  or  all  four  together,  yet  the  knobs 
at  the  extremities  of  each  piece  preclude  the 
possibility  of  extracting  any  one  of  them :  they  can, 
however,  be  taken  to  pieces,  and  put  together  again. 
If  jammed  between  the  door,  or  pressed  in  any 
similar  way,  the  knot  is  reduced  to  half  its  dimen- 
sions, and  comes  asunder ;  when  subsequently,  if  the 
apparatus  be  allowed  to  remain  some  time  immersed 
in  water,  it  resumes  its  former  shape.  By  these 
means  the  pieces  can  be  displaced  and  replaced  at 
pleasure. 

Observe — These  puzzles  must  be  made,  or  partly 
made,  of  fir,  or  some  such  soft  wood. 

TO  MAKE  AN  ELECTRICAL  KITE. 

Make  a  small  cross  of  two  light  strips  of  cedar, 
the  arms  long  enough  to  reach  to  the  four  corners  of 
a  large  silk  handkerchief,  when  extended ;  tie  the 
corners  of  the  handkerchief  to  the  extremities  of  the 
cross,  and  you  have  the  body  of  the  kite,  which, 
being  properly  furnished  with  a  tail,  loop,  and  string, 
will  rise  in  the  air  like  one  made  of  papet ;  but  this 
being  of  silk,  is  better  adapted  to  bear  the  brunt  of 
a  thunder  storm  without  tearing.  To  the  top  of  the 
upright  stick  of  the  cross  is  to  be  fixed  a  sharp 
pointed  wire,  rising  a  foot  or  more  above  the  wood. 
To  the  end  of  the  twiae  next  the  hand  is  to  be  tied 
a  silken  ribbon,  and  where  the  silk  and  twine  join, 
a  key  may  be  fastened.  This  kite  is  to  be  raised 
when  a  thunder-storm  appears  to  be  coming  on ;  and 
the  person  who  holds  the  string  must  stand  within  a 


247 

door  or  window,  or  under  some  cover,  so  that  the 
ribbon  may  not  be  wetted  by  the  rain,  and  care 
must  be  taken  that  the  twine  do  not  touch  the  frame 
of  the  door  or  window. 

As  soon  as  thunder-clouds  come  over  the  kite,  the 
pointed  wire  will  draw  from  the  electric  fire,  and 
the  kite,  with  all  the  twine,  will  be  electrified, 
while  the  loose  filaments  of  the  twine  will  stand  out 
every  way,  and  be  attracted  by  an  approaching 
finger.  When  the  rain  has  wetted  the  kite  and 
twine,  so  that  it  can  conduct  the  electric  fire  freely, 
the  experimentalist  will  find  it  stream  out  plentifully 
from  the  key  on  the  approach  of  his  knuckle.  At 
this  key  an  electric  phial  may  be  charged ;  and  from 
electric  fire  thus  obtained,  spirits  may  be  kindled, 
and  all  other  electiic  experiments  performed,  which 
are  usually  done  by  the  help  of  a  rubbed  glass  or 
tube,  and  thereby  the  identity  of  the  electric  matter 
with  that  of  lightning  completely  demonstrated. 

Note. — Much  care  is  requisite  when  great  lightning 
happens ;  the  string  must  then  be  held  by  a  peg. 

TO  CONSTRUCT  A  SIMPLE  BAROMETER. 

Let  a  line,  made  of  good  whip-cord,  that  is  welt 
dried,  and  a  plummet  affixed  to  the  end  of  it,  be  sus- 
pended against  a  wainscot,  and  a  mark  drawn  exactly 
under  the  spot  which  the  plummet  reaches ;  in  very 
moderate  weather  the  plummet  will  be  found  to  rise 
above  the  mark  before  rain,  and  to  sink  below  it 
when  the  weather  is  likely  to  become  fair.  But  a 
better  contrivance  still,  b  a  good  pair  of  scales,  in 
one  of  which  place  a  brass  weight  of  a  pound,  and 
in  the  other  a  pound  of  salt,  or  of  saltpetre,  well 
dried ;  a  stand  being  placed  under  the  scale,  so  as  to 


248 

prevent  its  dropping  too  low.  When  rain  is  about 
to  fall,  the  salt  will  swell  and  sink  the  scale ;  when 
the  weather  is  growing  fair,  the  brass  weight  will 
regain  its  ascendency. 


TRADITIONS  AND  SUPERSTITIONS  OF 

FORMER  TIMES. 

In  the  dark  ages  of  Popery,  almost  (or  quite) 
every  science  was  engrossed  by  the  priesthood,  and 
even  the  self-evident  theories  thereof  linked  with 
superstitious  formulas;  and  therefore  it  could  not 
be  expected  that  a  science  like  Astrology  should 
escape  the  follies  of  the  period :  on  the  contrary, 
the  science  was  often  made  the  vehicle  of  the 
grossest  and  most  palpable  credulity.  The  well  fed 
and  pampered  monks,  in  theii  impious  cells,  pro* 
fessed  to  hold  converse  with  heaven  by  means  ol 
the  stars,  and  with  the  "  powers  of  darkness" 
beneath,  by  means  of  magical  rites,  sorceries,  and 
incantations.  For  this,  the  science  of  the  "  Celestial 
Influences "  oecame  often  the  butt  of  ridicule,  or 
the  theme  of  imprecations ;  which,  in  the  manner 
it  was  then  professed,  when  philosophical  reasoning 
and  analytical  deduction  were  entirely  out  of  the 
question,  could  scarcely  be  wondered  at.  Besides 
which,  the  imperfections  in  the  art,  caused  by  the 
non-discovery  of  Rerschel  (a  planet  of  prodigious 
power  in  all  nativities  and  themes  of  heaven),  and 
an  ignorance  of  the  laws  relative  to  comets  and 
various  celestial  phenomena,  were  sufficient  to 
cause  a  host  of  erroneous  theories,  or,  as  we  now 
term  them,  "Ancient  Superstitions."  Of  which, 
one  of  the  most  curious  is 


THE  KNOWLEDGE  OF  FATE  BY  THE 
SOLAR  HOROSCOPE. 


\/    v      , 

: 

Tt        /■ ~- ! 

\l 

1 

/                 StlLAH 

(  T 

|  \           HOROXCOI'E 

7 

k 

Amongst  the  various  Astrological  authors,  Arabian, 
Persian,  and  Italian,  who  hare  written  upon  the 
effects  of  the  "Solar  Horoscope,"  the'  most  con- 
spicuous are  Taisner,  Junotinus,  Haly  Abenrage! 
Indagine,  and  Agrippa,  from  which  the  following  is 
extracted  verbatim ;  and  first  we  begin  with 

0o\  in  9rtr», 

Or  Traditions  relating  to  the  Fate  of  Persons  born  from 
the  20th  of  March  to  the  20th  of  April. 

"  The  Sun  being  in  Aries,  maketb  them  which  are 
born,  neither  rich,  neither  very  poor.  Also  angry, 
bat  soon  pleased,  studious,  eloquent,  diverse,  proud, 
lying,  and  luxurious ;  promising  (as  they  ■  say) 
mountains  of  gold,  and  performing  nothing,  evil 
reported  among  his  kindred,  and  shall  be  brought 


950 

in  danger  by  his  enemies,  which  shall  be  men  of 
power. 

"  He  shall  be  hurt  oy  four-footed  beasts,  as  being 
cast  off  a  horse,  be  shall  receive  great  wounds  with 
danger  of  death.  So  much  unfortunate  and  adverse 
shall  all  kinds  of  hawking,  hunting,  fishing,  and  all 
things  to  be  done  on  horseback,  be  to  him.  In 
other  things  he  shall  be  more  fortunate  and  happy, 
and  also  long  lived. 

"Also  if  it  be  a  maid  that  is  born,  she  shall  be 
given  to  lying,  angry,  fair,  curious,  delighting  in  new 
and  strange  things,  envious,  and  fruitful  in  children, 
whose  first  child  shall  be  slain :  she  shall  be  in 
many  perils  and  dangers,  whereby  she  shall  get  a 
scar  in  the  head,  or  else  be  naturally  marked  there, 
or  in  the  feet.  This  we  have  noted  also  out  of 
certain  authors,  that  the  chtldren  of  Aries  being  born 
in  the  day,  shall  be  fortunate,  and  of  great  reputation 
and  renown  amongst  great  men  and  princes  ;  con- 
trarywise,  they  which  are  born  in  the  night,  will  be 
unfortunate  and  of  no  reputation." 

£>ol  in  Caucus, 

Or  Traditions  relating  to  the  Fate  of  those  born  from 
the  20th  of  April  to  the  20th  of  May. 

tc  Taurus  doth  make  them  bold  and  fortunate  in 
attempting  hard  and  weighty  affairs  and  businesses ; 
a  victor  or  conqueror  of  his  enemies,  a  great 
traveller,  and  banished  from  his  native  country. 

€€  Also  servile,  familiar,  angry,  but  more  in  youtb 
than  in  age,  for  age  shall  take  away  all  incotn- 
modities  and  displeasures,  and  shall  bring  riches  and 


261 

marriage ;  by  which  means  he  shall  be  exhilarate, 
and  made 'joyful  and  glad.  For  if  he  go  about  to 
marry  in  youth,  he  shall  scarce  attain  unto  it; 
howbeit,  age  doth  not  take  away  sickness,  but  in- 
creaseth  sadness,  melancholy,  black  choler,  and 
causeth  hurt,  as  biting  of  a  dog,  and  that  about  the 
toenty-eighth  or  thirty  fifth  year  of  his  age. 

"  These  things  once  passed,  he  shall  flourish  again, 
and  live  very  long,  It  maketh  also  the  women- 
children,  wanton,  painful,  disobedient,  and  full  of 
words :  also  infamed  for  unchastity,  which  infamy 
shall  vanish  away  by  little  and  little,  when  she 
cometh  to  the  age  of  twenty -one  years.  She  shall 
have  many  husbands  and  children,  wise  and  witty  in 
helping  and  counselling  others,  also  circumspect  and 
rich." 

&oI  in  &tmfnf, 

Or  Tradition*  relating  to  the  Fate  of  those  born  from 
the20tk  tfMay  to  the  20th  of  June. 

"  Gemini  being  naturally  fair,  doth  also  cause  a 
fair  childe,  merciful,  wise,  and  witty,  Iiberbl,  a 
boaster,  a  runner  and  strayer  about  countreys, 
having  no  regard  to  his  own  business,  whereby  he 
shall  be  neither  rich,  neither  oppressed  with  poverty, 
but  of  a  mean  estate ;  and  of  such  fidelity  and  faith- 
fulnesse,  that  he  shall  have  the  rule  of  the  common 
treasure,  merry  minded,  full  of  understanding,  subtle, 
gentle  to  be  spoken  to,  and  by  a  certain  instruction 
acceptable  unto  men,  as  they  which  have  Venus  in 
the  root  of  their  nativity.  Also  fair  of  face,  endued 
with  good  learning  and  science,  as  mathematical 
sciences,  the  laws,  and  arithmetick.  The  singular 
gift  he  hath  also  before  others,  that  being  angry,  he 


can  dissemble  and  cover  his  anger.  He  shall  be  in 
great  danger  about  23  years  of  age,  either  to  be  bitten 
by  a  dog,  or  hurt  by  fire,  or  else  by  some  weapon." 

#oI  in  Canttr, 

Or  Traditions  relating  to  the  Fate  of  those  born  from 
20th  of  June  to  the  20th  of  July. 

m 

"  Cancer  being  naturally  cold  and  moist,  doth 
make  gross  the  flesh,  and  doth  allure  and  provoke 
to  the  love  and  company  of  women.  Also  it  causeth 
a  good  wit,  humility,  and  wisdome,  full  of  strife  and 
debate,  and  for  the  most  part  giving  victory  over 
all  his  enemies.  Attempting  many  things;  and 
especially  on  the  sea,  often  in  danger,  and  vexed 
with  many  incommodities,  with  much  poverty  and 
misery.  And  albeit  he  be  the  causer  of  gain,  yet 
shall  he  be  never  a  whit  the  richer ;  he  shall  dig  for 
treasure,  and  finde  that  which  he  looked  not  for. 
But  if  it  be  a  maid,  she  shall  be  fat,  beautiful, 
nimble,  angry,  and  soon  pleased,  diligent,  wise,  civil, 
and  shamefast,  witty,  deceitful,  and  crafty,  saying 
one  thing  and  doing  another,  alwaies  careful  and 
painful,  ordained  to  many  dangers,  as  by  water,  by 
falling,  by  childe-bearing,  and  by  the  collick,  having 
her  first  child  weak  and  tender,  the  other  somewhat 
stronger.  And  if  he  happen  to  commit  any  fault  of 
infamy  after  the  age  of  26  years,  it  shall  be  clean 
abolished  and  put  out  of  minde.  After  the  which 
age,  whether  it  be  man  or  woman,  it  promiseth 
good  success  and  fortune.  It  maketh  them  all  well 
haired,  modest,  faithful,  painful,  greedy  of  meat  and 
drink,  acquainted  with  noble  men,  and  fortunate  in 
husbandry." 


us 

#ol  to  Era, 

Or  Traditions  relating  to  the  Fate  of  those  born  from 
th*20ih  of  July  to  the  20th  of  August. 

"  The  Sun  in  Leo  maketh  a  stout  stomack  bold, 
arrogant,  eloquent,  and  proud;  a  mocker  and 
•corner,  unmerciful,  cruel,  hard,  and  hard  to  be 
intreated  ;  beset  with  many  miseries  and  perils,  out 
rf  the  which  he  being  escaped,  shall  obtain  some 
common  office ;  as  to  be  a  centurion  or  captain  over 
600,  looking  for  benefit  at  the  hands  of  three  noble* 
men,  unfortunate  in  children,  and  from  them  sus- 
taining much  labour  and  affliction,  proiie  to  anger, 
and  putting  himself  into  many  dangers,  enflaming 
choler,  promoting  to  honors  and  dignities,  and 
bringeth  them  in  danger  of  fire,  sword,  and  violence 
of  beasts,  whereby  he  shall  die  out  of  his  own  house 
or  place*  Howbeit  by  the  help  of  God  he  shall 
escape  out  of  all  these  dangers.  Likewise,  if  it  be  a 
maid,  she  shall  be  bold,  have  a  great  and  large 
breast,  and  slender  legs,  which  are  tokens  of  stout- 
nesse  and  boldnesse,  anger,  slanders  and  babling, 
albeit  that  the  softnesse  which  is  in  women  doth 
somewhat  admit  and  asswage  the  excess  of  the  same. 
8he  ought  also  specially  to  take  heed  of  hot  waters 
and  fire,  by  the  which  she  shall  be  greatly  in 
danger:  shee  shall  also  be  much  enclined  to  the 
sicknesse,  or  gnawing  of  the  stomack.  But  after 
the  age  of  twenty  or  twenty-one  years,  she  shall  be 
fortunate  in  riches,  the  which  she  shall  obtain  by  the 
help  of  great  men,  and  the  use  of  other  men's  goods ; 
also  in  house-keeping,  beauty,  and  love.  Notwith 
standing,  die  shall  have  but  few  children." 


254 

JM  in  Firffo, 

Or  Tradition*  relating  to  the  Fate  of  those  born  from 
the  20th  tf  August  to  the  20th  of  September. 

"  So  likewise  Virgo  doth  make  them  fortunate  in 
houshold  affairs,  witty,  true,  stout  and  ambitious. 
His  wife  shall  die  before  he  know  of  it;  divers 
things  also  shall  be  taken  and  stoln  from  him,  and 
he  shall  be  revenged  of  his  enemies.  Moreover  hee 
shall  be  so  much  given  to  boasting  and  babling,  that 
he  cannot  hide  and  keep  close  his  own  secrets :  fair 
of  face,  well  mannered,  a  lover  of  women,  and 
delighting  to  be  in  the  Courts  of  great  men  and 
princes.  Moreover,  just,  wise,  good  and  honourable, 
a  patron  and  defender  of  his  friends ;  also  holy  and 
merciful,  comely  bodied,'  and  well  featured.  A 
maid  of  the  same  birth  shall  be  witty,  honest  and 
shamefac'd,  well-willing,  diligent,  circumspect  and 
angry ;  she  shall  marry  about  the  age  of  fifteen  years, 
and  shall  bring  forth  her  first  begotten  of  an  eloquent 
and  goodly  form  or  shape.  Howbeit,  whether  they 
be  men  or  women,  they  shall  be  wrapped  in  many 
perils  and  dangers." 

J&ol  in  Ziiira, 

Or  Traditions  relating  to  the  Fate  of  those  born  from 
the  20th  of  September  to  the  20th  of  October. 

"The  Sun  in  Libra  causes  the  childe  to  be 
libidinous,  busie,  fortunate,  and  specially  upon  the 
waters,  or  things  pertaining  to  the  water.  Also  by 
sweet  spices,  and  precious  stones,  and  such  like.  It 
causeth  likewise  a  comely  body   and  nimble,   a 


2&> 

pleasant  tongue  or  speech,  a  good  name,  seeking 
out  secrets,  but  seldom  stedfast  in  promises,  although 
he  pretend  otherwise.  He  shall  put  himself  in 
great  dangers  and  troubles.  His  first  wife  shall 
not  continue  with  him  long,  he  shall  also  have  in* 
heritance  of  the  goods  of  dead  men,  and  partly  by  his 
own  wit  and  industry.  Neither  shall  he  be  altogether 
unfortunate  by  four  footed  beasts.  He  shall  suffer 
many  and  great  things  for  women's  sakes,  and  shall 
be  infamed  for  unlawful  companying  with  them. 
Also  he  shall  be  a  good  interpreter  of  dreams, 
whether  his  birth  be  by  day  or  night.  The  woman 
shall  be  friendly,  merry  and  jocond,  setting  her 
whole  delight  on  the  fields  and  herbs,  wandering 
into  strange  places.  About  the  age  of  23  she  shall 
marry,  which  marriage  shall  be  fortunate ;  whose 
beauty,  pleasant  speech,  or  tongue,  and  comely 
behaviour,  shall  greatly  prefer  or  promote  her. 
Neither  are  the  children  of  Libra  altogether 
unapt  to  letters,  or  good  learning.  But  let  them 
take  heed  of  scalding  water  and  of  fire,  for  they 
shall  receive  hurt  by  them,  without  great  regard 
be  had." 

Mat  in  #corpfo, 

Or  Traditions  relating  to  the  Pate  qf  those  bom  from 
the  20th  of  October  to  the  20th  of  November. 

"  Scorpio  doth  augment  the  inheritance,  and  addeth 
boldness,  and  stoutness,  also  flattery,  by  the  which 
he  shall  deceive  many,  showing  (as  they  say)  bread 
in  one  hand,  and  hiding  a  stone  in  the  other; 
mingling  poy&on  with  bony,  performing  almost 
nothing  that  he  promise th.  Notwithstanding,  merry, 


256 

and  jesting,  light  of  belief,  and  a  oonquerour  of  his 
enemies. 

4t  It  causeth  also  the  women  to  be  friendly,  wise, 
and  crafty,  which  shall  be  deceived  of  her  first 
husband  ;  her  other  husband  she  shall  joyfully  use, 
and  overcome  her  enemies.  She  shall  also  have  the 
pain  of  the  spleen,  and  be  marked  either  in  the  head 
or  shoulders,  or  brawn  of  the  arm.  It  maketh  both 
kindes  bold  and  rash  to  rob  and  steal,  and  to  search 
out  forbidden  things,  and  to  make  contracts  or 
bargains.  Also  it  maketh  them  wanton,  lascivious 
unstable,  and  full  of  evil  thoughts  and  imaginations, 
babling,  and  angry,  and  sometime  very  sad  and 
afflicted.  Howbeit,  there  shall  be  princes  and  great 
men  which  shall  esteem  and  set  much  by  such  sort 
of  men,  and  also  of  the  common  people  which  shall 
flatter  them,  whereby  they  shall  be  had  in  great 
reputation  and  honour." 

Sol  in  Sagittarius, 

• 

Or  Traditions  relating  to  the  Fate  of  those  born  from 
the  20th  of  November  to  the  20th  of  December 

€€  Sagittarius  is  not  altogether  evil,  for  the  Sun 
dwelling  in  it,  doth  give  fortune,  and  mimstreth 
courage  to  take  any  thing  in  hand,  whatsoever  thou 
purposest ;  and  specially  to  travel  strange  countreys, 
and  to  passe  the  seas,  and  not  to  return  without 
great  gain.  He  shall  also  get  friends  to  come  into 
the  houses  and  courts  of  princes,  not  to  gather  up 
the  trenchers,  or  lick  the  dishes,  as  the  common  and 
viler  sort  of  courtiers  do ;  but  to  be  put  in  some 
office,  as  to  bee  steward,  or  such  like ;  to  the  which 
promotion  his  agility  and  strength  shall  greatly  prefer 


257 

him.  Moreover,  he  tfhall  be  altogether  given  to 
riding,  hawking,  hunting,  dancing,  and  leaping, 
plays,  and  games,  combats  and  conflicts,  for  the 
which  he  shall  have  many  enemies,  which  shall  envy 
him,  and  impugn  him  grievously,  whom  he  shall 
notwithstanding  vanquish  and  overcome.  He  shall 
also  possesse  his  father's  inheritance,  which  hap* 
peneth  not  unto  all  men.  And  oftentimes  it  maketh 
them  just,  witty,  still,  hearty,  ingenious,  faithful, 
gentle,  firm  and  stable,  painful  and  boasting.  The 
woman  also  shall  not  much  differ ;  for  she  shall  be 
fall  of  anxiety,  painful,  merciful,  and  much  envied, 
and  laid  in  wait  for  by  evil  men ;  but  she  shall  over 
come  them  and  be  fertile  in  childe-bearing.  She 
shall  marry  about  the  age  of  17  years,  but  if  that 
marriage  proceed  not,  she  shall  not  marry  until  the 
age  of  24  years/' 

£>ol  in  Capricorn, 

Or  Traditions  relating  to  the  Fate  of  those  born  from 
the  20th  of  December  to  the  20th  of  January. 

"  Capricorn  maketh  the  childe  angry,  and  light, 
accompanying  himself  with  vile  and  suspicious 
peraons.  Also  painful  and  distract,  and  vexed  with 
divers  variances,  the  which  adversities  he  shall 
boldly  and  stoutly  bear  out  and  sustain.  Hee  shall 
bee  ready  to  dye  for  the  love  of  some  poor  and  simple 
maid,  the  which  at  length  shall  cast  him  into  some 
disease  and  sickness. 

"  It  maketh  them  also  meanly  rich,  benevolent, 
cheerful  and  merry ;  but  unstedfast,  if  the  nativity 
be  by  night.    In  his  age,  when  hee  seeth  his  riches 

K  K 


258 

cacrease,  he  will  begin  to  love  money,  and  decline 
from  his  former  liberality  unto  covetousness,  for  in 
youth  he  was  easily  to  be  handled.  He  shall 
prosper  in  navigations,  and  specially  toward  the  PWt ; 
for  his  fortune  shall  come  out  of  the  east  from  great 
men.  The  Physiognomy  of  those  children  for  the 
most  part  is  such ;  a  little  head,  hollow  eyes,  and  a 
mean  voice.  Baths  bee.  profitable  unto  him,  being 
sick.  The  women  are  timorous,  and  very  shame- 
fac'd,  and  shall  have  dominion  and  victory  over 
their  enemies,  and  shall  stray  far  abroad," 

£>al  in  aquartus, 

Or  Traditions  relating  to  the  Fate  of  those  born  from 
the  20th  of  January  to  the  20th  of  February. 

"Aquarius  maketh  the  childe  friendly,  but 
covetous,  and  apt  to  quotidian  agues,  unfortunate 
about  waters,  which  naturally  he  shall  abhor.  His 
good  fortune  shall  begin  to  encrease  about  the  age 
of  15,  or  16  years,  at  the  which  time  he  shall  begin 
to  wander  and  stray  through  divers  places,  and 
waxe  somewhat  rich,  which  riches  shall  never  come 
to  abundance,  but  shall  be  dispersed  again  until 
his  latter  years,  which  shall  make  amends  for  that 
which  hath  been  over  liberally  spent  before. 
Neither  shall  his  long  journeys  turn  him  to  any  great 
lucre,  or  gain,  but  he  shall  look  for  and  obtain 
greater  profit  at  the  hands  of  others.  Further,  hee 
shall  be  vexed  with  sundry  incommodities,  losses 
and  perils,  and  especially  with  his  wife,  and  other 
women ;  for  she  shall  fail  into  a  palsie,  neither  shall 
he  have  the  fruition  of  her  any  long  time,  neither 


259 

shall  he  prosper  with  other  women,  but  she  being* 
once  dead,  all  things  shall  come  more  fortunately  to 

passe. 

"  The  maid  born  in  Aquarius,  shall  be  proper  and 
fine,  true,  and  constant,  and  in  these  three  points 
ihe  shall  excel  the  man.  She  shall  also  beenriebed 
with  other  men's  goods,  and  let  her  take  heed  of  her 
children,  for  she  shall  be  vexed  with  many  ineotn-* 
riodities,  and  attempt  strange  places ;  she  shall  bee 
but  mean  estate,  unto  the  age  of  22  years,  and  then 
fortune  shall  begin  somewhat  to  favour  her/  and  she 
shall  obtain  mean  riches.  Oftentimes  both  the  men 
and  women  be  soft  of  speech,  wise,  ingenious,  faith- 
ful, merry,  and  ooqtiaually  angry  with  their  enemies*" 

£>dl  in  #{*«, 

Or  Traditions  relating  to  the  Fate  of  those  born  from 
the  20th  of  February  to  the  20th  of  March. 

"Pisces  in  youth  doth  vex  his  children  with 
many  evils,  and  oftentimes  without  desert;  and 
maketh  them  covetous,  merry,  diligent,  players, 
neglecting  fortune,  of  a  good  disposition,  loving 
the  company  of  good  men.  Also  of  a  quick  and 
ready  tongue,  bold,  standing  much  in  their  own 
conceit,  and  fortunate  in  seeking  out  treasures ; 
for  this  is  only  given  unto  them,  that  they  shall 
find  something  unlooked  for.  They  shall  also 
partly  be  enriched  by  other  men's  goods.  They 
shall  not  live  long,  except  they  pass  the  age  of  35 
years,  then  there  is  hope  of  long  life ;  yet  shall  they 
never  be  very  rich,  albeit  in  their  own  opinion,  they 
think  to  possesse  the  riches  of  Crasus,  full  of 
troublous   thoughts,    and    shall    be    brought  into 


260 

captivity  through  women,  and  few  things  shall 
prosper  with  them  in  their  childe-hood  or  youth. 
They  shall  be  marked  in  the  elbow  or  foot,  and 
their  fortune  is  towards  the  south.  The  maiden 
children  shall  be  hot,  bold,  of  insolent  tongues,  con- 
tumelious, full  of  brawling  and  scolding,  beset  with 
many  perils  and  (putting  all  honesty  apart)  she 
shall  forsake  her  husband,  and  if  she  be  not  let, 
she  will  marry  herself  to  an  adulterer.  Also,  they 
shall  be  much  vexed  with  the  torments  of  the  belly, 
and  stomach. " 


"  Puck.    How  dow  Spixl  t !  whither  wander  you  ? 
Fai,  Over  hill,  over  dale, 

Through  bush,  through  brier, 
Or er  park,  over  pale, 
Through  flood,  through  fire, 
I  do  wander  every  where, 
Swifter  than  the  moone's  sphere ; 
And  I  serve  the  fairy  queen, 
To  dew  her  orbs  upon  the  green  : 
The  cowslips  tall,  her  pensioners  be  * 
In  their  gold  coats  spots  you  see  ; 
Those  be  rubies,  fairy  favours, 
In  those  freckles  live  their  savours ' 

I  must  go  seek  some  dew  drops  here, 

And  hang  a  pearl  in  every  cowslip's  ear. 

Farewell,  thou  lob  of  Spirits.,  PR  be  gone ! 

Our  queen  and  all  our  elves  come  here  anou.' 

A  Midsummer  Night**  Drfgm, 

\ 

THE  ELVES  IN   IRELAND. 

The  Elves,  which,  in  their  true  shape,  are  said  to 
be  but  a  few  inches  high,  have  an  airy,  almost 
transparent,  body:  so  delicate  is  their  form,  that  a 


261 

dewdrop,  when  they  dance  on  it,  trembles,  indeed, 
but  never  breaks.  Both  sexes  are  of  extraordinary 
beauty,  and  mortal  beings  cannot  be  compared  with 
them. 

They  do  not  live  alone,  or  in  pairs,  but  always 
in  large  societies.  They  are  invisible  to  man, 
particularly  in  the  daytime ;  and  as  they  can  be 
present,  and  hear  what  is  said,  the  peasantry  never 
speak  of  them  but  with  caution  and  respect,  terming 
them  "  the  good  people,"  or  the  friends,  as  any  other 
name  would  offend  them. 

If  a  great  cloud  of  dust  rises  on  the  road,  it  is  said 
by  the  peasantry  that  the  Elves  are  about  to  change 
their  residence,  and  to  remove  to  another  place,  and 
the  invisible  travellers  are  always  saluted  with  a 
respectful  bow.  They  have  their  dwellings  in  clefts 
of  rocks,  caves,  and  ancient  tumuli.  Every  part 
within  is  decorated  in  the  most  splendid  and  mag- 
nificent manner;  and  the  pleasing  music,  which 
sometimes  issues  from  thence  in  the  night,  has 
delighted  those  who  have  been  so  fortunate  as  to 
hear  it. 

During  the  summer  nights,  when  the  moon  shines, 
and  particularly  in  the  harvest  time,  the  Elves  come 
oat  of  their  secret  dwellings,  and  assemble  for  the 
dance  in  certain  favourite  spots,  which  are  hidden 
and  secluded  places,  such  as  mountain-valleys, 
meadows  near  streams  and  brooks,  and  church- 
yards, where  men  seldom  come  They  often  cele- 
brate their  feasts  under  large  mushrooms,  or  repose 
beneath  their  shade.  In  the  first  .rays  of  the  morning 
sun  they  again  vanish,  with  a  noise  resembling  that 
of  a  swarm  of  bees  or  flies.  Their  garments  are 
said  to  be  as  white  as  snow,  sometimes  shining  like 


262 

silver :  a  hat  or  cap  is  indispensable ;  for  which 
purpose  they  generally  select  the  red  flowers  of  the 
foxglove,  and  by  it  different  parties  fire  known. 

The  secret  and  magic  powers  of  the  Elves, 
tradition  asserts  to  be  so  great  as  46ar$6ly  to  know 
any  bounds.  They  can  assume  in  a  moment,  not 
only  the  human,  but -every  other  form,  even  the 
most  terrific ;  and  it  is  easy  for  then!  to  oonvfty 
themselves,  in  one  second,  a  distance  of  fivg  leagues; 

Before  their  breath,  all  human  energy  fails.  They 
sometimes  communicate  supernatural  knowledge  to 
men ;  and  if  a  person  be  seen,  walking  up  and  down 
alone,  and  moving  his  lips,  as  one  half  distraught, 
it  is  said  to  be  a  sign  that  an  Elf  is  invisibly  present, 
and  instructing  him. 

The  Elves  are,  above  all  things,  fond  of  music* 
Those  who  have  heard  their  music,  cannot  find 
words  to  describe  the  power  with  which  it  fills  and 
enraptures  the  sou!.  It  rushes  upon  them  like  a 
stream j .  and  yet  the  tones  are  simple,  even 
monotonous,  and  in  general  resembling  natural 
sounds.  Among  their  amusements,  is  that  of  play* 
ing  at  ball,  which  they  pursue  with  much  eagerness, 
and  at  which  they  often  differ  so  as  even  to  quarrel. 

Their  skill  in  dancing  far  exceeds  the  highest  art 
of  man,  and  the  pleasure  they  take  in  this  amusement 
is  inexhaustible.  They  dance  without  interruption 
till  the  fays  of  the  sun  appear  on  the  mountains,  and 
make  the  boldest  leaps  without  the  least  exertion. 
They  do  not  require  any  food,  but  refresh  themselves 
with  dewdrops,  which  they  collect  from  the  leaves. 

They  severely  punish  all  who  inquisitively  ap- 
proach or  teaze  them ;  otherwise  they  are  friendly 
and  obliging  to  well-meaning  people,  who  confide  in 


'263 

them.  They  remove  humps  from  the  shoulder, 
make  presents  of  new  articles  of  clothing,  undertake 
to  grant  requests;  though,  in  such  cases,  good 
humour  on  the  applicant's  part  seems  to  be  necessary. 
Sometimes,  too,  they  appear  in  human  form,  or  allow 
persons  who  have  accidentally  6trayed  amongst 
them  during  the  night,  to  join  in  their  dances ;  but 
there  is  always  some  danger  in  this  intercourse. 
The  person  becomes  ill  in  consequence,  and  falls  into 
a  violent  fever  from  the  unnatural  exertion,  as  they 
seem  to  lend  him  a  part  of  their  power.  If  he 
forget  himself,  and,  according  to  the  custom,  kiss  his 
partner,  the  whole  scene  vanishes  the  instant  his 
lips  touch  hers. 

The  Elves  have  another  peculiar  and  more  intimate 
connexion  with  mortals.  It  seems  as  if  they  divided 
among  themselves  the  souls  of  men,  and  considered 
them  thenceforth  as  their  property.  Hence,  certain 
families  have  their  particular  Elves,  to  whom  they 
are  devoted;  in  return  for  which,  however,  they 
receive  from  them  help  and  assistance  in  critical 
moments,  and,  often,  recovery  from  mortal  diseases. 
But  as,  after  death,  they  become  the  property  of  their 
Elves,  the  death  of  a  man  is  to  them  always  a 
festival,  at  which  one  of  their  own  body  enters  into 
their  society.  Therefore  they  Tequire  that  people  shall 
be  present  at  funerals,  and  pay  them  reverence.  They 
celebrate  an  interment  like  a  wedding,  by  dancing 
on  the  grave :  and  it  is  for  this  reason  that  they 
select  churchyards  for  their  favourite  places  of  resort. 
A  violent  quarrel  often  arises,  whether  a  child  be- 
longs to  the  Elves  of  the  father  or  of  the  mother,  and 
in  what  churchyard  it  is  to  be  buried.  The 
different  parties  of  these  supernatural  beings  hate 


264 

and  make  war  on  each  other,  with  as  much  animosity 
as  nations  among  mankind  :  their  combats  take  place 
in  the  night  in  cross  roads,  and  they  often  do  not 
separate  till  daybreak  parts  them.  This  connexion 
of  men  with  a  quiet  and  good  tribe  of  spirits,  far 
from  being  frightful,  would  rather  be  beneficial,  but 
the  Elves  appear  in  a  dubious  character ;  both  evil 
and  good  are  combined  in  their  nature,  and  they 
show  a  dark  as  well  as  a  fair  side.  They  are  said 
to  be  angels  expelled  from  heaven,  who  have  not  fallen 
into  hell,  but  are  in  fear  and  doubt  respecting  their 
future  states,  and  whether  they  shall  find  mercy  at 
the  day  of  judgment. 

This  mixture  of  the  dark  and  the  malevolent  is 
visibly  manifested  in  their  actions  and  inclinations. 
If,  in  remembrance  of  their  original  and  happy 
condition,  they  are  beneficent  and  friendly  towards 
man,  the  evil  principle  within  them  prompts  them  to 
malicious  and  injurious  tricks.  Their  beauty,  the 
wondrous  splendour  of  their  dwellings,  their  spright- 
liness,  is  nothing  more  than  illusive  show;  and 
their  true  figure,  which  is  frightfully  ugly,  inspires 
terror.  If,  as  is  but  rarely  the  case,  they  are  seen 
in  the  day-time,  their  countenances  appear  to  be 
wrinkled  with  age,  or,  as  people  express  it,  "  like  a 
withered  cauliflower, "  a  little  nose,  red  eyes,  and 
hair  hoary  with  extreme  old  age. 

One  of  their  evil  propensities  consists  in  stealing 
healthy  and  fine  children  from  their  mothers,  and 
substituting  in  their  room  a  changeling,  who  bears 
some  resemblance  to  the  stolen  infant,  but  is,  in  fact, 
only  an  ugly  and  sickly  Elf.  He  manifests  every 
evil  disposition, — is  malicious,  mischievous,  and 
though  insatiable  as  to  food,  does  not  thrive.    When 


266 

the  name  of  God  is  mentioned,  he  begins  to  laugh , 
otherwise  he  never  speaks  till,  being  obliged  to  do 
so  by  artifice,  his  age  is  betrayed  by  his  voice, 
which  is  that  of  a  very  old  man.  The  love  of 
music  shows  itself  in  him,  as  well  as  extraordinary 
proficiency :  supernatural  energies  are  also  mani- 
fested in  the  power  with  which  he  obliges  every- 
thing, even  inanimate  objects,  to  dance.  Wherever 
he  come 8,  he  brings  ruin :  a  series  of  misfortunes 
succeed  each  other;  the  cattle  become  sick,  the 
house  falls  into  decay,  and  every  enterprise  proves 
abortive.  If  he  is  recognized,  and  threatened,  he 
makes  himself  invisible,  and  escapes.  He  dislikes 
running  water ;  and  if  he  is  carried  on  a  bridge,  he 
jumps  over,  and,  sitting  upon  the  waves,  plays  his 
pipe,  and  returns  to  his  own  people. 

At  particular  times,  -such  as  May  eve,  for  instance, 
the  evil  Elves  seem  to  be  peculiarly  active  and 
powerful.  To  those  to  whom  they  are  inimical, 
they  give  a  blow  unperceived,  the  consequence  of 
which  is  lameness ;  or  they  breathe  upon  them,  and 
boils  and  swellings  immediately  appear  on  the  place 
which  the  breath  has  touched.  Persons  who  pre- 
tend to  be  in  particular  favour  with  "the fairies" 
undertake  to  cure  such  diseases  by*  magic  and 
mysterious  journeys. 

THE  CLURICAUNE. 

In  this  qualily  the  Elf  is  essentially  distinguished 
from  the  She  fro,  by  his  solitary  and  awkward  man- 
ners: the  Cluuicaune  is  never  met  with  in 
company,  but  always  alone.  He  is  said  to  be  much 
more  corporeal,  and  appears  in  the  daytime  as  a 


266 

little  old  man,  with  a  wrinkled  countenance,  in  an 
antiquated  dress.    His  pea-green  coat  is  adorned 
with  large  buttons,  and  he  seems  to  take*  a  par- 
ticular delight  in  having  large  metal  shoe-buckles. 
He  wears  a  cocked  hat  in  the  ancient  French  style,. 
He  is  detested  on  account  of  his  evil  disposition, 
and  his  name  is  used  as  an  expression  of  contempt. 
People  try  to  become  his    master,    and  therefore 
often  threaten  him  :  sometimes  they  succeed  in  out- 
witting him  ;  sometimes  he  is  more  cunning,  and 
cheats  them.     He  employs  himself  in  making  shoes, 
at  the  same  time  whistling  a  tune.     If  he  is  sur- 
prised by  man,  when  thus  engaged,  he  is,  indeed, 
afraid  of  his  superior  strength,  but  endowed  with 
the  power  of  vanishing,  if  he  can  contrive  to  make 
the  mortal  turn   his  eyes  from  him,    even   for  an 
instant. 

The  Cluricaune  possesses  a  knowledge  of  hidden 
treasures,  but  does  not  discover  them  till  he  is 
pressed  to  the  utmost.  He  frequently  relieves 
himself,  when  a  man  fancies  that  he  is  wholly  in  his 
power.  A  common  trick  of  his,  is  infinitely  to 
multiply  the  mark  showing  where  the  treasure  lies, 
whether  it  be  a  bush,  a  thistle,  or  a  branch,  that  it 
may  no  longer  serve  as  a  guide  to  the  person  who 
has  fetched  an  instrument  to  dig  up  the  ground. 

The  Cluricaune  has,  it  is  said,  a  small  leathern 
purse,  with  a  shilling  which,  however  often  he 
may  pay  it  away,  always  returns,  and  which  is 
called  the  lucky  shilling.  He  frequently  carries 
about  him  two  purses,  the  one  contains  the  magic 
shilling  and  the  other  a  copper  coin ;  and  if  com- 
pelled to  deliver,  he  cunningly  presents  the  latter, 
the  weight  of  which  is  satisfactory ;  and  when  the 


*07 

pmoo  who  has  seized  it  is  examining  whether  it  is 
correct,  he  watches  the  opportunity  and  disappears. 

His  enjoyments  consist  in  smoking  and  drinking. 
He  knows  the  secret,  which  the  Danes  are  said  to 
hare  brought  into  Ireland,  of  making  beer  from 
heather.  The  small  tobacco  pipes  of  antique  form, 
which  are  frequently  found  in  Ireland,  in  digging  up 
or  ploughing,  especially  in  the  vicinity  of  those  cir- 
cular entrenchments  called  Danish  forts,  are  sup- 
posed to  belong  to  the  Cluricaunes ;  and  if  they  are 
discovered  broken,  or  in  any  way  damaged,  it  is 
looked  upon  as  a  sort  of  atonement  for  the  tricks 
which  their  pretended  owners  are  presumed  to  have 
played. 

The  Cloricaune  also  appears  connected  with  men, 
and  then  attaches  himself  to  a  family,  with  which  he 
remains  as  long  as  a  member  of  it  survives,  who  are 
at  the  same  time  unable  to  get  rid  of  him.  With  all 
his  propensity  to  mischief  and  roguery,  he  usually 
has  a  degree  of  respect  for  the  master  of  the  house, 
and  treats  him  with  deference.  He  lends  a  helping 
hand,  and  wards  off  secret  dangers ;  but  is  extremely 
angry  and  enraged  if  they  forget  him,  and  neglect 
to  put  his  food  in  the  usual  place. 


i:i:h 


The  Banshee  is  considered  the  "  white  woman,"  or 
the  chief  of  the  Elves.  A  female  spirit,  said  to 
belong  to  certain  families,  generally,  however,  of 
ancient  or  noble  descent,  which  appears  only  to 
announce  the  death  of  one  of  the  members.  The 
Banshee  shows  herself  in  the  vicinity  of  the  house, 
or  at  the  windows,  of  the  sick  person,  clasps  her 


266 

hands,  and  laments  in  tones  of  the  greatest  anguish. 
She  wears  an  ample  mantle,  with  a  hood  over  her 
head. 

THE  PHOOKA. 

The  Phooka  is  said,  by  a  celebrated  author  of  fairy 
lore,  to  be  extremely  obscure  and  indefinite  in  re- 
presentation. People  are  said  to  recollect  it  im- 
perfectly, like  a  dream,  even  though  they  have 
experienced  the  strongest  sensations,  yet  the  Phooka 
is  palpable  to  the  touch.  It  appears  as  a  black 
horse,  an  eagle,  a  bat,  and  compels  the  man  of  whom 
it  has  got  possession,  and  who  is  incapable  of 
making  any  resistance,  to  go  through  various  curious 
adventures  in  a  short  time.  It  hurries  with  him  over 
precipices,  carries  him  up  into  the  moon,  and  down 
into  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  If  a  building  falls  in, 
it  is  imputed  to  the  Phooka.  There  are  numerous 
precipices  and  and  rocky  caverns,  called  "  Phooka 
Caves :"  even  a  waterfall  formed  by  the  Liffey,  in 
the  county  of  Wicklow,  has  derived  its  name  from 
this  spirit.  The  people  prohibit  their  children  from 
eating  blackberries  after  Michaelmas,  and  ascribe 
the  decay  of  that  fruit,  which  takes  place  after  that 
season,  to  the  Phooka !  Shakspearc  records  these 
fairy  ^phantasies  admirably,  thus : — 

"  About,  about, 
h  Windsor  Castle,  Elves,  within,  without  ; 
Strew  good  luck,  OupAes,  on  every  sacred  room, 
That  it  may  stand  till  the  perpetual  doom 
in  state  as  wholesome,  as  in  state  'Us  fit, 
Worthy  the  owner,  and  the  owner  it. 
The  several  chairs  of  orders,  look  you  scour, 
With  juice  of  bairn  and  every  precious  flower. 
Each  fair  instalment,  coat,  and  several  crest, 
With  loyal  blazon  evermore  be  blest. 


269 

And  nightly,  meadow  fairies,  look  you  sing, 
Like  to  the  garter's  compass,  in  a  ring : 
The  expression  that  it  bears,  green  let  it  be, 
More  fertile,  fresh,  thou  all  the  field  to  see. 
And  "  Heny  soit  out  mal  y  pettse,"  write, 
In  emerald  turfs,  flowers  purple,  blue,  and  white  j 
Like  sapphire,  pearl,  and  rich  embroidery, 
Buckled  below  fair  knighthood's  bending  knee, 
Fairies  use  flowers  for  their  charactery. 
Away,  disperse  !  but,  till  'tis  one  o'clock, 
Our  dance  of  custom,  round  about  the  oak 
Of  Herne  the  hunter,  let  os  not  forget." 

Merry  f Fives  of  Windsor. 

THE  FAIRY  LAND  OF  YOUTH. 

Beneath  the  water  (tradition  relates)  there  is  a 
country,  as  well  as  above  the  earth,  where  the 
glorious  sun  shines  forth  in  splendour,  beautiful 
meadows  flourish  in  luxuriance,  trees  put  forth  their 
gaudy  blossoms,  fields  and  woods  vary  the  goodly 
scene,  splendid  cities  and  gorgeous  palaces  arise 
aloft  in  beaming  splendour,  equalled  by  none  on 
earth,  which  are  inhabited  by  legends  of  Fairies  and 
myriads  of  Elves. 

Tradition  relates,  that  if  you  have  found,  at  the 
proper  moment,  the  right  spot  upon  the  banks  of 
the  water,  the  splendid  scene  may  be  easily  beheld. 
Persons  who  are  said  to  have  fallen  in,  and  reached 
this  sub-aqueous  world  without  accident,  on  their 
return  have  related  wonders  of  this  enchanted 
region. 

It  is  called  "  the  Fairy  Land  of  Youth?  for  it  is 
affirmed  that  time  has  no  power  there,  over  years,  or 
months,  or  weeks,  or  days,  or  hours,  or  moments ; 
no  one  ever,  there,  becomes  old ;  no  one  regards 
time  aft  passing  fleetly;  and  those  persons  who 
have  passed  whole  years  there,  nay,  even  an  age, 
have  fancied  the  enchanted  period  as  only  a  moment. 


270 

On  particular  days,  at  the  rising  of  the  sun,  it  is  said, 
the  fairy  inhabitants  appear  above  the  surface  of  the 
water,  decked  forth  in  all  the  resplendent  colours  of 
the  Tainbow,  and  apparelled  like  immortals,  in  never 
fading  garments,  bright,  ethereal,  and  magnificent. 
With  the  song,  the  dance,  and  the  sweetest 
strains  of  enlivening  music,  they  are  said  to  pass 
joyously,  in  a  certain  track  along  the  water,  which 
no  more  yields  to  the  pressure  of  their  little  feet, 
than  the  solid  earth  under  the  foot  of  frail  man,  till 
they  at  length  vanish,  and  disappear  in  mist. 

"  He  ask 'd  bow  many  charming  hours  had  flown 

Since  on  her  slave  her  heaven  of  beauty  shown. 

'  Should  I  consult  my  heart,'  cried  he,  *  the  rate 

Were  small — a  week  would  be  the  utmost  date ; 

Rut  when  my  mind  reflects  on  actions  past, 

And  counts  its  joys,  time  must  have  fled  more  fast : 

Perhaps  I  might  hare  said  three  months  are  gone,' 

'  Three  months !'  replied  the  fair ; '  three  months  alone, 

Know  that  three  hundred  years  ha?e  roll'd  away, 

Since  at  my  feet  my  lovely  phoenix  lay.1 

*  Three  hundred  years ."  re-echoed  back  the  prince, 

*  A  whole  three  hundred  years  completed  since 
Handed  here  I  !" 

The  Enchanted  bain. 

THE  LEGEND  OF  O'DONOGHUE. 

In  an  age,  so  distant  that  the  precise  period  is  un- 
known, a  chieftain,  named  O'Donoghue,  ruled  over 
the  country  which  surrounds  the  romantic  Lough 
Lean,  now  called  the  Lake  of  Killarney.  Wisdom, 
beneficence,  and  justice,  distinguished  his  reign,  and 
the  prosperity  and  happiness  of  his  subjects  were 
their  natural  results. 

He  is  said  to  have  been  as  renowned  for  his 
warlike  exploits  as  for  his  pacific  virtues  ;  and  as  a 
proof  that  his  domestic  administration  was  not  the 
less  vigorous  because  it  was  mild,  a  rocky  island  is 


271 

pointed  out  to  strangers,  called  u  O'Donoghue's 
Prison,"  in  which  this  prince  once  confined  his  own 
son  for  some  act  of  disorder  and  disobedience. 

His  end  (for  it  cannot  correctly  be  called  his 
death)  was  singular  and  mysterious.  At  one  of 
those  splendid  feasts,  for  which  his  Court  was 
celebrated,  surrounded  by  the  most  distinguished 
of  his  subjects,  he  was  engaged  in  a  prophetic 
vision  of  the  events  which  were  to  happen  in  ages  yet 
to  come.  His  auditors  listened  to  his  relation,  — now 
wrapped  in  wonder,  now  fixed  with  indignation, 
burning  with  shame,  or  melted  into  sorrow, — as  he 
faithfully  related  the  heroism,  the  injuries,  the  crimes, 
and  the  miseries,  of  their  descendants. 

In  the  midst  of  his  predictions,  he  rose  slowly 
from  his  seat,  advanced  with  a  solemn,  measured," 
and  majestic  tread,  to  the  shore  of  the  lake,  and 
walked  forward  composedly  upon  its  unyielding 
surface.  When  he  had  nearly  reached  the  centre, 
be  paused  for  a  moment,  then  turning  slowly  round, 
looked  forward  to  his  friends,  and  waving  his  arms 
to  them,  with  the  cheerful  air  of  one  taking  a  short 
farewell,  disappeared  from  their  view. 

The  memory  of  the  "good  (fDonoghue"  has  been 
cherished  by  successive  generations  with  affectionate 
reverence ;  and  it  is  believed  that,  at  sun-rise,  on 
every  May-day  morning,  the  anniversary  of  his 
departure,  he  revisits  his  ancient  domain :  a  favoured 
few  only  are  in  general  permitted  to  see  him,  and  this 
distinction  is  always  an  omen  of  good  fortune  to  the 
beholders.  When  it  is  granted  to  many,  it  is  a  sure 
token  of  an  abundant  harvest— >a  blessing,  the  want 
of  which,  during  this  prince's  reign,  was  never  felt 
by  his  people. 


272 

Some  years  have  elapsed  since  the  last  appearance 
of  O'Donoghue.  The  April  of  that  year  had  been 
remarkably  wild  and  stormy,  but  on  May  morning 
the  fury  of  the  elements  had  altogether  subsided. 
The  air  was  hushed  and  still,  and  the  sky,  which 
was  reflected  in  the  serene  lake,  resembled  a 
beautiful  but  deceitful  countenance,  whose  smiles, 
after  the  most  tempestuous  emotions,  tempt  the 
stranger  to  believe  that  it  belongs  to  a  soul  which 
no  passion  has  ever  ruffled. 

The  first  beams  of  the  rising  sun  were  just  gilding 
the  lofty  summit  of  Glenaa,  when  the  waters,  near 
the  eastern  shore  of  the  lake,  became  suddenly  and 
violently  agitated,  though  all  the  rest  of  its  surface 
lay  smooth  and  still  as  a  tomb  of  polished  marble. 
The  next  moment  a  foaming  wave  darted  forward, 
and,  like  a  proud  high-crested  war-horse,  exulting 
in  his  strength,  rushed  across  the  lake  towards 
Toomies  mountain.  Behind  this  wave,  appeared  a 
stately  warrior  fully  armed,  mounted  upon  a  milk-white 
steed,  and  at  his  back  fluttered  a  light  blue  scarf. 
The  horse,  apparently  exulting  in  his  noble  burthen, 
sprung  after  the  wave  along  the  water,  which  bore 
him  up  like  firm  earth,  while  showers  of  spray, 
that  glittered  brightly  in  the  morning  sun,  were 
dashed  up  at  every  bound. 

The  warrior  was  O'Donoghue ;  he  was  followed 
by  numberless  youths  and  maidens,  who  moved 
light  and  unconstrained  over  the  watery  plain,  as 
the  moonlight  fairies  glide  through  the  fields  of  air. 
They  were  linked  together  by  garlands  of  delicious 
spring  flowers,  and  they  timed  their  movements  to 
strains  of  enchanting  melody.  When  O'Donoghue 
had  nearly  reached  the  western  side  of  the  lake,  he 


273 

suddenly  turned  his  steed,  and  directed  his  course 
along  the  wood-fringed  shore  of  Glenaa,  preceded 
by  the  huge  wave  that  curled  and  foamed  up  as 
high  as  the  horse's  neck,  whose  fiery  nostrils  snorted 
above  it.  The  long  train  of  attendants  followed, 
with  playful  deviations,  the  track  of  their  leader,  and 
moved  on  with  unabated  fleetness  to  their  celestial 
music,  till  gradually,  as  they  entered  the  narrow 
straight  between  Glenaa  and  Din  is,  they  became 
involved  in  the  mists  which  still  partially  floated 
over  the  lakes,  and  faded  from  the  view  of  the 
wondering  beholders !  But  the  sound  of  their  music 
still  fell  upon  the  ear,  and  echo,  catching  up  the 
harmonious  strains,  fondly  repeated  and  prolonged 
them  in  soft  and  softer  tones,  till  the  last  faint 
repetition  died  away,  and  the  hearers  awoke  as  from 
a  dream  of  bliss. 

From  Croflon  Croker'e  delightful  Fairy  Legend*. 


INVOCATION  OF  THE  FAIRY 

QUEEN. 

Prom  the  Life  of  the  celebrated  William  Lilly. 

"  Since  I  have  related  of  the  Queen  of  the  Fairies, 
1  shall  acquaint  you  that  it  is  not  for  every  one,  or 
every  person,  that  these  angelical  creatures  will 
appear  unto,  though  they  may  say  over  the  call 
over  and  over ;  or,  indeed,  is  it  given  to  very  many 
persons  to  endure  their  glorious  aspects.  Even 
very  many  have  failed  just  at  that  present  time  when 
they  are  ready  to  manifest  themselves :  even  persons, 
otherwise  of  undaunted  spirits  and  firm  resolution, 

M  M 


274 

are  herewith  astonished,  and  tremble,  as  it  happened 
not  many  years  since  with  us.  A  very  sober  discreet 
person,  of  virtuous  life  and  conversation,  was 
beyond  measure  desirous  to  see  something  in  this 
nature. 

"  Accordingly  he  went  with  a  friend  into  my 
Hurst  Wood.  The  Queen  of  Fairies  was  invocated : 
a  gentle  murmuring  wind  came  first,  after  that, 
amongst  the  hedges,  a  smart  whirlwind  ;  by  and  by  a 
strong  blast  of  wind  blew  upon  the  face  of  the  friend, 
and  the  Queen  appearing  in  a  most  illustrious  glory, 
€  No  more,  I  beseech  you/  quoth  he,  '  my  heart 
fails — I  am  not  able  to  endure  longer/  Nor  was 
he ;  his  black  curling  hair  rose  up,  and  I  believe  a 
bullrush  would  have  beat  him  to  the  ground. — He 
was  soundly  laughed  at. 

"  There  was,  in  the  times  of  the  late  troubles, 
one  Mortlack,  who  pretended  unto  speculations,  had 
a  crystal,  a  call  of  Queen  Mab,  one  of  the  Queens  of 
fairies  :  he  deluded  many  thereby.  At  last,  /  was 
brought -into  his  company :  he  was  desired  to  make 
invocation.  He  did  so  :  nothing  appeared,  or  would. 
Three  or  four  times,  in  my  company,  he  was  put 
upon  to  do  the  work,  but  could  not :  at  last,  he  said 
he  could  do  nothing  as  long  as  /  was  in  presence. 
I,  at  last,  showed  him  his  error,  but  left  him,  as  I 
found  him,  a  pretended  ignoramus. 

"  I  may  seem,  to  some,  to  write  incredibilia ; — be 
it  so :  but  knowing  unto  whom,  and  for  whose  sake 
only,  I  do  write  them,  I  am  much  comforted  there- 
with, well  knowing  you  are  the  most  knowing  in 
these  curiosities  of  any  now  living  in  England." 

Lilly'*  Life  and  Titan, 


A9LM 

do  bear  Up  moroiog  Urk ; 
Tae©,  my  Qvm,  in  tUeooe  ted, 
Trie  we  afar  the  nlgat'*  Hud* ! 
We  the  globe  caa  cobosm  toon, 

than  the  wandering  moon." 


the;  tylwyth  teg. 

In  the  mountains,  near  Precknock,  there  is  a 
small  lake,  ta  which  tradition  assigns  tt)e  following 
tale; — 

In  ancient  times,  a  door  u\  ft  rock,  near  this  lake, 
was  found  open  upon  a  certain  day  every  year :  I 
think  it  was  jl/tfy-day.  Those  who  had  the  curiosity 
wd  resolution  to  enter,  were  conducted  by  a  secret 
presge,  which  terminated  in  a  small  island  in  the 
centre  of  the  lake,  Here  the  visitors  were  surprise^ 
with  the  prospect  of  a  mart  enchanting  garden,  stored 
with  the  choicest  fruits  and  flowers,  and  inhabited 
by  the  Tylwyth  Teg,  or  fair  family — a  kind  of  fairies 
whose  beauty  could  be.equalled  only  by  the  courtesy 
and  affability  which  they  exhibited  to  those  who 
pleased  them.  They  gathered  fruit  and  flowers  for 
each  of  their  guests,  entertained  them  with  the  most 
exquisite  music,  disclosed  to  them  many  secrets  of 
futurity,  and  invited  them  to  stay  as  long  as  they 
should  find  their  attention  agreeable.  But  the 
island  was  secret,  and  nothing  of  its  produce  must  be 
carried  away. 

The  whole  of  this  scene  was  invisible  to  those  who 
stood  without  the  margin  of  the  lake.  Only  an  indis- 
tinct mass  was  seen  in  the  middle,  and  it  was  observed 
that  no  bird  would  fly  over  the  water,  and  that  a 
soft  8 train  of  music,  at  times,  breathed  with  rapturous 
sweetness  in  the  breeze  of  the  morning. 


It  happened,  upon  one  of  these  annual  visits,  that 
a  sacrilegious  wretch,  when  he  was  about  to  leave 
the  garden,  put  a  flower,  with  which  he  had  been 

m 

presented,  into  his  pocket ;  but  the  theft  boded  him 
no  good.  As  soon  as  he  had  touched  unhallowed 
ground,  the  flower  vanished,  and  he  lost  his  senses. 

Of  this  injury,  the  fair  family  took  no  notice  at 
the  time.  They  dismissed  their  guests  with  their 
accustomed  courtesy,  and  the  door  was  closed  as 
usual.  But  their  resentment  ran  high  :  for  though, 
as  the  tale  goes,  the  Tylwyth  Teg  and  their  garden 
undoubtedly  occupy  the  spot  to  this  day,  though 
the  birds  still  keep  a  respectful  distance  from  the  lake, 
and  some  broken  strains  of  music  are  still  heard  at 
times,  yet  the  door  which  led  to  the  island  was 
never  re-opened ;  and,  from  the  day  of  this  sacri- 
legious act,  the  Cymry  have  been  unfortunate. 

Some  time  after  this,  an  adventurous  person  at- 
tempted to  draw  off  the  water,  in  order  to  discover 
its  contents,  when  a  terrific  form  arose  from  the 
midst  of  the  lake,  commanding  him  to  desist,  or 
otherwise  he  would  drown  the  country. 

"  Come  now  a  roundel,  and  a  fairy  song ; 
Then  for  the  third  part  of  a  minute,  hence : 
Some  war  with  rear -mice  for  their  leathern  wings, 
To  make  my  small  Elves  coats ;  and  some  keep  back 
The  clamorous  owl,  that  Lightly  hoots  and  wonders 
At  our  quaint  spirits.    Sing  me  now  to  sleep \ 
Then  to  your  offices,  and  let  me  rest." 

4.  Midsummer  Night9*  Dr*mn* 


277 


THE  FAIRY  WIFE 

A    MARVELL0U8    LEGEND. 
Translated  from  the  German* 

*  By  way  of  introduction,  let  roe  confess  that  I 
have  not  always  so  arranged  my  scheme  of  life  as  to 
be  certain  of  the  next  period  in  it,  or  even  of  the 
next  day.  In  my  youth  I  was  no  first-rate  economist, 
and  often  found  myself  in  manifold  perplexity.  At 
one  time  I  undertook  a  journey,  thinking  to  derive 
good  profit  in  the  course  of  it :  but  the  scale  I  went 
upon  was  too  liberal ;  and,  after  having  commenced 
my  travel  with  extra-post,  and  then  prosecuted  it 
for  a  time  in  the  diligence,  I  at  last  found  myself 
obliged  to  front  the  end  of  it  on  foot  Like  a  gay 
young  blade,  it  had  been,  from  of  old,  my  custom, 
on  entering  any  inn,  to  look  round  for  the  landlady, 
or  even  the  cook,  and  wheedle  myself  into  favour 
with  her ;  whereby,  for  most  part,  my  shot  was 
somewhat  reduced.  One  night  at  dusk,  as  I  was 
entering  a  post-house  of  a  little  town,  and  purposing 
fo  set  about  my  customary  operations,  there  came  a 
fair  double-seated  coach,  with  four  horses,  rattling 
up  to  the  door  behind  me.  I  turned  round,  and  ob 
served  in  it  a  young  lady,  without  maid,  without 
servants.  I  hastened  to  open  the  carriage  for  her, 
and  to  ask  her  if  I  could  help  her  in  any  thing.  On 
stepping  out,  a  fair  form  displayed  itself ;  and  her 
lovely  countenance,  if  you  looked  at  it  narrowly, 
was  adorned  with  a  slight  shade  of  sorrow.  I  again 
asked  if  there  was  aught  I  could  do  for  her.  "  O 
yes !"  said  she,  "  if  you  will  lift  that  little  box  care- 
fully, which  you  will  find  standing  on  the  seat,  and 


278 

bring  it  in  :  but  I  beg  very  much  of  you  tQ  carry  it 
with  all  steadiness,  and  not  to  move  or  shake  it  in 
the  least,"    I  took  out  the  box  with  great  care ;  she 
shut  the  coach-door ;  we  walked  upstairs  together ; 
and  she  told  the  servants  that  she  was  to  stay  here 
for  the  night.     We  were  now  alone  in  the  chamber : 
she  desired  me  to  put  the  box  on  the  table  which 
was  standing  at  the  wall ;  and  as,  by  several  of  her 
movements,  I  observed  that  she  wished  to  be  alone, 
I  took  my  leave,  reverently  but  warmly  kissing  her 
hand.     "  Order  supper  for  us  two,"  said  she,  then : 
and  you  may  well  conceive  with  what  pleasure  I 
executed  the  commission  ;  scarcely  deigning,  in  the 
pride  of  my  heart,  to  cast  even  a  side  look  at  the  Iand- 
1ady  and  menials.     With  impatience  I  expected  the 
moment  that  was  to  lead  me  back  to  her.     Supper 
was  served  :  we  took  our  seats  opposite  each  other ; 
I  refreshed  my  heart,  for  the  first  time  during  a  con- 
siderable while,  with  a  good  meal;    and  no  less 
with  so  desirable  a  sight  beside  me  ;  nay,  it  seemed 
as  if  she  were  growing   fairer  and    fairer  every 
moment.     Her  conversation  was  pleasant,  yet  she 
carefully  waved  whatever  had  reference  to  affection 
or  love.     The  cloth  was  removed :  I  still  lingered, 
I  tried  all  sorts  of  manoeuvres  to  get  near  her,  but  in 
vain  :  she   kept  me  at  my  distance,  by  a  certain 
dignity  that  I  could  not  withstand ;  nay,  against  my 
will,  I  had  to  part  from  her  at  a  rather  early  hour. 
After  a  night    passed    in    waking    or    unrestfully 
dreaming,  I  rose  early,  inquired  whether  she  had 
ordered  horses,  and  learning  that  she  had  not,  I 
walked  into  the  garden,  saw  her  standing  dressed 
at  the  window,  and  hastened  up  to  her.     Here,  as 
she  looked  so  fair,  and  fairer  than  ever,  love,  roguery. 


279 

and  audacity,  ail  at  once  started  into  motion  within 
we :  I  rushed  towards  her,  and  clasped  her  in  my 
arms.  "Angelic,  irresistible  being!"  cried  I, 
"pardon!  but  it  is  impossible!"  With  incedible 
dexterity  she  whisked  herself  out  of  my  arms,  and  I 
bid  not  even  time  to  imprint  a  kiss  on  her  cheek' 
"Forbear  such  outbreaking!  of  a  sudden,  foolish 
passion,"  said  she,  "  if  you  would  not  scare  away  a 
happiness  which  lies  close  beside  you,  but  which 
cannot  be  hud  hold  of  till  after  some  trials."  "  Ask 
of  me  what  thou  pleaseth,  angelic  spirit !"  cried 
I,  "but  do  not  drive  me  to  despair/'  She  answered 
with  a  smile*  "  If  yon  mean  to  devote  yourself  to 
my  service,  hear  the  terms.  I  am  come  hither  to 
visit  a  lady  of  my  friends,  and  with  her  I  purpose  to 
coatitotte  for  a  time :  in  the  meanwhile,  I  could  wish 
list  my  carriage  and  this  box  were  taken  forward. 
Will  you  engage  with  it  ?  You  have  nothing  to  do, 
but  carefully  to  lift  the  box  into  the  carriage  and  out; 
tositdowo  beside  it,  and  punctually  take  charge  that  it 
receive  no  harm.  When  you  enter  an  inn,  it  is  put 
upon  a  table,  in  a  chamber  by  itself,  in  which  you 
must  neither  sit  nor  sleep.  You  lock  the  chamber- 
door  with  this  key,  which  will  open  and  shut  any 
lock,  and  has  the  peculiar  property  that  no  lock 
shut  by  it  can  be  opened  in  the  interim."  I  looked 
at  her;  I  felt  strangely  enough  at  heart :  I  promised 
to  do  all,  if  I  might  hope  to  see  her  soon,  and  if 
she  would  seal  this  hope  to  me  with  a  kiss.  She 
did  so,  and  from  that  moment  I  had  become 
entirely  her  bondman.  -I  was  now  to  order  horses, 
she  said.  We  settled  the  way  I  was  to  take — the 
places  where  I  was  to  wait,  and  expect  her.  She 
at  last  pressed  a  purse  of  gold  into  my  hand,  and  I 


280 

pressed  my  lips  on  the  fair  hand  that  gave  it  me 
She  seemed  moved  at  parting;  and  for  me,  I  no 
longer  knew  what  I  was  doing  or  was  to  do.  On 
my  return  from  giving  my  orders,  I  found  the  room- 
door  locked.  I  directly  tried  my  master-key,  and 
it  performed  its  duty  perfectly.  The  door  flew  up: 
I  found  the  chamber  empty,  only  the  box  standing 
on  the  table  where  I  had  laid  it.  The  carriage  drove 
up ;  I  carried  the  box  carefully  down  with  me,  and 
placed  it  by  my  side.  The  hostess  asked,  "  Where 
is  the  lady,  then  ?"  A  child  answered,  "  She  is  gone 
into  the  town."  I  nodded  to  the  people,  and  rolled 
off  in  triumph  from  the  door  which  I  had  last  night 
entered  with  dusty  gaiters.  That  in  my  hours  d 
leisure  I  diligently  meditated  on  this  adventure, 
counted  my  money,  laid  many  schemes,  and  still 
now  and  then  kept  glancing  at  the  box,  you  will 
readily  imagine.  I  posted  right  forward,  passed 
several  stages  without  alighting,  and  rested  not  till 
I  had  reached  a  considerable  town,  where  my  fair 
one  had  appointed  me  to  wait.  Her  commands  had 
been  pointedly  obeyed ;  the  box  always  carried  to 
a  separate  room,  and  two  wax  candles  lighted  beside 
it ;  for  such  also  had  been  her  order.  I  would  then 
lock  the  chamber,  establish  myself  in  my  own,  and 
iake  such  comfort  as  the  place  afforded.  For  a 
while,  I  was  able  to  employ  myself  with  thinking  oe 
her ;  but,  by  degrees,  the  time  began  to  hang  heav 
on  my  hands.  I  was  not  used  to  live  without  com* 
panions :  these  I  soon  found  at  tables-d'hdte,  in 
coffee-houses,  and  public  places,  altogether  to  my 
wish.  In  such  a  mode  of  living,  my  money  soon 
began  to  melt  away;  and  one  night  it  vanished 
entirely  from  my  purse,  in  a  fit  of  passionate  gaming, 


2*3 

which  I  had  not  had  the  prudence  to  abandon.  Void 
of  money;  with  the  appearance  of  a  rich  man,  ex- 
pecting a  heavy  bill  of  charges ;  uncertain  whether 
and  when  my  fair  one  would  again  make  her  ap- 
pearance, I  felt  myself  in  the  deepest  embarrassment. 
Doubly  did  I  now  long  for  her ;  and  believe  that, 
without  her  and  her  gold,  it  was  quite  impossible 
for  me  to  live.  After  supper,  which  I  had  relished 
very  little,  being  forced  for  this  time  to  consume  it 
in  solitude,  I  took  to  walking  violently  up  and  down 
my  room  :  I  spoke  aloud  to  myself,  cursed  my  folly 
with  horrid  execrations,  threw  myself  on  the  floor, 
tore  my  hair,  and,  indeed,  behaved  in  the  most  out- 
rageous fashion.  Suddenly,  in  the  adjoining  chamber, 
where  the  box  was,  I  heard  a  slight  movement,  and 
then  a  soft  knocking  at  the  well-bolted  door  which 
entered  from  my  apartment.  I  gather  myself, 
grope  for  my  master-key ;  but  the  door-leaves  fly 
up  of  themselves,  and,  in  the  splendour  of  those 
burning  wax-lights,  enters  my  beauty.  I  cast  my- 
self at  her  feet,  kiss  her  robe,  her  hands  :  she  raises 
me ;  I  venture  not  to  clasp  her,  scarcely  to  look  at 
her,  but  candidly  and  repentantly  confess  to  her 
my  fault.  "  It  is  pardonable,"  said  she,  "  only  it 
postpones  your  happiness  and  mine.  You  must 
now  make  another  tour  into  the  world,  before  we 
can  meet  again.  Here  is  more  money,"  continued 
she,  "  sufficient,  if  you  husband  it  with  any  kind  of 
reason.  But  as  wine  and  play  have  brought  you 
into  this  perplexity,  be  on  your  guard  in  future 
against  wine  and  women,  and  let  me  hope  for  a 
glad  meeting  when  the  time  comes."  She  retired 
over  the  threshold  ;  the  door-leaves  flew  together : 
1  knocked,  I  entreated,  but  nottrng  farther  stirred, 

N  N 


284 

Next  morning,  while  presenting  his  bill,  the  waiter 
smiled,  and  said,  "  So  we  have  found  out  at  last, 
then,  why  you  lock  your  door  in  so  artful  and  incom- 
prehensible a  way  that  no  master-key  can  open  it. 
We  supposed  you  must  have  much  money  and 
precious  ware  laid  up  by  you,  but  now  we  have 
seen  your  treasure  walking  down  stairs ;  and,  in 
good  truth,  it  seemed  worthy  of  being  well  kept." 
To  this  I  answered  nothing,  but  paid  my  reckoning, 
and  mounted   with  my   box   into  the  carriage.    I 
again  rolled  forth  into  the  world,  with  the  firmest 
resolution  to  be  heedful  in  future  of  the  warning 
given  me  by  my  fair  and  mysterious  friend.  Scarcely, 
however,  had  I  once  more  reached  a  large  town, 
when   forthwith    I   got    acquainted    with    certain 
interesting  ladies,  from  whom  I  absolutely  could 
not  tear  myself  away.     They  seemed,  inclined  to 
make  me  pay  dear  for  their  favour  ;  for,  while  they 
kept  me  at  a  certain  distance,  they  led  me  into  one 
expense  after  the  other ;  and  I,  being  anxious  only 
to  promote  their  satisfaction,  once  more  ceased  to 
think  of  my  purse,  but  paid  and  spent  straight  for- 
ward, as  occasion  needed.     But  how  great  was  my 
astonishment  and  joy,  when,  after  some  weeks,  I 
observed  that  the  fulness  of  my  store  was  not  hi 
the  least  diminished,  that  my  purse  was  still  as 
round  and  crammed  as  ever !     Wishing   to   obtain 
more  strict  knowledge  of  this  pretty  quality,  I  set 
myself  down  to  count ;  I  accurately  marked  the 
sum,   and  again   proceeded   in   my  joyous  life  as 
before.     We  had  no  want  of  excursions  by  land, 
and  excursions  by  water ;  of  dancing,  singing,  and 
other  recreations.     But  now  it  required  small  at- 
tention to  observe  that  the   purse    was    actually 


285 

diminishing,  as  if,  by  my  cursed  counting,  I  had 
robbed  it  of  the  property  of  being  uncountable. 
However,  this  gay  mode  of  existence  had  been  once 
entered  on:  I  could  not  draw  back,  and  yet  my 
ready  money  soon  verged  to  a  close.  I  execrated 
my  situation ;  upbraided  my  fair  friend,  for  having 
so  led  me  into  temptation;  took  it  as  an  offence 
that  she  did  not  again  show  herself  to  me ;  re- 
nounced, in  my  spleen,  all  duties  towards  her ;  and 
resolved  to  break  open  the  box,  and  see  if  perad- 
venture  any  help  might  be  found  there.  I  was  just 
about  proceeding  with  my  purpose,  but  I  put  it  off  till 
night,  that  I  might  go  through  the  business  with  full 
composure ;  and,  in  the  mean  time,  I  hastened  off 
to  a  banquet,  for  which  this  was  the  appointed 
hour.  Here,  again,  we  got  into  a  high  key ;  the 
wine  and  trumpet-sounding  had  flushed  me  not  a 
little,  when,  by  the  most  villanous  luck,  it  chanced, 
that  during  the  desert,  a  former  friend  of  my  dearest 
fair  one,  returning  from  a  journey,  entered  unex- 
pectedly, placed  himself  beside  her,  and,  without 
much  ceremony,  set  about  asserting  his  old 
privileges.  Hence,  very  soon  arose  ill-humour, 
quarrelling,  and  battle :  we  plucked  out  our  spits, 
and  I  was  carried  home  half  dead  of  several  wounds. 
The  surgeon  had  bandaged  me  and  gone  away; 
it  was  far  in  the  night ;  my  sick  nurse  had  fallen 
asleep ;  the  door  of  my  side-room  went  up ;  my 
fair  mysterious  friend  came  in,  and  sat  down  by  me 
on  the  bed.  She  asked  how  I  was :  I  answered 
nftt,  for  I  was  faint  and  sullen.  She  continued 
speaking  with  much  sympathy :  she  rubbed  my 
temples  with  a  certain  balsam,  whereby  I  felt 
■nyself   rapidly   and    decidedly    strengthened,    so 


286 

strengthened,  that  I  could  now  get  angry  and  up- 
braid her.     In  a  violent  speech,  I  threw  all  the 
blame  of  my  misfortune  on  her,  on  the  passion  she 
had  inspired  me  with,  on  her  appearing  and  vanish- 
ing, and  the  tedium,  the  longing  which,  in  such  a 
case,  I  could  not  but  feel.     I  waxed  more  and  more 
vehement,  as  if  a  fever  had  been  coming  on  ;  and  I 
swore  to  her,  at  last,  that,  if  she  would  not  be  mine, 
would  not  now  abide  with  me  and  wed  me,  I  had 
no  wish  to  live  any  Ion     r  .  to  all  which,  I  required 
a  peremptory  answer.     As  she  lingered  and  held 
back  with  her  explanation,  I  got  altogether  beside 
myself,  and  tore  off  my  double  and  triple  bandages, 
in  the  firmest  resolution  to  bleed  to  death.     But 
what  was  piy  amazement,  when  I  found   all   my 
wounds  healed,  my  skin  smooth  and  entire,  and 
this  ^fair  friend  in  my  arms  !     Henceforth  we  were 
the  happiest  pair  in  the  world.     We  both  begged 
pardon  of  each  other,  without  either  of  us   rightly 
knowing  why.     She  now   promised    to   travel   on 
along  with  me ;  and  soon  we  were  sitting  side  by 
side  in  the  carriage,  the  little  box  lying  opposite  us 
on  the  other  seat.     Of  this  I  had  never  spoken  to 
her,  nor  did  I  now  think  of  speaking,   though  it  lay 
there  before  our  eyes  ;  and   both  of  us,    by  tacit 
agreement,    took   charge   of   it,    as    circumstances 
might  require  :  I,  however,  still  carrying  it   to  and 
from  the  carriage,  and  busying  myself,  as  formerly, 
with  the  locking  of  the  doors.     So  long  as  aught 
remained  in  my  purse,  I  had  continued  to  pay ;   but 
when  my  cash  went  down,   I   signified  the  fact  to 
her.  ^  "  This  is  easily  helped,"  said  she,  pointing  to 
a  couple  of  little  pouches,  fixed  at  the  top  to  the 
side  of  the  carriage.     These  I  had  often  observed 


287 

before,  but  never  turned  to  use.  She  put  her  hand 
into  one,  and  pulled  out  some  gold  pieces,  as  from 
the  other  some  coins  of  silver ;  thereby  showing  mo 
the  possibility  of  meeting  any  scale  of  expenditure 
which  we  might  choose  to  adopt.  And  thus  we 
journeyed  on  from  town  to  town,  from  land  to  land, 
contented  with  each  other  and  with  the  world  ;  and 
I  fancied  not  that  she  would  again  leave  me ;  the 
less  so,  that  for  some  time  she  had  evidently  been 
as  loving  wives  wish  to  be, — a  circumstance  by 
which  our  happiness  and  mutual  affection  was  in- 
creased still  farther.  But  one  morning,  alas !  she 
could  not  be  found ;  and  as  my  actual  residence, 
without  her  company,  became  displeasing,  I  again 
took  the  road  with  my  box ;  tried  the  virtue  of  the  two 
pouches,  and  found  it  still  unimpaired.  My  journey 
proceeded  without  accident.  But  if  I  had  hitherto 
paid  little  heed  to  the  mysteries  of  my  adventure, 
expecting  a  natural  solution  of  the  whole,  there  now 
occurred  something  which  threw  me  into  astonish- 
ment, into  anxiety,  nay,  into  fear.  Being  wont,  in 
my  impatience  for  change  of  place,  to  hurry  forward 
day  and  night,  it  was  often  my  hap  to  be  travelling 
in  the  dark ;  and  when  the  lamps,  by  any  chance, 
went  out,  to  be  left  in  utter  obscurity.  Once  in 
the  dead  of  such  a  night  I  had  fallen  to  sleep,  and, 
on  awakening,  I  observed  the  glimmer  of  a  light  on 
the  covering  of  my  carriage.  I  examined  this  more 
strictly,  and  found  that  it  was  issuing  from  the  box, 
in  which  there  seemed  to  be  a  chink,  as  if  it  had 
been  chapped  by  the  warm  and  dry  weather  of  summer, 
which  was  now  come  on.  My  thoughts  of  jewels 
again  came  into  my  head ;  I  supposed  there  must 
be  some  carbuncle  lying  in  the  box,  and  this  point 


288 


I  forthwith  *et  about  investigating.  I  postured  my- 
self as  well  as  might  be,  so  that  my  eye  was  in  im- 
mediate contact  with  the  chink.  But  how  great 
was  my  surprise,  when  a  fair  apartment,  well 
lighted,  and  furnished  with  much  taste  and,  even 
costliness,  met  my  inspection,  just  as  if  I  had  been 
looking  down  through  the  opening  of  a  dome  into  a 
royal  saloon !  A  fire  was  burning  in  the  grate,  and 
befoie  it  stood  an  arm  chair*  I  held  my  breath,  and 
continued  to  observe.  And  now  there  entered,  from 
the  other  side  of  the  apartment,  a  lady  with  a  book  in 
her  hand,  whom  I  at  once  recognised  for  my  wife, 
though  her  figure  was  contracted  into  the  extreme  of 
diminution.  She  sat  down  in  the  chair  by  the  fire  to 
read ;  she  trimmed  the  coals  with  the  most  dainty  pair 
of  tongs  ;  and,  in  the  course  of  her  movements,  I  could 
clearly  perceive  that  this  fairest  little  creature  was 
also  in  tlfe  family  way.  But  now  I  was  obliged  to 
shift  my  constrained  posture  a  little,  and  the  next 
moment,  when  I  bent  down  to  look  in  again,  and 
convince  myself  that  it  was  no  dream,  the  light  had 
vanished,  and  my  eye  rested  on  empty  darkness. 
How  amazed,  nay,  terrified,  I  was,  you  may  easily 
conceive.  I  started  a  thousand  thoughts  on  this 
discovery,  and  in  truth  could  think  nothing.  In  the 
midst  of  this,  I  fell  asleep ;  and,  on  awakening,  I 
fancied  that  it  must  have  been  a  mere  dream :  yet  I 
felt  myself  in  some  degree  estranged  from  my  fair 
one ;  and  though  I  watched  over  the  box  but  so 
much  the  more  carefully,  I  knew  not  whether  the 
event  of  her  re-appearance  in  human  size  was  a  thing 
which  I  should  wish  or  dread.  After  some  time,  she 
did,  in  fact,  re-appear :  one  evening,  in  a  white  robe, 
she  came   gliding  in;   and   as    it    was   just    then 


289 

growing  dusky  in  my  room,  she  seemed  to  me  taller 
than  when  I  had  seen  her  last ;  and  I  remembered 
having  heard  that  all  beings  of  the  mermaid  and 
gnome  species  increase  in  stature  very  perceptibly 
at  the  fall  of  night.     She  flew,  as  usual,   to  my 
arms ;  but  I  could  not  with  right  gladness  press  her 
to  my  obstructed  breast.    "  My  dearest/9  said  she, 
"  I  now  feel,  by  thy  reception  of  me,  wliat,  alas  !  I 
know  already  too  well.     Thou  hast  seen  me  in  the 
interim ;  thou  art  acquainted  with  the  state  in  which, 
at  certain  times,  I  find  myself:  thy  happiness  and 
mine  is  interrupted,  nay,  it  stands  on  the  brink  of 
being  annihilated  altogether.     I  must  leave  thee, 
and  1  know  not  whether  I  shall  ever  see  thee  again." 
Her  presence,    the  grace  with  which  she  spoke, 
directly  banished  from  my  memory  almost  every 
trace  of  that  vision,   which,  indeed,  had  already 
hovered  before  me  as  little  more  than  a  dream.     I 
addressed  her  with  kind  vivacity,  convinced  her  of 
my  passion,  assured  her  that  I  was  innocent,  that 
my  discovery  was  accidental ;  in  short,  I  so  managed 
it  that  she  appeared  composed,  and  endeavoured  to 
compose  me.     "Try  thyself   strictly/'    said   she, 
"whether  this  discovery  has   not   hurt  thy  love, 
whether  thou  canst  forget  that  I  live  in  two  forms 
beside  thee,  whether  the  diminution  of  my  being  will 
not  also  contract  thy  affection/'   I  looked  at  her ;  she 
was  fairer  than  ever ;  and  I  thought  within  myself, 
Is  it  so  great  a  misfortune,  after  all,  to  have  a  wife, 
who,  from  time  to  time,  becomes  a  dwarf,  so  that 
one  can  carry  her  about  with  him  in  a  casket? 
W  ere  it  not  much  worse  if  she  became  a  giantess, 
and  put  her  husband  in  the  box?    My  gaiety  of 
heait  had  returned.     I  would  not  for  the  whole 


290 

v/orld  have  let  her  go.     "  Best  heart,"  said  I,  "let 
us  be  and  continue  ever  as  we  have  been.     Could 
either  of  us  wish  to  be  better  ?     Enjoy  thy  con- 
veniency,  and  I  promise  thee  to   guard   the  box 
with  so  much  the  more  faithfulness.     Why  should 
the  prettiest  sight  I  have  ever  seen  in  my  life  make 
a  bad  impression  on  me  ?     How  happy  would  lovers 
be,  could  they  but  procure  such  miniature  pictures ! 
And,  after  all,  it  was  but  a  picture — a  little  sleight- 
of-hand  deception.      Thou  art  trying  and  teasing 
me  ;  but  thou  shalt  see  how  I  will  stand  it,"    "The 
matter   is   more  serious   than  thou  thinkest,"   said 
the  fair  one ;  "  however,  I  am  truly  glad  to  see  thee 
take   it   so   lightly,  for   much   good    may   still  be 
awaiting  us  both.     I  will  trust  in  thee,  and,  for  my 
own  part,  do  my  utmost;  only  promise    me  that 
thou  wilt  never  mention  this  discovery  by  way  of 
reproach.    Another  prayer,  likewise,  I  most  earnestly 
make  to  thee:  be  more  than   ever  on  thy  guard 
against  wine  and  anger."     I  promised  what  she  re- 
quired ;  I  could  have  gone  on  promising  to  all  lengths, 
but  she  herself  turned  aside  the  conversation,  and 
thenceforth   all  proceeded-  in   its    former    routine 
We  had    no    inducement    to    alter    our    place   of 
residence ;  the  town  was  large,  the  society  various ; 
and  the  fine  season  gave  rise  to  many  an  excursion 
and  garden  festival. 

In  all  such  amusements  the  presence  of  my  wife 
was  welcome,  nay,  eagerly  desired,  by  women  as 
well  as  men.  A  kind  insinuating  manner,  joined 
with  a  certain  dignity  of  bearing,  secured  to  her,  on 
all  hands,  praise  and  estimation.  Besides,  she 
could  play  beautifully  on  the  lute,  accompanying  it 
with  her  voice;  and  no  social  night  could  be  per- 


291 

feet,  unless  crowned  by  the  graces  of  this  talent.  I 
will  be  free  to  confess  that  1  have  never  got  much  good 
of  music ;  on  the  contrary,  it  has  always  rather  had  a 
disagreeable  effect  on  me.  My  fair  one  soon  noticed 
this,  and  accordingly,  when  by  ourselves,  she  never 
tried  to  entertain  me  by  such  means:  in  return, 
however,  she  appeared  to  indemnify  herself  while  in 
society,  where,  indeed,  she  always  found  a  crowd  of 
admirers.  And  now,  why  should  I  deny  it,  our  late 
dialogue,  in  spite  of  my  best  intentions,  had  by  no 
means  sufficed  to  abolish  the  matter  within  me :  on 
the  contrary,  my  temper  of  mind  had,  by  degrees, 
got  into  the  strangest  tune,  almost  without  my  being 
conscious  of  it.  One  night,  in  a  large  company, 
this  hidden  grudge  broke  Ipose,  and  by  its  conse- 
quences produced  to  myself  the  greatest  damage. 
When  I  look  back  on  it  now,  I  in  fact  loved  my 
beauty  far  less  after  that  unlucky  discovery :  I  was 
also  growing  jealous  of  her, — a  whim  that  had  never 
struck  me  before.  This  night,  at  table,  I  found 
myself  placed,  very  much  to  my  mind,  beside  my 
two  neighbours — a  couple  of  ladies,  who,  for  some 
time,  had  appeared  to  me  very  charming.  Amid 
jesting  and  soft  small  talk,  I  was  not  sparing  of  my 
wine :  while,  on  the  other  side,  a  pair  of  musical 
dilletanti  had  got  hold  of  my  wife,  and  at  last  con- 
trived to  lead  the  company  into  singing  separately, 
and  by  way  of  chorus.  This  put  me  into  ill-humour. 
The  two  amateurs  appeared  to  me  impertinent : 
the  singing  vexed  me  ;  and  when,  as  my  turn  came, 
they  even  requested  a  solo-strophe  ftpra  me,  I  grew 
truly  indignant,  I  emptied  my  glass,  and  set  it 
down  again  with  no  soft  movement.  The  grace  of 
my  two  fair  neighbours  soon  pacified  me,  indeed ; 

o  o 


292 

but  there  is  an  evil  nature  in  wrath,  when  once  it  is 
set   agoing.     It  went    on  fermenting    within   me, 
though  all  things  were  of  a  kind  to  induce  joy  and 
complaisance.     On   the   contrary,    I   waxed   more 
splenetic  than  ever  when  a  lute  was  produced,  and 
my  fair  one  began  fingering  it,  and  singing,  to  the 
admiration  of  all  the  rest.     Unhappily,  a  general 
silence  was  requested.     So,  then,  I  was  not  even 
to   talk   any  more ;   and  these   tones   were   going 
through  me  like  a  tooth-ach.     Was  it  any  wonder 
that,  at  last,  the  smallest  spark  should  blow  up  the 
mine?    The   songstress   had   just    ended    a    song 
amid  the  loudest  applauses,  when  she  looked  over  to 
me  ;  and  this  truly  with  the  most  loving  face  in  the 
world.    Unluckily,  its  lovingness  could  not  penetrate 
so  far.     She  perceived  that  I  had  just  gulped  down 
a  cup  of  wine,  and  was  pouring  out  a  fresh  one. 
With  her  right  forefinger,  she  beckoned  me  in  kind 
threatening.     "Consider  that  is  wine!"  said  she, 
not  louder  than  for  myself  to  hear  it.     €€  Water  is 
for  mermaids !"  cried  I.     "  My  ladies,"  said  she  to 
my  neighbours,  "crown   the  cup    with    all    your 
gracefulness,    that  it  be   not  too   often  emptied.*' 
"  You  will  not  let  yourself  be  tutored,"  whispered 
one  of  them  in  my  ear.     "  What  ails  the  dwarf  ?" 
cried  I,  with  a  more  violent  gesture,  in  which  I 
overset   the   glass.     "Ah,  what   you  have  spilt!" 
cried  the  paragon  of  women ;  at  the  same  time, 
twanging  her  strings,  as  if  to  lead  back  the  attention 
of  the  company  from  this  disturbance  to  herself. 
Her  attempt  succeeded ;    the  more  completely,  as 
she  rose  to  her  feet,  seemingly  that  she  might  play 
with  greater  convenience,  and  in  this  attitude  con 
tmued  preluding.     At   the  sight  of  the  red  wine 


203 

running  over  the  table-cloth,  I  returned  to  myself. 
I  perceived  the  great  fault  I  had  been  guilty  of,  and 
it  cat  me  through  the  very  heart.  Never  till  now 
had  music  spoten  to  me :  the  first  verse  she  sang 
was  a  friendly  good-night  to  the  company,  here  as 
they  were,  as  they  might  still  feel  themselves 
together.  With  the  next  verse  they  became  as  if 
scattered  asunder;  each  felt  himself  solitary, 
separated,— no  one  could  fancy  that  he  was  present 
any  longer.  But  what  shall  I  say  of  the  last  verse  f 
It  was  directed  to  me  alone :  the  voice  of  injured 
love  bidding  farewell  to  moroseness  and  caprice. 
In  silence  I  conducted  her  home,  foreboding  no 
good.  Scarcely,  however,  had  we  reached  our 
chamber,  when  she  began  to  show  herself  ex* 
eeedingly  kind  and  graceful — nay,  even  roguish: 
she  made  me  the  happiest  of  all  men.  Next 
Burning*,  in  high  spirits  and  full  of  love,  I  said  to 
her,  "Thou  hast  so  often  sung,  when  asked  in 
company, — as,  for  example,  thy  touching  farewell 
song  last  night, — come,  now,  for  my  sake,  and  sing 
me  a  dainty  gay  welcome  to  this  morning  hour,  that 
we  may  feel  as  if  we  mere  meeting  for  the  first 
time."  "  That  I  may  not  do,  my  friend/9  said  she 
seriously.  "  The  song  of  last  night  referred  to  our 
parting,  which  must  now  forthwith  take  place ;  for 
I  can  only  tell  thee,  the  violation  of  thy  promise  and 
oath  will  have  the  worst  consequences  for  us  both : 
thou  hast  scoffed  away  a  great  felicity,  and  I  too 
must  renounce  my  dearest  wishes."  As  I  now 
pressed  and  entreated  her  to  explain  herself  more 
clearly,  she  answered,  "  That,  alas,  I  can  well  do ; 
for,  at  all  events,  my  continuance  with  thee  is  over. 
Hear,  then,  what  I  would  rather  have  concealed  to 


294 

the  latest  times.  The  form  under  which  thou 
sawest  me  in  the  box,  is  my  natural  and  proper 
form :  for  I  am  of  the  race  of  King  Eckwald,  the 
dread  Sovereign  of  the  Dwarfs,  concerning  whom 
authentic  history  has  recorded  so  much.  Our  people 
are  still,  as  of  old,  laborious  and  busy,  and  therefore 
easy  to  govern.  Thou  must  not  fancy  that  the 
dwarfs  are  behindhand  in  their  manufacturing  skill. 
Swords  which  followed  the  foe  when  you  cast  them 
after  him,  invisible  and  mysteriously  binding  chains, 
impenetrable  shields,  and  such  like  ware,  in  old 
times,  formed  their  staple  produce.  But  now  they 
chiefly  employ  themselves  with  articles  of  con- 
venience and  ornament ;  in  which  truly  they  surpass 
all  people  of  the  earth.  I  may  well  say,  it  would 
astonish  thee  to  walk  through  our  workshops  and 
warehouses.  All  this  would  be  right  and  goody  were 
it  not  that  with  the  whole  nation  in  general,  but 
more  particularly  with  the  royal  family,  there  is  ond 
peculiar  circumstance  connected."  She  paused  for 
a  moment,  and  I  again  begged  farther  light  on 
these  wonderful  secrets;  which,  accordingly,  she 
forthwith  proceeded  to  grant.  u  It  is  well  known," 
said  she,  "  that  God,  so  soon  as* he  had  created  the 
world,  and  the  ground  was  dry,  and  the  mountains 
were  standing  bright  and  glorious,  that  God,  I  say, 
thereupon,  in  the  very  first  place,  created  the  dwarfs, 
to  the  end  that  there  might  be  reasonable  beings 
also,  who,  in  their  passages  and  chasms,  might 
contemplate  and  adore  his  wonders  in  the  inward 
parts  of  the  earth.  It  is  farther  well  known,  that 
this  little  race,  by  degrees,  became  uplifted  in  heart, 
and  attempted  to  acquire  the  dominion  of  the  earth : 
for  which  reason  God  then  created  the  dragons,  in 


295 

« 

aider  to  drive  back  the  dwarfs  into  their  mountains; 
Now,  as  the  dragons  themselves  were  wont  to 
nestle  in  the  large  caverns  and  clefts,  and  dwell 
there,  and  many  of  them,  too,  were  in  the  habit  of 
spitting  fire,  and  working  much  other  mischief,  the 
poor  little  dwarfs  were,  by  this  means  thrown  into 
exceeding  straits  and  distress,  so  that,  not  knowing 
what  in  the  world  to  do,  they  humbly  and  fervently 
turned  to  God,  and  called  to  him  in  prayer,  that  he 
would  vouchsafe  to  abolish  this  unclean  dragon 
generation.  But  though  it  consisted  not  with  his 
wisdom  to  destroy  his  own  creatures,  yet  the  heavy 
sufferings  of  the  poor  dwarfs  so  moved  his  com* 
passion,  that  anon  he  created  the  giants,  ordering 
them  to  fight  these  dragons,  and  if  not  root  them 
out,  at  least  lessen  their  numbers.  Now,  no 
sooner  had  the  giants  got  moderately  well  through 
with  the  dragons,  than  their  hearts  also  began  to 
wax  wanton;  and,  in  their  presumption,  they 
practised  much  tyranny,  especially  on  the  good 
little  dwarfs,  who  then  once  more  in  their  need 
turned  to  the  Lord ;  and  he,  by  the  power  of  his 
hand,  created  the  knights,  who  were  to  make  war 
on  the  giants  and  dragons,  and  to  live  in  concord 
with  the  dwarfs.  Hereby  was  the  work  of  creation 
completed  oh  this  side ;  and  it  is  plain,  that  hence- 
forth giants  and  dragons,  as  well  as  knights  and 
dwarfs,  have  always  maintained  themselves  in 
being.  From  this,  my  friend,  it  will  be  clear  to 
thee,  that  we  are  of  the  oldest  race  on  the  earth, — 
a  circumstance  which  does  us  honour,  but,  at  the 
same  time,  brings  great  disadvantages  along  with  it. 
For  as  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  that  can  endure 
for  ever,  but  all  that  has  once  been  great  must 


296 

become  little  and  fade,  it  is  our  lot,  also,  that  ever 
since  the  creation  of  the  world,  we  have  been 
waning  and  growing  smaller,  especially  the  royal 
family,  on  whom,  by  reason  of  their  pure  blood,  this 
destiny  presses  with  the  heaviest  force.  To  remedy 
this  evil,  our  wise  teachers  have  many  years  ago 
devised  the  expedient  of  sending  forth  a  princess  of 
the  royal  house  from  time  to  time  into  the  world, 
to  wed  some  honourable  knight,  that  so  the  dwarf 
progeny  may  be  refected,  and  saved  from  entire  decay  .* 
Though  my  fair  one  related  these  things  with  an 
air  of  the  utmost  sincerity,  I  looked  at  her 
hesitatingly,  for  it  seemed  as  if  she  meant  to  palm 
some  fable  on  me.  As  to  her  own  dainty  lineage,  I 
had  not  the  smallest  doubt :  but  that  she  should 
have  laid  hold  of  me  in  place  of  a  knight,  occasioned 
some  mistrust ;  seeing  I  knew  myself  too  well  to 
suppose  that  my  ancestors  had  come  into  the  world 
by  an  immediate  act  of  creation.  I  concealed  my 
wonder  and  scepticism,  and  asked  her  kindly, 
"  But  tell  me,  my  dear  child,  how  thou  hast  attained 
this  large  abd  stately  shape?  For  I  know  few 
women  that,  in  riches  of  form,  can  compare  with 
thee."  "Thou  shalt  hear,"  replied  she.  "It  is 
a  settled  maxim  in  the  council  of  the  dwarf  kings, 
that  this  extraordinary  step  be  forborne  as  long  as 
it  possibly  can  ;  which,  indeed,  I  cannot  but  say  is 
quite  natural  and  proper.  Perhaps  they  might 
have  lingered  still  longer,  had  not  my  brother,  born 
after  me,  came  into  the  world  so  exceedingly  small, 
that  the  nurses  actually  lost  him  out  of  his  swaddling- 
clothes,  and  no  creature  yet  knows  whither  he  is 
gone.  On  this  occurrence,  unexampled  in  the 
annals   of  dwarfdom,  the  sages  were  assembled; 


297 

and  without  more  ado,  the  resolution  was  taken, 
and  I  sent  out  in  quest  of  a  husband."  "The 
resolution !"  exclaimed  I,  "  that  is  all  extremely 
well.  One  can  resolve,  one  can  take  his  resolution ; 
but  to  give  a  dwarf  this  heavenly  shape,  hon  did 
your  sages  manage  that  ?"  "  It  had  been  provided 
for  already/'  said  she,  "  by  our  ancestors.  In  the 
royal  treasury  lay  a  monstrous  gold  ring.  I  speak  of 
it  as  it  then  appeared  to  me,  when  I  saw  it  in  my 
childhood;  for  it  was  this  same  ring  which  I  have 
here  on  my  finger.  We  now  went  to  work  as 
follows  : — I  was  informed  of  all  that  awaited  me, 
and  instructed  what  I  had  to  do  and  to  forbear.  A 
splendid  palace,  after  the  pattern  of  my  father's 
favourite  summer  residence,  was  then  got  ready :  a 
main  edifice,  wings,  and  whatever  else  you  could 
think  of.  It  stood  at  the  entrance  of  a  large  rock- 
cleft,  which  it  decorated  in  the  handsomest  style. 
On  the  appointed  day,  our  court  moved  thither,  my 
parents  also,  and  myself.  The  army  paraded,  and 
four-and-twenty  priests,  not  without  difficulty, 
carried  on  a  costly  litter  the  mysterious  ring.  It 
was  placed  on  the  threshold  of  the  building,  just 
within  the  spot  where  you  entered.  Many  cere- 
monies were  observed,  and  after  a  pathetic  farewell, 
I  proceeded  to  my  task.  I  stept  forward  to  the  ring, 
hid  my  finger  on  it,  and  that  instant  began  per- 
ceptibly to  wax  in  stature.  In  a  few  moments,  I 
reached  my  present  size,  and  then  I  put  the  ring  on 
my  finger.  But  now,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  the 
doors,  windows,  gates,  flapped  to ;  the  wings  drew 
up  into  the  body  of  the  edifice :  instead  of  a  palace, 
stood  a  little  box  beside  me,  which  I  forthwith 
lifted,  and  carried  off  with  me,  not  without  a  pleasant 


298 

feeling  in  being  so  tall  and  strong :  still,  indeed,  a 
dwarf* to  trees  and  mountains,  to  streams  and  tracts 
of  land,  yet  a  giant  to  grass  and  herbs,  and,  above 
all,   to  ants,   from   whom   we  dwarfs,   not  being 
always  on  the  best  terms  with  them,  often  suffer 
considerable  annoyance.      How  it  fared  with  me  on 
my  pilgrimage,   I  might  tell  thee  at  great  length. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  I  tried  many,,  but  no  one  save  thou 
seemed  worthy  of  being  honoured  to  renovate  and 
perpetuate  the  line  of  the  glorious  Eckwald."    In 
the  course  of  these  narrations,  my  head  had  now  and 
then    kept    wagging,    without    myself   absolutely 
shaking  it.     I  put  several  questions,  to  which  I  re- 
ceived no  very  satisfactory  answers  :  on  the  contrary, 
I  learned,  to  my  great  affliction,  that  after  what  had 
happened,  she  must  needs  return  to  her  parents. 
She  had  hopes  still,  she  said,  of  getting  back  to  me; 
but,  for  the  present,  it  was  indispensably  necessary 
to  present  herself  at  court ;  as  otherwise,  both  for 
her  and  me,  there  was  nothing  but  utter  ruin.     The 
purses  would  soon  cease  to  pay,   and  who  knew 
what  would  be  the   consequences  ?      On   hearing 
that  our  money   would   run  short,   I   inquired  no 
farther  into  consequences  :  I  shrugged  my  shoulders, 
T  was  silent,  and  she  seemed  to  understand  me. 
We  now  packed  up,  and  got  into  our  carriage,  the 
box  standing  opposite  us  ;    in   which,   however,   I 
could  still  see  no  symptoms  of  a  palace.     In  this 
way  we  proceeded  several  stages.     Post-money  and 
drink-money  were  readily  and  richly  paid  from  the 
pouches   to    the   right  and  left,   till,  at   last,   we 
reached  a  mountainous  district ;  and  no  sooner  had 
we  alighted  here,  than  my  fair  one  walked  forward, 
directing  me  to  follow  her  with  the  box.     She  led 


299 

me  by  rather  steep  paths  to  a  narrow  plot  of  green 
ground,  through  which  a  clear  brook  now  gushed  in 
little  falls,  now  ran  in  quiet  windings.     She  pointed 
to  a  little  knoll,  bade  me  set  the  box  down  there, 
then  said,  "  Farewell !  thou  wilt  easily  find  the 
way  back :   remember  me.    I  hope  to  see  thee 
again/    At  this  moment,  I  felt  as  if  I  could  not 
leave  her.     She  was  just  now  in  one  of  her  fine 
days,  or,  if  you  will,  her  fine  hours.    Alone  with  so 
fair  a  being,  on  the  green  sward,  among  grass  and 
flowers,  girt  in  by  rooks,  waters  murmuring  round 
you,  what  heart  could  have  remained  insensible  ?   I 
came  forward  to  seize  her  hand,  to  clasp  her  in  my 
arms;  but  she  motioned  me  back,  threatening  me, 
though  still  kindly  enough,  with  great  danger,  if  I 
did  not  instantly  withdraw.  "  Is  there  no  possibility, 
then"  exclaimed  I,  " of  my  staying  with  thee,  of 
thy  keeping  me  beside  thee?"      These  words   I 
uttered  with  such  rueful  tones  and  gestures,  that  she 
seemed  touched  by  them  ;  and,  after  some  thought, 
confessed  to  me  that  a  continuance  of  our  union  was 
not  entirely  impossible.    Who  happier  than  I  i    My 
importunity,  which  increased  every  moment,  com- 
pelled her  at  last  to  come  out  with  her  scheme,  and 
inform  me  that  if  I  too  could  resolve  on  becoming  as 
little  as  I  had  once  seen  her,  I  might  still  remain 
with  her,  be  admitted  to  her  house,  her  kingdom, 
her  family.    The  proposal  was  not  altogether  to  my 
mind ;  yet,  at  this  moment,  I  could  not  positively 
tear  myself  away;  so,  having  already  for  a  good 
while  been  accustomed  to  the  marvellous,  and  being 
at  all  times  prone  to  bold  enterprises,  I  closed  with 
her  offer,  and  said  she  might  do  with  me  as  she 
pleased.    I  was  thereupon  directed  to  hold  out  the 

p  p 


300 

little  finger  of  my  right  hand  ;  she  placed  her  own 
against  it ;  then,  with  her  left  hand,  she  quite  softly 
pulled  the  ring  from  her  finger,  and  let  it  run  along 
mine.  That  instant,  I  felt  a  violent  twinge  on  my 
finger :  the  ring  shrunk  together,  and  tortured  me 
horribly.  I  gave  a  loud  cry,  and  caught  round  me 
for  my  fair,  one,  but  she  had  disappeared.  What 
state  of  mind  I  was  in  during  this  moment,  I  find 
no  words  to  express  ;  so  I  have  nothing  more  to  say, 
but  that  I  very  soon,  in  my  miniature  size,  found 
myself  beside  my  fair  one  in  a  wood  of  grass-stalks. 
The  joy  of  meeting  after  this  short,  yet  most  strange 
separation— or,  if  you  will,  of  this  re-union  without 
separation — exceeds  all  conception.  I  fell  on  her 
neck,  she  replied  to  my  caresses,  and  the  little  pair 
was  as  happy  as  the  large  one.  With  some 
difficulty  we  now  mounted  a  hill :  I  say  difficulty, 
because  the  sward  had  become  for  us  an  almost  im- 
penetrable forest.  Yet,  at  length,  we  reached  a 
bare  space ;  and  how  surprised  was  I  at  perceiving 
there  a  large  bolted  mass,  which,  ere  long,  I  could 
not  but  recognize  for  the  box,  in  the  same  state  as 
when  I  had  sat  it  down.  "  Go  up  to  it,  my  friend," 
said  she ;  "  and  do  but  knock  with  the  ring,  thou 
shalt  see  wonders."  I  went  up  accordingly,  and  no 
sooner  had  I  rapped,  than  I  did,  in  fact,  witness  the 
greatest  wonder.  Two  wings  came  jutting  out; 
and  at  the. same  time  there  fell,  like  scales  and 
chips,  various  pieces  this  way  and  that;  while 
doors,  windows,  colonnades,  and  all  that  belongs  to 
a  complete  palace,  at  once  came  into  view.  If  ever 
you  have  seen  one  of  Rontchen's  desks,  how,  at  one 
pull,  a  multitude  of  springs  and  latches  get  in 
motion,  and  writing  board  and  writing  materials, 


301 

letter  and  money  compartments,  all  at  once,  or  in 
quick  succession,  start  forward,  you  will  partly 
conceive  how  this  palace  unfolded  itself,  into  which 
my  sweet  attendant  now  introduced  me.  In  the 
large  saloon  I  directly  recognized  the  fire-place 
which  I  had  formerly  seen  from  above,  and  the  chair 
in  which  she  had  then  been  sitting.  And  on  looking 
up,  I  actually  fancied  I  could  still  see  something  of 
the  chink  in  the  dome,  through  which  I  had  peeped 
in.  I  spare  you  the  description  of  the  rest :  in  a 
word,  all  was  spacious,  splendid,  and  tasteful. 
Scarcely  had  I  recovered  from  my  astonishment, 
when  I  heard  afar  off  a  sound  of  military  music. 
My  better  half  sprang  up,  and  with  rapture  an- 
nounced to  me  the  approach  of  his  majesty  her 
father.  We  stepped  out  to  the  threshold,  and  here 
beheld  a  magnificent  procession  moving  towards  us, 
from  a  considerable  cleft  in  the  rock.  Soldiers, 
servants,  officers  of  state,  and  glittering  courtiers, 
followed  in  order.  At  last  you  observed  a  golden 
throng,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  the  king  himself.  So 
toon  as  the  whole  procession  had  drawn  up  before 
the  palace,  the  king,  with  bis  nearest  retinue, 
stepped  forward.  His  loving  daughter  hastened 
out  to  him,  pulling  me  along  with  her.  We  threw 
ourselves  at  his  feet :  he  raised  me  very  graciously ; 
and,  on  coming  to  stand  before  him,  I  perceived 
that  in  this  little  world  I  was  still  the  most  con- 
siderable figure.  We  proceeded  together  to  the 
palace,  where  his  majesty,  in  presence  of  his  whole 
court,  was  pleased  to  welcome  me  with  a  well- 
studied  oration,  in  which  he  expressed  his  surprise 
at  finding  us  here,  acknowledged  me  as  his  son-in- 
law,  and  appointed  the  nuptial  ceremony  to  tako 


302 

place  on  the  morrow.  A  cold  sweat  came  over  me 
as  I  heard  him  speak  of  marriage ;  for  I  dreaded 
this  even  more  than  music,  which  otherwise  ap- 
peared to  me  the  most  hateful  thing  on  earth.  Your 
music-makers,  I  used  to  say,  enjoy  at  least  the  con- 
ceit of  being  in  unison  with  each  other,  and  working 
in  concord ;  for  when  they  have  tweakfed  and 
tuned  long  enough,  grating  our  ears  with  all 
manner  of  screeches,  they  believe  in  their  hearts 
that  the  matter  is  now  adjusted,  and  one  instrument 
accurately  suited  to  the  other.  The  band-master 
himself  is  in  this  happy  delusion ;  and  so  they  set 
forth  joyfully,  though  still  tearing  our  nerves  to 
pieces.  In  the  marriage  state,  even  this  is  not  the 
case ;  for  although  it  is  but  a  duet,  and  you  might 
think  two  voices,  or. even  two  instruments,  might 
in  some  degree  be  attuned  to  each  other,  yet  this 
happens  very  seldom ;  for  while  the  man  gives  out 
one  tone,  the  wife  directly  takes  a  higher  one,  and 
the  man  again  a  higher ;  and  so  it  rises  from  the 
chamber  to  the  choral  pitch— and  farther  and  farther, 
till  at  last  wind  instruments  themselves  cannot 
reach  it.  And  now,  as  harmonical  music  itself  is 
an  offence  to  me,  it  will  not  be  surprising  that  dis- 
harmonical  should  be  a  thing  which  I  cannot  endure. 
Of  the  festivities  in  which  the  day  was  spent,  I 
shall  and  can  say  nothing,  for  I  paid  small  heed  to 
any  of  them.  The  sumptuous  victuals,  the  generous 
wine,  the  royal  amusements,  I  could  not  relish.  I 
kept  thinking  and  considering  what  I  was  to  do. 
Here,  however,  there  was  but  little  to  be  considered. 
I  determined,  once  for  all,  to  take  myself  away,  and 
hide  somewhere.  Accordingly,  I  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  chink  of  a  stone,  where  I  entrenched 


303 

tind  concealed  myself  as  well  as  might  be.  My  first 
care  after  this,  was  to  get  the  unhappy  ring  off  my 
finger, — an  enterprise,  however,  which  would  by  no 
means  prosper,  for,  on  the  contrary,  I  felt  that  every 
pull  I  gave,  the  metal  grew  straiter,  and  cramped 
me  with  violent  pains,  which  again  abated  so  soon 
as  I  desisted  from  my  purpose.  Early  in  the 
morning  I  awoke,  (for  my  little  person  had  slept, 
and  very  soundly),  and  was  just  stepping  out  to 
look  farther  about  me,  when  I  felt  a  kind  of  rain 
coming  on.  Through  the  grass,  flowers,  and  leaves, 
there  fell,  as  it  were,  something  like  sand  and  grit 
in  large  quantities  :  but  what  was  my  horror  when 
the  whole  of  it  became  alive,  and  an  innumerable 
host  of  ants  rushed  down  on  me.  No  sooner  did 
they  observe  m£,  than  they  made  an  attack  on  all 
sides ;  and  though  I  defended  myself  stoutly  and 
gallantly  enough,  they  at  last  so  hemmed  me  in,  so 
nipped  and  pinched  me,  that  I  was  glad  to  hear 
them  calling  to  surrender.  I  surrendered  instantly 
and  wholly ;  whereupon  an  ant  of  respectable 
stature  approached  me  with  courtesy — nay,  with 
reverence,  and  even  recommended  itself  to  my  good 
graces.  I  learned  that  the  ants  had  now  become 
allies  of  my  father-in-law,  and  by  him  been  called 
out  in  the  present  emergency,  and  commissioned  to 
fetch  me  back.  Here  then  was  little  I  in  the  hands 
of  creatures  still  less.  I  had  nothing  for  it  but 
looking  forward  to  the  marriage, — nay,  I  must  now 
thank  heaven,  if  my  father-in-law  were  not  wroth, 
if  my  fair  one  had  not  taken  the  sullens.  Let  me 
skip  over  the  whole  train  of  ceremonies :  in  a  word, 
we  were  wedded.  Gaily  and  joyously  as  matters 
went,  there  were,  nevertheless,  solitary  hours,  in 


304 

winch  you  are  led  astray  into  reflection  ;  and  now 
there  happened  to  me  something  which  had  never 
happened  before :  what,  and  how,  you  shall  learn. 
Everything  about  me  was  completely  adapted  to 
my  present  form  and  wants :  the  bottles  and  glasses 
were  in  a  fit  ratio  to  a  little  toper — nay,  if  you  will, 
better  measure,  in  proportion,  than  with  us.  In  my 
tiny  palate,  the  dainty  tid-bits  tasted  excellently; 
a  kiss  from  the  little  mouth  of  my  spouse  was  still 
the  most  charming  thing  in  nature,  and  I  will  not 
deny  that  novelty  made  all  these  circumstances 
highly  agreeable.  Unhappily,  however,  I  had  pot 
forgotten  my  former  situation.  I  felt  within  me 
a  scale  of  bygone  greatness,  and  it  rendered  me 
restless  and  cheerless.  Now,  for  the  first  time, 
did  I  understand  what  the  philosophers  might  mean 
by  their  ideal,  which  they  say  so  plagues  the  mind 
of  man.  I  had  an  ideal  of  myself,  and  often  in 
dreams  I  appeared  as  a  giant.  In  short,  my  wife, 
my  ring,  my  dwarf  figure,  and  so  many  other  bonds 
and  reslrictions,  made  me  utterly  unhappy,  so  that 
I  began  to  think  seriously  about  obtaining  my 
deliverance.  Being  persuaded  that  the  whole 
magic  lay  in  the  ring,  I  resolved  on  filing  this 
asunder.  From  the  court-jeweller,  accordingly,  I 
borrowed  some  files.  By  good  luck,  I  was  left- 
handed,  as,  indeed,  throughout  my  whole  life,  I 
had  never  done  aught  in  the  right-handed  way.  I 
stood  tightly  to  the  work  ;  it  was  not  small,  for  the 
golden  hoop,  so  thin  as  it  appeared,  had  grown  pro- 
portionably  thicker  in  contracting  from  its  former 
length.  All  vacant  hours  I  privately  applied  to 
this  task;  and  at  last,  the  mstal  being  nearly 
through,    I  was  provident  enough  to   step  out  of 


305 

doors.  This  was  a  wise  measure,  for  all  at  once 
the  golden  hoop  started  sharply  from  my  finger,  and 
my  frame  shot  aloft  with  such  violence,  that  I 
actually  fancied  I  should  dash  against  the  sky; 
and,  at  all  events,  I  must  have  bolted  through  the 
dome  of  our  palace — nay,  perhaps,  in  my  new 
awkwardness,  have  destroyed  this  summer-residence 
altogether.  Here  then  was  I  standing  again;  in 
troth,  so  much  the  larger,  but  also,  as  it  seemed  to 
me,  so  much  the  more  foolish  and  helpless.  On  re- 
covering from  my  stupefaction,  I  observed  the 
royal  strong  box  lying  near  me,  which  I  found  to  bo 
moderately  heavy,  as  I  lifted  it,  and  carried  it  down 
the  foot-path  to  the  next  stage,  where  1  directly 
ordered  horses  and  set  forth.  By  the  road,  I 
soon  made  trial  of  the  two  side-pouches.  Instead 
of  money,  which  appeared  to  be  run  out,  I  found  a 
little  key :  it  belonged  to  the  strong-box,  in  which 
I  got  some  moderate  compensation.  So  long  as 
this  held  out,  I  made  use  of  the  carriage :  by  and 
by  I  sold  it,  and  proceeded  by  the  diligence.  The 
strong-box,  too,  I  at  length  cast  from  me,  having  no 
hope  of  its  ever  filling  again.  And  thus,  in  the 
end,  though  after  a  considerable  circuit,  I  again  re- 
turned to  the  kitchen-hearth,  to  the  landlady,  and 
the  cook,  where  vou  were  first  introduced  to  me." 


306 


A  Legendary  Fragment  of  Supernatural  Interest. 

u  On  the  evening  supposed  to  be  that  preceding 
the  dreadful  event,  M elmoth  had  thrown  an  unusual 
degree  of  tenderness  into  his  manner — he  gazed  on 
her  frequently  with  anxious  and  silent  fondness — 
he  seemed  to  have  something  to  communicate  which 
he  had  not  courage  to  disclose.  Isidora,  well 
versed  in  the  language  of  the  countenance,  which  is 
often,  more  than  that  of  words,  the  language  of  the 
heart,  intreated  him  to  tell  her  what  he  looked. 
4  Your  father  is  returning,'  said  Melmoth,  reluctantly. 
'  He  will  certainly  be  here  in  a  few  days,  perhaps 
in  a  few  hours.'  Isidora  heard  him  in  silent  horror. 
*  My  father !'  she  cried — '  I  have  never  seen  my 
father. — Oh,  how  shall  I  meet  him  now  !  And  is 
my  mother  ignorant  of  this  ? — would  she  not  have 
apprised  me?'  'She  is  ignorant  at  present,  but 
she  will  not  long  be  so.'  '  And  from  whence 
could  you  have  obtained  intelligence  that  she  is 
ignorant  of?'  Melmoth  paused  some  time, — his 
features  assumed  a  more  contracted  and  gloomy 
character  than  they  had  done  latterly — he  answered 
with  slow  and  stern  reluctance — '  Never  again  ask 
me  that  question — the  intelligence  that  I  can  give 
you  must  be  of  more  importance  to  you  than  the 
means  by  which  I  obtain  it — enough  for  you  that  it 
is  true.'     '  Pardon  me,  love,'  said  Isidora;  'it  is 


30? 

probable  that  I  may  never  again  offend  you— will 
70a  not,  then,  forgive  my  last  offence  V 

"  Melmoth  teemed  too  intently  occupied  with  hit 
own  thoughts  to  answer  even  her  tears.  He  added, 
after  a  short  and  sullen  pause,  '  Your  betrothed 
bridegroom  is  coming  with  your  father — Montilla's 
father  it  dead— the  arrangements  are  all  concluded 
for  your  nuptials — your  bridegroom  is  coming  to 
wed  the  wife  of  another — with  him  comes  your  fiery, 
foolish  brother,  who  has  set  out  to  meet  his  father 
and  hit  future  relative.  There  will  be  a  feast  pre- 
pared in  the  house  on  the  occasion  of  your  future 
nuptials — you  may  hear  of  a  strange  guest  appearing 
at  your  festival — I  will  be  there !' 

*  Isidora  stood  stupified  with  horror.  '  Festival  P 
die  repeated — 'a  bridal  festival! — and  I  already 
wedded  to  you,  and  about  to  become  a  mother  V 


"  At  this  moment  the  trampling  of  may  horsemen 
was  heard  as  they  approached  the  villa — the 
tumult  of  the  domestics  hurrying  to  admit  and  re- 
ceive them,  resounded  through  the  apartments — 
and  Melmotb,  with  a  gesture  that  seemed  to  Isidora 
rather  like  a  menace  than  a  farewell,  instantly  dis- 
appeared ;  and  within  an  hour,  Isidora  knelt  to  the 
father  the  had  never  till  then  beheld — suffered  her- 
self to  be  saluted  by  Montilla— and  accepted  the 
embrace  of  her  brother,  who,  in  the  petulance  of 
his  spirit,  half  rejected  the  chill  and  altered  form 

that  advanced  to  greet  him. 

#  »  •  #  • 

u  Every  thipg  at  the  family  meeting  was  con- 
ducted in  the  true  Spanish  formality.  Aliaga  kitted 
the  odd  hand  of  his  withered  wife — the  num 

a  <4 


308 

domestics  exhibited  a  grave  joy  at  the  return  of 
their  master — Fra  Jose  assumed  increased  im- 
portance, and  called  for  dinner  in  a  louder  tone. 
Montilla,  the  lover,  a  cold  and  quiet  character, 
took  things  as  they  occurred. 

"  Every    thing   lay  hushed  under  a  brief  and 
treacherous  calm.     Isidora,  who  trembling  at  the 
approaching  danger,  felt  her  terrors  on  a  sudden 
suspended.     It  was  not  so  very  near  as  she  appre- 
hended ;  and  she  bore  with  tolerable  patience  the 
daily  mention  of  her  approaching  nuptials,  while 
she  was  momently  harassed   by  her   confidential 
servants  with  hints  of  the  impossibility  of  the  event 
of  which   they  were  in  expectation,  being  much 
longer  delayed.     Isidora  heard,   felt,   endured   all 
with    courage — the    grave    congratulation    of   her 
father  and  mother — the  self-complacent  attentions 
of  Montilla,  sure  of  the  bride  and  of  her  dower — the 
sullen  compliance  of  the  brother,  who,   unable  to 
refuse   his  consent,  was  for  ever  hinting  that  Am 
sister  might  have  formed  a  higher  connexion.     All 
these   passed   over   her   mind    like   a  dream — the 
reality  of  her  existence  seemed  internal,  and  she 
said  to  herself,    *  Were  I  at  the  altar,   were  my 
hand  locked  in  that  of  Montilla,  Melmoth  would  rend 
me  from  him.'     A  wild  but  deeply-fixed  conviction 
— a  wandering  image  of  preternatural  power,  over- 
shadowed her  mind  while  she  thought  of  Melmoth; 
and  this   image,   which  had   caused  her  so  much 
terror  and  inquietude  in  her  early  hours  of  love,  now 
formed  her  only  resource  against  the  hour  of  incon- 
ceivable suffering ;  as  those  unfortunate  females  in 
the  Eastern  Tales,  whose  beauty  has  attracted  the 
fearful  passion  of  some  evil  genii,  are  supposed  to 


depend,  at  their  nuptiftl  ^bato%  joa  Jtfce  pretence  of 
the  seducing  spirit,  to  tear  frem  the  arms  of  the 
agonised  parent,  and  the  distracted  bridegroom,  the 
victim  whom  he  has  reserved  for  himself,  and  whose 
wild  devotion  to  him  gives  a  dignity  to  the  union. so 

unhallowed  and  unnatural. 

*  *  #  *  * 

"  Aliaga's  heart  expanded  amid  the  approaching 
completion  of  the  felicitous  plans  he  had  formed, 
and  with  his  heart,  his  purse,  which  was  its  de- 
pository, opened  also,  and  he  resolved  to  give  a 
splendid  fete  in  honour  of  his  daughter's  nuptials. 
Isidora  remembered  Melmoth's  prediction  of  a  fatal 
festival;  and  his  words,  *  I  will  be  there,'  gave  her 
for  a  time  a  kind  of  trembling  confidence.  But  as  the 
preparations  were  carried  on  under  her  very  eye,— 
as  she  was  hourly  consulted  about  the  disposal  pf 
the  ornaments,  and  the  decorations  of  the  apart- 
ments, — her  resolution  failed,  and  while  she  uttered 
a  few  incoherent  words,  her  eye  was  glazed  with 
horror. 

"The  entertainment  was  to  be  a  masked  tall ; 
and  Istdora,  who  imagined  that  this  might  suggest 
to  Melmoth  some  auspicious  expedient  for  b$r 
escape,  watched  in  vain  for  some  hint  of  hope, — 
some  allusion  to  the  probability  of  this  event  facili- 
tating her  extrication  from  those  snares  of  de^th 
that  seemed  compassing  her  about.  He  pever 
uttered  a  word,  and  her  dependence  on  him  was  at 
one  moment  confirmed,  at  another  shaken  to  its 
foundation,  by  this  terrible  silence.  In  one  of 
these  latter  moments,  the  anguish  of  which  was  in- 
creased beyond  expression  by  a  conviction  that  her 
hour  of  danger  was  not  far  distant,  she  exclaimed  to 


312 

fcirds— when  thy  haad,  O  Thou  whom  1  ..tas.jtpt 
tall  father,  is  on  them,  they  scream  and  quiver, 
(though  the  gentle  pressure  is  intended  only  to 
convey  the  wanderer  back  to  his  cage-r^w-bile,  to 
shun  the  light  fear  that  scares  the  senses,  tihey,  ru&h 
into  the  snare  that  is  spread  in  their  sight,  and 
•where  their  captivity  is  hopeless !'  As  he  spoke, 
^hastily  traversing  the  room,  his  foot  struck  against  a 
chair  on  which  a  gorgeous  dress  was  spread.  '  What 
is  this  V  he  exclaimed — «  What  idiot » trumpery, 
what  May-queen  foolery  is  this  V  '  It  is  the  habit  I 
am  to  wear  at  the  feast  to-night/  said  Isidora— 
*  My  attendants  are  coming -r-I  hear  them  at  the 
-door — oh,  with  what  a  throbbing,  heart  I  shall  put 
on  this  glittering  mockery! — 'But  -you  .will  not 
desert  me  then?'  she  added,  with  wild  and  breath- 
less anxiety.  '  Fear  not,'  said  Mel  moth,  solemnly 
— 'you  have  demanded  my  aid,  and  it  shall.be  ac- 
corded. May  your  heart  tremble  no  more  when 
you  throw  off  that  habit,  than  now.  when  you>are 
about  to  put  it  on !' 

"The  hour  approached,  and  the  guests  -were 
arriving.  Isidora,  arrayed  in  a  splendid  and. fanciful 
garb,  and  rejoicing  in  the  shelter  which  her  .mask 
afforded  to  the  expression  of  her  pale  features, 
mingled  among  the  groupe.  She  walked  one 
measure  with  Montilla,  and  then  declined  dancing 
on  the  pretence  of  assisting .  her  mother  in  receiving 
and  entertaining  her  guests* 

"After  a  sumptuous  banquet,  dancing  was  re- 
newed in  the  spacious  .hall,  and  Isidora  followed 
the  company  thither  with  a  beating  heart.  Twelve 
was  the  hour  at  which  Melmoth  had  promised  to 
meet  her,  and  by  the  clock,  which  was  placed  over 


313 

the  door  of  the  hall,  she  saw  it  wanted  but  a  quarter 
to  twelve.  The  hand  moved  on — it  arrived  at  the 
houf— the  clock  struck !  Isidora,  whose  eyes  had 
been  rivetted  on  its  movements,  now  withdrew  them 
in  despair.  At  that  moment  she  felt  her  arm 
gently  touched,  and  one  of  the  maskers,  bending 
towards  he**,  whispered,  '  /  am  here  V  and  he  added 
the  sign  which  Mel  moth  and  she  had  agreed  on  as 
the  signal  of  their  meeting.  Isidore,  unable  to 
reply,  could  only  return  the  sign.  '  Make  haste/ 
he  added — *  all  is  arranged  for  your  flight — there  is 
not  a  moment  to  be  lost — I  will  leave  you  now,  but 
meet  me  in  a  few  moments  in  the  western  portico — 
the  lamps  are  extinguished  there,  and  the  servants 
have  neglected  to  re-light  them — be  silent  and  be 
swift!9  He  disappeared  as  he  spoke,  and  Isidore, 
after  a  few  moments,  followed  him.  Though  the 
portico  was  dark,  a  faint  gleam  from  the  splendidly 
illuminated  rooms  disclosed  to  her  the  figure  of 
Mel  moth.  He  drew  her  arm  under  his  in  silence, 
and  proceeded  to  hurry  her  from  the  spot.  *  Stop, 
villain,  stop  V  exclaimed  the  voice  of  her  brother, 
who,  followed  by  Montilla,  sprung  from  the  balcony 
— •  Where  do  you  drag  my  sister ! — and  you,  de- 
graded wretch,  where  are  you  about  to  fly,  and  with 
whom?'  Melmoth  attempted  to  pass  him,  sup- 
porting Isidore  with  one  arm,  while  the  other  was 
extended  to  repel  his  approach  ;  but  Fernan,  drawing 
his  sword,  placed  himself  directly  in  their  way,  at 
the  same  time  calling  on  Montilla  to  raise  the  house- 
hold, and  tear  Isidore  from  his  arms.  *  Off,  fool — 
off  r  exclaimed  Melmoth — '  Rush  not  on  destruction  I 
— I  seek  not  your  life— one  victim  of  your  house  is 
enough — let  us  pass  ere  you  perish !       '  Boaater, 


314 

prove  your  words!9  said  Fernan, '  making  a  des- 
perate thrust  at  him,  which  Melmoth  coolly  put  by 
with  his  hand.  'Draw,  coward!'  cried  Fenian, 
rendered  furious  by  this  action — '  My  next  will  be 
more  successful !'  Melmoth  slowly  drew  his  sword. 
'  Boy  !'  said  he  in  an  awful  voice — '  if  I  turn  this 
point  against  you,  your  life  is  not  worth  a  moment's 
purchase— be  wise,  and  let  us  pass.'  Fernan  made 
no  answer  but  by  a  fierce  attack,  which  was  in- 
stantly met  by  his  antagonist. 

"  The  shrieks  of  Isidora  had  now  reached  the  ears 
of  the  revellers,  who  rushed  in  crowds  to  the  garden 
— the  servants  followed  them  with  flambeaux, 
snatched  from  the  walls  adorned  for  this  ill-omened 
festival,  and  the  scene  of  the  combat  was  in  a 
moment  as  light  as  day,  and  surrounded  by  a 
hundred  spectators. 

€< '  Part  them — part  them — save  them !'  shrieked 
Isidora,  writhing  at  the  feet  of  her  father  and 
mother,  who,  with  the  rest,  were  gazing  in  stupid 
horror  at  the  scene — '  Save  my  brother — save  my 
husband !'  The  whole  dreadful  truth  rushed  on 
Donna  Clara's  mind  at  these  words,  and  casting  a 
conscious  look  at  the  terrified  priest,  she  fell  to  the 
ground.  The  combat  was  short  as  it  was  unequal, 
— in  two  moments  Melmoth  passed  the  sword  twice 
through  the  body  of  Fernan,  who  sunk  beside 
Isidora,  and  expired !  There  was  a  universal  pause 
of  horror  for  some  moments :  at  length  a  cry  of — 
*  Seize  the  murderer!'  burst  from  every  lip  and 
the  crowd  began  to  close  around  Melmoth  He 
attempted  no  defence.  He  retreated  a  few  paces, 
and  sheathing  his  sword,  waved  them  back  only 
with   his   arm;    and   this   movement,  that  seemed 


315 

to  announce  an  internal  power  above  all  physical 
force,  had  the  effect  of  nailing  every  spectator  to  the 
spot  where  he  stood. 

"The  light  of  the  torches,  which  the  trembling 
servants  held  up  to  gaze  on  him,  fell  full  on  his 
countenance,  and  the  voices  of  a  few  shuddering 
speakers  exclaimed,  'MELMOTH  THE  WANDERER  r 
4 1  am — I  am  V  said  that  unfortunate  being ;  '  and 
who  now  will  oppose  my  passing — who  will  become 
my  companion  ?  I  seek  not  to  injure  now — but  ] 
will  not  be  detained.  Would  that  breathless  fool 
had  yielded  to  my  bidding,  not  to  my  sword — there 
was  but  one  human  chord  that  vibrated  in  my  heart 
—it  is  broken  to-night,  and  for  ever !  I  will  never 
tempt  woman  more  !  Why  should  the  whirlwind, 
that  can  shake  the  mountains,  and  overwhelm 
cities  with  its  breath,  descend  to  scatter  the  leaves 
of  the  rose-bud  V  As  he  spoke,  his  eyes  fell  on  the 
form  of  Isidora,  which  lay  at  his  feet  extended 
beside  that  of  Fernan.  He  bent  over  it  for  a 
moment — a  pulsation  like  returning  life  agitated 
her  frame.  He  bent  nearer — he  whispered,  un- 
heard by  the  rest,  '  Isidora,  will  you  fly  with  me  ?— 
this  is  the  moment — every  arm  is  paralyzed — every 
mind  is  frozen  to  its  centre  ! — Isidora,  rise  and  fly 
with  me — this  is  your  hour  of  safety  P  Isidora,  who 
recognized  the  voice  but  not  the  speaker,  raised 
herself  for  a  moment — looked  on  Melmoth— cast  a 
glance  on  the  bleeding  bosom  of  Fernan,  and  fell  on 
it  dyed  in  that  blood  Melmoth  started  up — there 
was  a  slight  movement  of  hostility  among  some  of 
the  guests — he  turned  one  brief  and  withering  glance 
on  them — they  stood  every  man  his  hand  on  his 
sword,  without  the  power  to  draw  them,  and  the 

R  R 


316 

very  domestics  held  up  the  torches  in  their  trembling 
hands,  as  if  with  involuntary  awe  they  were  lighting 
him  out.  So  he  passed  on  unmolested  amid  the 
group,  till  he  reached  the  spot  where  Aiiaga, 
stupified  with  horror,  stood  beside  the  bodies  of  his 
son  and  daughter.  '  Wretched  old  man P  he  ex- 
claimed, looking  on  him  as  the  unhappy  father 
strained  his  glazing  and  dilated  eyes  to  see  who 
spoke  to  him,  and  at  length  with  difficulty  recognized 
the  form  of  the  stranger — the  companion  of  his 
fearful  journey  some  months  past — €  Wretched  old 
man ! — you  were  warned — but  you  neglected  the 
warning — I  adjured  you  to  save  your  daughter — / 
best  knew  her  danger — you  saved  your  gold — now 
estimate  the  value  of  the  dross  you  grasped,  and 
the  precious  ore  you  dropt !  I  stood  between  myself 
and  her — I  warned — I  menaced — it  was  not  for  me 
to  intreat.  Wretched  old  man — see  the  result  P— 
and  he  turned  slowly  to  depart.  An  involuntary 
sound  of  execration  and  horror,  half  a  howl  and 
half  a  hiss,  pursued  his  parting  steps,  and  the  priest, 
with  a  dignity  that  more  became  his  profession  than 
bis  character,  exclaimed  aloud,  '  Depart  accursed, 
and  trouble  us  not — go,  cursing  and  to  curse.'  'I 
go  conquering  and  to  conquer,'  answered  Melmoth, 
with  wild  and  fierce  triumph — *  wretches !  your 
vices,  your  passions,  and  your  weaknesses,  make 
you  my  victims.  Upbraid  yourselves,  and  not  me. 
Heroes  in  your  guilt,  but  cowards  in  your  despair, 
you  would  kneel  at  my  feet  for  the  terrible  immunity 
with  which  I  pass  through  you  at  this  moment. — I 
go  accursed  of  every  human  heart,  yet  untouched  by 
one  human  hand  P  As  he  retired  slowly,  the 
murmur  of  suppressed  but  instinctive  and   irre 


317 

pressible  horror  and  hatred  burst  from  the  group. 
He  past  on  scowling  at  them  like  a  lion  on  a  pack 
of  bayed  hounds,  and  departed  unmolested — tin- 
assayed — no  weapon  was  drawn — no  arm  was  lifted 
—the  mark  was  on  his  brow, — and  those  who 
could  read  it  knew  that  all  human  power  was  alike 
forceless  and  needless, — and  those  who  could  not 
succumbed  in  passive  horror.  Every  sword  was  in 
its  sheath  as  Melmoth  quitted  the  garden.  '  Leave 
him  to  God !'  was  the  universal  exclamation.  '  You 
could  not  leave  him  in  worse  hands/  exclaimed 
Fra  Jose — *  He  will  certainly  be  damned — and — 
that  is  some  comfort  to  this  afflicted  family.' 

"  In  less  than  half  an  hour,  the  superb  apartments, 
the  illuminated  gardens  of  Aliaga,  did  not  echo  a 
footstep ;  all  were  gone,  except  a  few  who  lingered, 
some  from  curiosity,  some  from  humanity,  to 
witness  or  condole  with  the  sufferings  of  the 
wretched  parents.  The  sumptuously  decorated 
garden  now  presented  a  sight  horrid  from  the  con* 
trasted  figures  and  scenery.  The  domestics  stood 
like  statues,  holding  the  torches  still  in  their  hands 
— Isidora  lay  beside  the  bloody  corse  of  her  brother, 
till  an  attempt  was  made  to  remove  it,  and  then  she 
clung  to  it  with  a  strength  that  required  strength  to 
tear  her  from  it— Aliaga,  who  had  not  uttered  a 
word,  and  scarcely  drawn  a  breath,  sunk  on  his 
knees  to  curse  his  half-lifeless  daughter — Donna 
Clara,  who  still  retained  a  woman's  heart,  lost  all 
fear  of  her  husband  in  this  dreadful  emergency,  and, 
kneeling  beside  him,  held  his  uplifted  hands,  and 
struggled  hard  for  the  suspension  of  the  malediction 
— Fra  Jose,  the  only  one  of  the  group  who  ap- 
peared to  possess  any  power  of  recollection  or  of 


318 

mental  sanity,  addressed  repeatedly  to  Isidora  the 
question,  '  Are  you  married, — and  married  to  that 
fearful  being  V  4  1  am  married !'  answered  the 
victim,  rising  from  beside  the  corse  of  her  brother. 
*  I  am  married  V  she  added,  glancing  a  look  at  her 
splendid  habit,  and  displaying  it  with  a  frantic 
laugh.  A  loud  knocking  at  the  garden  gate  was 
heard  at  this  moment.  ?  I  am  married  !'  shrieked 
Isidora,  'and  here  comes  the  witness  of  my 
nuptials  V 

€t  As  she  spoke,  some  peasants  from  the  neigh- 
bourhood, assisted  by  the  domestics  of  Don  Aliaga, 
brought  in  a  corse,  so  altered  from  the  fearful 
change  that  passes  on  the  mortal  frame,  that  the 
nearest  relative  could  not  have  known  it.  Isidora 
recognized  it  in  a  moment  for  the  body  of  the  old 
domestic  who  had  disappeared  so  mysteriously  on 
the  night  of  her  frightful  nuptials.  The  body  had 
been  discovered  but  that  evening  by  the  peasants ; 
it  was  lacerated  as  by  a  fall  from  rocks,  and  so  dis- 
figured and  decayed  as  to  retain  no  resemblance  to 
humanity.  It  was  recognizable  only  by  the 
livery  of  Aliaga,  which,  though  much  defaced,  was 
still  distinguishable  by  some  peculiarities  in  the 
dress,  that  announced  that  those  defaced  garments 
coveted  the  mortal  remains  of  the  old  domestic. 
' There!'  cried  Isidora,  with  delirious  energy — 
'  there  is  the  witness  of  my  fatal  marriage  V 

"  Fra  Jose  hung  over  the  illegible  fragments  of 
that  whereon  nature  had  once  written — '  This  is  a 
human  being/  and,  turning  his  eyes  on  Isidora,  with 
involuntary  horror  he  exclaimed,  '  Your  witness  is 
dumb  V  As  the  wretched  Isidora  was  dragged  away 
by  those  who  surrounded  her,  she  felt  the  first  throe3 


319 

of  maternal  suffering,  and  exclaimed,  'Oh!  there 
will  be  a  living  witness — if  you  permit  it  to  live !' 
Her  words  were  soon  realized ;  she  was  conveyed  to 
her  apartment,  and  in  a  few  hours  after,  scarcely 
assisted  and  wholly  un pi  tied  by  her  attendants,  gave 
birth  to  a  daughter. 

"  This  event  excited  a  sentiment  in  the  family  at 
once  ludicrous  and  horrible.  Aliaga,  who  had  re- 
mained in  a  state  of  stupefaction  since  his  son's 
death,  uttered  but  one  exclamation — '  Let  the  wife 
of  the  sorcerer,  and  their  accursed  offspring,  be 
delivered  into  the  hands  of  the  merciful  and  holv 
tribunal,  the  Inquisition/  He  afterwards  muttered 
something  about  his  property  being  confiscated,  but 
to  this  nobody  paid  any  attention.  Donna  Clara 
was  almost  distracted  between  compassion  for  her 
Wretched  daughter,  and  being  grandmother  to  an 
infant  demon,  for  such  she  deemed  the  child  of 
•  Mclmoth  the  Wanderer'  must  be— and  Fra  Jose, 
while  he  baptized  the  infant  with  trembling  hands, 
almost  expected  a  fearful  sponsor  to  appear  and 
blast  the  rite  with  his  horrible  negative  to  the  appeal 
made  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  holy  among 
Christians.  The  baptismal  ceremony  was  per- 
formed, however,  with  an  omission  which  the  good- 
natured  priest  overlooked — there  was  no  sponsor — 
the  lowest  domestic  in  the  house  declined  with 
horror  the  proposal  of  being  sponsor  for  the  child  of 
that  terrible  union.  The  wretched  mother  heard 
them  from  her  bed  of  pain,  and  loved  her  infant 
better  for  its  utter  destitution. 

*  »  *  *  • 

u  A  few  hours  put  an  end  to  the  consternation  of 
the  family,  on  the  score  of  religion  at  least.     The 


320 

officers  of  the  Inquisition  arrived,  armed  with  all  the 
powers  of  their  tribunal,  and  strongly  excited  by  the 
report,  that  the  Wanderer  of  whom  they  had  been 
long  in  search,  had  lately  perpetrated  an  act  that 
brought  him  within  the  sphere  of  their  jurisdiction, 
by  involving  the  life  of  the  only  being  his  solitary 
existence  held  alliance  with.  €  We  hold  him  by  the 
cords  of  a  man/  said  the  chief  inquisitor,  speaking 
more  from  what  he  read  than  what  he  felt — '  if  he 
burst  these  cords  he  is  more  than  man.  He  has  a 
wife  and  child,  and  if  there  be  human  elements  in 
him,  if  there  be  any  thing  mortal  clinging  to  his 
heart,  we  shall  wind  round  the  roots  of  it,  and 
extract  it.' 

*  *  *  ¥  * 

"  It  was  not  till  after  some  weeks,  that  Isidora 
recovered  her  perfect  recollection.  When  she  did, 
she  was  in  a  prison,  a  pallet  of  straw  was  her  bed, 
a  crucifix  and  a  death's  head  the  only  furniture  of 
her  cell ;  the  light  struggled  through  a  narrow  grate, 
and  struggled  in  vain,  to  cast  one  gleam  on  the 
squalid  apartment  that  it  visited  and  shrunk  from. 
Isidora  looked  round  her — she  had  light  enough  to 
see  her  child — she  clasped  it  to  her  bosom,  from 
which  it  had  unconsciously  drawn  its  feverish 
nourishment,  and  wept  in  ecstasy.  '  It  is  my  own,' 
she  sobbed,  '  and  only  mine !  It  has  no  father — he 
is  at  the  ends  of  the  earth — he  has  left  me  alone — 
but  I  am  not  alone  while  you  are  left  to  me  V 

"  She  was  left  in  solitary  confinement  for  many 
days,  undisturbed  and  unvisited.  The  persons  in 
whose  hands  she  was  had  strong  reasons  for  this 
mode  of  treatment.  They  were  desirous  that  she 
should  recover  perfect  sanity  of  intellect  previous  to 


321 

her  examination,  and  they  also  wished  to  give  her 
time  to  form  that  profound  attachment  to  the 
innocent  companion  of  her  solitude,  that  might  be 
a  powerful  engine  in  their  hands  in  dicovering  those 
circumstances  relative  to  Melmoth  that  had  hitherto 
baffled  all  the  power  and  penetration  of  the  In* 
quisition  itself.  All  reports  agreed  that  the 
Wanderer  had  never  before  been  known  to  make  a 
woman  the  object  of  his  temptation,  or  to  entrust 
her  with  the  terrible  secret  of  his  destiny  ;  and  the 
Inquisitors  were  heard  to  say  to  each  other,  '  Now 
that  we  have  got  the  Delilah  in  our  hands,  we  shall 
soon  have  the  Sampson.' 

"  It  was  on  the  night  previous  to  her  examination, 
(of  which  she  was  unapprized),  that  Isidora  saw  the 
door  of  her  cell  opened,  and  a  figure  appear  at  it, 
whom,  amid  the  dreary  obscurity  that  surrounded 
her,  she  recognized  in  a  moment — it  was  Fra  Jose. 
After  a  long  pause  of  mutual  horror,  she  knelt  in 
silence  to  receive  his  benediction,  which  he  gave 
with  feeling  solemnity ;  and  then  the  good  monk, 
whose  propensities,  though  somewhat  '  earthly  and 
sensual/  were  '  never  devilish,'  after  vainly  drawing 
his  cowl  over  his  face  to  stifle  his  sobs,  lifted  up  his 
voice  and  '  wept  bitterly.' 

"  Isidora  was  silent,  but  her  silence  was  not  that 
of  sullen  apathy,  or  of  conscience-seared  im- 
penitence. At  length  Fra  Jose  seated  himself  on 
the  foot  of  the  pallet,  at  some  distance  from  the 
prisoner,  who  was  also  sitting,  and  bending  her 
cheek,  down  which  a  cold  tear  slowly  flowed,  over 
her  infant.  '  Daughter,'  said  the  monk,  collecting 
himself,  *  it  is  to  the  indulgence  of  the  holy  office  I 


322 

owe  this  permission  to  visit  you.'  '  I  thank  them/ 
said  Isidora,  and  her  tears  flowed  fast  and  relievingly. 
'I  am  permitted  also  to  tell  you  that  your  ex- 
amination will  take  place  to-morrow, — to  adjure  you 
to  prepare  for  it, — and,  if  there  be  any  thing  which 

'     'My  examination!'  repeated   Isidora  with 

surprise,  but  evidently  without  terror,  '  on  what 
subject  am  I  then  to  be  examined  ?f  On  that  of  your 
inconceivable  union  with  a  being  devoted  and  ac- 
cursed/ His  voice  was  choked  with  horror,  and  he 
added,  '  Daughter,  are  you  then  indeed  the  wife  of 
—of — that  being,  whose  name  makes  the  flesh  creep, 
and  the  hair  stand  on  end  V  '1  am/  '  Who  were  the 
witnesses  of  your  marriage,  and  what  hand  dared  to 
bind  yours  with  that  unholy  and  unnatural  bond  V 
'There  were  no  witnesses — we  were  wedded  in 
darkness.  I  saw  no  form,  but  I  thought  I  heard 
words  uttered — 1  know  I  felt  a  hand  place  mine  in 
Mel  moth's — its  touch  was  as  cold  as  that  of  the 
dead/  'Oh,  complicated  and  mysterious  horror! 
said  the  priest,  turning  pale,  and  crossing  himself 
with  marks  of  unfeigned  terror ;  he  bowed  his  head 
on  his  arm  for  some  time,  and  remained  silent  from 
unutterable  emotion.  '  Father,'  said  Isidora  at 
length,  '  you  knew  the  hermit  who  lived  amid  the 
ruins  of  the  monastery  near  our  house, — he  was  a 
priest  also, — he  was  a  holy  man,  it  was  he  who 
united  us  V  Her  voice  trembled.  '  Wretched  victim !' 
groaned  the  priest,  without  raising  his  head,  '  you 
know  not  what  you  utter — that  holy  man  is  known 
to  have  died  the  very  night  preceding  that  of  the  dread- 
ful union.' 

"  Another  pause  of  mute  horror  followed,  which 


323 

the  priest  at  length  broke.  *  Unhappy  daughter/ 
said  he  in  a  composed  and  solemn  voice,  '  I  am  in- 
dulged with  permission  to  give  you  the  benefit  of 
the  sacrament  of  confession,  previous  to  your  ex- 
amination. I  adjure  you  to  unburden  your  soul  to 
me,— will  you?'  *  I  will,  my  father.'  'Will  you 
answer  me,  as  you  would  answer  at  the  tribunal  of 
God  V  '  Yes, — as  I  would  answer  at  the  tribunal  of 
God/    As  she  spake,  she  prostrated  herself  before 

the  priest  in  the  attitude  of  confession. 

*  +  *  *  * 

"  And  you  have  now  disclosed  the  whole  burthen 
of  your  spirit  V  '  I  have,  my  father.9  The  priest 
sat  thoughtfully  for  a  considerable  time.  He  then 
pat  to  her  several  singular  questions  relative  to 
Mel  moth,  which  she  was  wholly  unable  to  answer. 
They  seemed  chiefly  the  result  of  those  impressions  of 
supernatural  power  and  terror,  which  were  every- 
where associated  with  his  image.  '  My  father/ 
said  Isidora,  when  he  had  ceased,  in  a  faltering 
voice — *  my  father,  may  I  inquire  about  my  unhappy 
parents  V  The  priest  shook  his  head,  and  remained 
silent.  At  length,  affected  by  the  agony  with 
which  she  urged  her  inquiry,  he  reluctantly  said  she 
might  guess  the  effect  which  the  death  of  their  son, 
and  the  imprisonment  of  their  daughter  in  the  In- 
quisition, must  have  on  parents,  who  were  no  less 
eminent  for  their  zeal  for  the  Catholic  faith,  than 
for  their  parental  affection.  '  Are  they  alive  ?'  said 
Isidora.  '  Spare  yourself  the  pain  of  further  in- 
quiries, daughter/  said  the  priest,  '  and  be  assured, 
that  if  the  answer  was  such  as  could  give  you  com- 
fort, it  would  not  be  withheld/ 

"  At  this  moment  a  bell  was  heard  to  sound  in  a 

S  B 


324 

distant  part  of  the  structure.     '  That  bell,'  said  the 
priest,  '  announces  that  the  hour  of  your  examination 
approaches ; — farewell,  and  may  the  saints  be  with 
you V    '  Stay,  father, — stay  one  moment, — but  one 
moment  P  cried  Isidora,  rushing  franticly  between 
him  and  the  door.     Fra  Jose  paused.    Isidora  sunk 
before  him,  and,  hiding  her  face  with  her  hands,  ex- 
claimed in  a  voice  choked   with   agony,   *  Father, 
do  you  think — that  I  am — lost  for  ever  V     '  Daughter,' 
said  the  priest,  in  heavy  accents,  and  in  a  troubled 
and  doubting  spirit,  €  daughter, — I  have  given  you 
what  comfort  I  could — press  for  no  more,  lest  what 
I  have  given  (with  many  struggles  of  conscience) 
may  be  withdrawn.     Perhaps  you  are  in  a  state  on 
which  I  can  form  no  judgment,  and  pronounce  no 
sentence.     May  God  be  merciful  to  you,  and  may 
the   holy  tribunal  judge   you  in  its  mercy  alsoT 
'Yet  stay,   father — stay  one    moment — only    one 
moment—only  one  question  more/    As  she  spoke, 
she  caught  her  pale  and  innocent  companion   from 
the  pallet  where  it  slept,  and  held  it  up  to  the  priest 
'  Father,  tell  me,  can  this  be  the  child  of  a  demon? 
— can  it  be — this  creature  that  smiles  on  me — that 
smiles   on  you,   while  you    are  mustering   curses 
against  it  ? — Oh,  holy  drops  have  sprinkled  it  from 
your  own  hand ! — Father,    you   have   spoke    holy 
words  over  it.     Father,  let  them  tear  me  with  their 
pincers,  let  them  roast  me  on  their  flames,  but  will 
not  my  child  escape — my  innocent  child,  that  smiles 
on  you  ?     Holy  father,  dear  father,  look  back  on  my 
child !'    And  she  crawled  after  him  on  her  knees, 
holding  up  the  miserable  infant  in  her  arms,  whose 
weak  cry  and  wasted  frame  pleaded  against  the 
dungeon-life  to  which  its  infancy  had  been  doomed. 


836 

"Fra  Jose  melted  at  the  appecl,  and  he  was 
about  to  bestow  many  a  kiss  and  many  a  prayer  on 
the  wretched  babe,  when  the  bell  again  *  was 
sounded,  and  hasting  away,  he  had  but  time  to 
exclaim,  'My  daugher,  may  God  protect  you!' 
'God  protect  me !'  said  Isidora,  clasping  her  infant 
to  her  bosom.  The  bell  sounded  again,  and  Isidora 
knew  that  the  hour  of  her  trial  approached. 

"  The  first  examination  of  Isidora  was  conducted 
with  the  circumspective  formality  that  has  always 
been  known  to  mark  the  proceedings  of  that  tribunal. 
The  second  and  the  third  were  alike  strict,  pene- 
trating, and  inoperative,  and  the  holy  office  began  to 
feel  its  highest  functionaries  were  no  match  for  the 
extraordinary  prisoner  who  stood  before  them ;  who, 
combining  the  extremes  of  simplicity  and  magna- 
nimity, uttered  every  thing  that  might  criminate 
herself,  but  evaded,  with  skill  that  baffled  all  the 
arts  of  inquisitorial  examination,  every  question  that 
referred  to  Melmoth. 

"In  the  course  of  the  first  examination,  they 
hinted  at  the  torture.  Isidora,  with  something  of 
the  free  and  nature-taught  dignity  of  her  early 
existence,  smiled  as  they  spoke  of  it.  An  official 
whispered  one  of  the  inquisitors,  as  he  observed  the 
peculiar  expression  of  her  countenance,  and  the 
torture  was  mentioned  no  more. 

"  A  second — a  third  examination  followed  at  long 
intervals — but  it  was  observed,  that  every  time  the 
mode  of  examination  was  less  severe,  and  the  treat- 
ment of  the  prisoner  more  and  more  indulgent ; — her 
youth,  her  beauty,  her  profound  simplicity  of 
character  and  language,  developed  strongly  on  this 
singular  emergency,  and  the  affecting  circumstance 


326 

of  her  always  appearing  with  her  child  in  her  arms, 
whose  feeble  cries  she  tried  to  hush,  while  she  bent 
forward  to  hear  and  answer  the  questions  addressed 
to  her, — all  these  seemed  to  have  wrought  powerfully 
on  the  minds  of  men  not  accustomed  to  yield  to  ex- 
ternal impressions.  There  was  also  a  docility,  a 
submission,  about  this  beautiful  and  unfortunate 
being — a  contrite  and  bending  spirit — a  sense  of 
wretchedness  for  the  misfortunes  of  her  family — a 
consciousness  of  her  own, — that  touched  the  hearts 
even  of  inquisitors. 

"  After  repeated  examinations,  when  nothing 
could  be  extorted  from  the  prisoner,  a  skilful  and 
profound  artist  in  the  school  of  mental  anatomy 
whispered  to  the  inquisitor  something  about  the 
infant  whom  she  held  in  her  arms.  '  She  has 
defied  the  rack/  was  the  answer.  '  Try  her  on  that 
rack,'  was  rejoined;  and  the  hint  was  taken. 

<€  After  the  usual  formalities  were  gone  through, 
Isidora's  sentence  was  read  to  her.  She  was  con- 
demned, as  a  suspected  heretic,  to  perpetual  con- 
finement in  the  prison  of  the  Inquisition — her  child 
was  to  be  taken  from  her,  and  brought  up  in  a  con- 
vent, in  order  to 

"  Here  the  reading  of  the  sentence  was  inter- 
rupted by  the  prisoner,  who,  uttering  one  dreadful 
shriek  of  maternal  agony,  louder  than  any  other 
mode  of  torture  had  ever  before  extorted,  fell 
prostrate  on  the  floor.  When  she  was  restored  to 
sensation,  no  authority  or  terror  of  the  place  or 
the  judges,  could  prevent  her  pouring  forth  those 
wild  and  piercing  supplications,  which,  from  the 
energy  with  which  they  were  uttered,  appeared  to  the 
speaker  himself  like  commands, — that  the  latter 


317 

part  of  her  sentence  might  be  remitted ;— the  former 

appeared  to  make  not  the  least  impression  on  her:— 

eternal  solitude,  passed  in  eternal  darkness,  seemed 

to  ghre  her  neither  fear  or  pain,  but  she  wept,  and 

pleaded,  and  raved,  that  she  might  not  be  separated 

from  her  infant. 

"  The  judges  listened  with  fortified  hearts,  and  in 

unbroken  silence.    When  she  found  all  was  over,  she 

rose  from  her  posture  of  humiliation  and  agony — 

and  there  was  something  even  of  dignity  about  her 

as  she  demanded,  in  a  calm  and  altered  voice,  that 

her  child  might  not  be  removed  from  her  till  the 

following  day.   She  had  also  self-possession  enough 

to  enforce  her  petition  by  the  remark,  that  its  life 

might  be  the  sacrifice,  if  it  was  too  suddenly  deprived 

of  the  nourishment  it  was  accustomed  to  receive 

from  her.    To  this  request  the  judges  acceded,  and 

she  was  remanded  to  her  cell. 

»  »  *  ♦  « 

"The  time  elapsed.  The  person  who  brought 
her  food  departed  without  uttering  a  word ;  nor  did 
she  utter  a  word  to  him.  It  was  about  midnight 
that  the  door  of  her  cell  was  unlocked,  and  two 
persons  in  official  habits  appeared  at  it.  They 
seemed  to  pause,  like  the  heralds  at  the  tent  of 
-Achilles,  and  then,  like  them,  forced  themselves  to 
enter.  These  men  had  haggard  and  livid  faces — 
their  attitudes  were  perfectly  stony  and  automaton- 
like— their  movements  appeared  the  result  of  mere 
mechanism, — yet  these  men  were  touched.  The 
miserable  light  within  hardly  showed  the  pallet  on 
which  the  prisoner  was  seated;  but  a  strong  red 
light  from  the  torch  the  attendant  held,   flared 


3tt8 

broadly  on  the  arch  of  the  door  under  which  the 
figures  appeared.  They  approached  with  a  motion 
that  seemed  simultaneous  and  involuntary-— and 
uttered  together,  m  accents  that  seemed  to  issue 
from  one  mouth,  '  Deliver  your  child  to  tie  !*  In  a 
voice  as  hoarse,  dry,  and  natureless,  the  prisoner 
answered,  'Take  it!' 

"  The  men  looked  about  the  cell — it  seemed  as  if 
they  knew  not  where  to  find  the  offspring  of 
humanity  amid  the  cells  of  the  Inquisition.  The 
prisoner  was  silent  and  motionless  during  their 
search.  It  was  not  long — the  narrow  apartment, 
the  scanty  furniture,  afforded  little  room  for  the 
investigation.  When  it  was  concluded,  however, 
the  prisoner,  bursting  into  a  wild  laugh,  exclaimed, 
'Where  would  you  search  for  a  child  but  in  its 
mother's  bosom  ?  Here — here  it  is — take  it — take 
it !'  And  she  put  it  into  their  hands.  '  Oh  what 
fools  ye  were  to  seek  my  child  any  where  but  on 
its  mother's  bosom!  It  is  yours  now!9  she 
shrieked  in  a  voice  that  froze  the  officials ;— '  take  it 
—take  it  from  me  V 

"  The  agents  of  the  holy  office  advanced ;  and 
the  technicality  of  their  movements  was  somewhat 
suspended  when  Isidora  placed  in  their  hands  the 
corse  of  her  infant  daughter.  Around  the  throat  of 
the  miserable  infant,  born  amid  agony  and  nursed 
in  a  dungeon,  there  was  a  black  mark,  which  the 
officials  made  their  use  of  in  representing  this  ex- 
traordinary circumstance  to  the  holy  office.  By 
some  it  was  deemed  as  the  sign  impressed  by  the 
evil  one  at  its  birth — by  others  as  the  fearful  effect 
of  maternal  despair. 


329 

"It  was  determined  that  the  prisoner  should 
appear  before  them  within  fpur-and-twenty  hours, 

and  account  for  the  death  of  her  child. 

*  *  #  *  ♦ 

"  Within  less  than  half  that  number  of  hours,  a 
mightier  arm  than  that  of  the  Inquisition  was 
dealing  with  the  prisoner — an  arm  that  seemed  to 
menace,  but  was  indeed  stretched  out  to  save,  and 
before  whose  touch  the  barriers  of  the  dreaded  In- 
quisition itself  were  as  frail  as  the  fortress  of  the 
spider  who  hung  her  web  on  its  walls.  Isidora 
was  dying  of  a  disease,  not  the  less  mortal  because 
it  makes  no  appearance  in  an  obituary — she  was 
dying  of  that  internal  and  incurable  wound— a 
broken  heart. 

"When  the  inquisitors  were  at  last  convinced 
that  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  obtained  by 
torture,  bodily  or  mental  torture,  they  suffered  her 
to  die  unmolested,  and  granted  her  last  request,  that 

Fia  Jose  might  be  permitted  to  visit  her. 

*  .        #  *  *  .   * 

"  It  was  midnight — but  its  approach  was  unknown 
in  that  place,  where  day  and  night  are  the  same. 
A  dim  lamp  was  substituted  for  that  weak  and 
struggling  beam  that  counterfeited  day-light  The 
penitent  was  stretched  on  her  bed  of  rest — the 
humane  priest  sat  beside  her ;  and  if  his  presence 
gave  no  dignity  to  the  scene,  it  at  least  softened  it  by 
the  touches  of  humanity. 

•  •  #  *  • 

"  My  father,'  said  the  dying  Isidore,  '  you  pro- 
nounced on  forgiven/  '  Yes,  my  daughter/  said 
the  priest ;  *  you  have  assured  me  you  are  innocent 


330 

of  the  death  of  your  infant/  '  You  never  could 
have  believed  me  guilty/  said  Isidora,  raising  her- 
self on  her  pallet  at  the  appeal — '  the  consciousness 
of  its  existence  alone  would  have  kept  me  alive, 
even  in  my  prison.  Oh,  my  father!  how  was  it 
possible  it  could  live,  buried  with  me  in  this  dreadful 
place  almost  as  soon  as  it  received  life  ?  Even  the 
morbid  nourishment  it  received  from  me  was  dried 
up  when  my  sentence  was  read.  It  moaned  all 
night — towards  morning  its  moans  grew  fainter,  and 
I  was  glad — at  last  they  ceased,  and  I  was  very 
— happy!9  But  as  she  talked  of  this  fearful 
happiness,  she  wept. 

"'My  daughter,  is  your  heart  disengaged  from 
that  awful  and  disastrous  tie  that  bound  it  to  mis- 
fortune here,  and  to  perdition  hereafter  V     It  was 
long  before  she  could  answer ;  at  length  she  said  in 
a  broken  voice,  •  My  father,  I  have  not  now  strength 
to  search  or  to  struggle  with  my  heart.     Death 
must  very  soon  break  every  tie  that  was  twined 
with  it,  and  it  is  useless  to  anticipate  my  liberation ; 
the  effort  would  be  agony, — fruitless  agony, — for, 
while  I  live,  I  must  love  my  destroyer !  Alas !  in  being 
the  enemy  of  mankind,  was  not  his  hostility  to  me 
inevitable  and  fatal  ?     In  rejecting  his  last  terrible 
temptation — in  resigning  him  to  his  destiny,  and  pre- 
ferring submission  to  my  own,  I  feel  my  triumph  com- 
plete, and  my  salvation  assured/  '  Daughter,  I  do  not 
comprehend  you/     'Melmoth/  said  Isidora,    with 
a  strong  effort — ' Melmolh  was  here  last  night! — 
within  the  walls   of  the   Inquisition— -within    this 
very  cell  V     The  priest  crossed  himself  with  marks 
of  the  profoundest  horror,  and,  as  the  wind  swept 


331 

hollowly  tnrough  the  long  passage,  almost  expected 
the  shaken  door  would  burst  open,  and  disclose  the 
figure  of  the  Wanderer. 

*  ♦  ♦  «  r 

" 4  My  father,  I  have  had  many  dreams/  answered 
the  penitent,  shaking  her  head  at  a  suggestion  of  the 
priest's,  *  many — many  wanderings,  but  this  was  no 
dream.  I  have  dreamed  of  the  garden-land  where 
I  beheld  him  first — I  have  dreamed  of  the  nights 
when  be  stood  at  my  casement,  and  trembled  in 
sleep  at  the  sound  of  my  mother's  step — and  I  hay* 
had  holy  and  hopefiil  visions,  in  which  celestial 
forms  appeared  to  me,  and  promised  me  his  con- 
version  j-r-but  this  was  no  dream — I  saw  him  last 
night !  Father,  he  was  here  the  whole  night— be 
promised — he  assured  me — he  adjured  me  to  accept 
of  liberation  and  safety,  of  life  and  of  felicity.  He 
told  me,  nor  could  I  doubt  him,  that,  by  whatever 
means  be  effected  his  entrance,  he  could  also  effect 
my  escape.  He  offered  to  live  with  me  in  that 
Indian  isle — that  parfldise  of  ocean,  far  from  human 
resort  or  hupnan  persecution.  He  offered  to  love  me 
alone,  and  for  ever— and  then  I  listened  to  him. 
Oh,  my  father,  I  am  very  young,  and  life  and  love 
sounded  sweetly  in  my  ears,  when  I  looked  at  my 
dungeon,  and  thought  of  dying  on  this  floor  of  stone! 
But— rwhen  he  whispered  the  terrible  condition  on 
which  the  fulfilment  of  his  promise  depended-— 
when  be  told  me  that—' 


"  Her  voice  failed  with  her  failing  strength,  and 
she  could  utter  no  more.  'Daughter/  said  the 
priest,  bending  over  her  bed,  *  daughter,  I  adjure 
you,  by  the  image  represented  on  this  cross  I  hold 
to  your  dying  lips — by  your  hopes  of  that  salvation 

T  T 


332 


which  depends  on  the  truth  you  utter  to  me,  youi 
priest  and  your  friend — the  conditions  proposed  by 
your  tempter !'  *  Promise  me  absolution  for  repeating 
the  words,  for  I  should  wish  that  my  last  breath 
might  not  be  exhaled  in  uttering — what  I  must.' 
'  Te  absolvo,'  &c.  said  the  priest,  and  bent  his  ear  to 
catch  the  sounds.  The  moment  they  were  uttered, 
he  started  as  from  the  sting  of  a  serpent,  and,  seating 
himself  at  the  extremity  of  the  cell,  rocked  in  dumb 
horror.  '  My  father,  you  promised  me  absolution/ 
said  the  penitent.  f  Jam  tibi  dedi,  moribunda,9 
answered  the  priest,  in  the  confusion  of  thoughts 
using  the  language  appropriated  to  the  service  of 
religion.  '  Moribunda  indeed  !'  said  the  sufferer, 
falling  back  on  her  pallet.  '  Father,  let  me  feel  a 
human  hand  in  mine  as  I  part !'  '  Call  upon  God, 
daughter !'  said  the  priest,  applying  the  crucifix  to 
her  cold  lips  '  I  loved  his  religion,'  said  the  peni- 
tent, kissing  it  devoutly ;  '  I  loved  it  before  1 
knew  it ;  and  God  must  have  been  my  teacher,  for  I 
had  no  other !  Oh !'  she  exclaimed,  with  that  deep 
conviction  that  must  thrill  every  dying  heart,  and 
whose  echo  (would  to  God)  might  pierce  every  living 
one — oh  that  I  had  loved  none  but  God — how 
profound  would  have  been  my  peace — how  gloriou 
my  departure  ! — now — his  image  pursues  me  even 
to  the  brink  of  the  grave,  into  which  I  plunge  to 
escape  it !' 

€* '  My  daughter/  said  the  priest,  while  thie  tears 
rolled  fast  down  his  cheeks — *  my  daughter,  you  are 
passing  to  bliss — the  conflict  was  fierce  and  short, 
but  the  victory  is  sure — harps  are  tuned  to  a  new 
song,  even  a  song  of  welcome,  and  wreaths  of  palm 
are  weaving  for  you  in  paradise!' " 


333 

" '  Paradise !'  uttered  Isidora,  with  her  last  breath 

-•  Will  he  be  there  V 

*  «,  *  * 

"  Mon^ada  here  concluded  the  tale  of  the  Indian, 
—the  victim  of  Melmoth 's  passion,  no  less  than  of 
bis  destiny,  both  alike  unhallowed  and  unutterable. 
And  he  announced  his  intention  of  disclosing  to  him 
the  fetes  of  the  other  victims,  whose  skeletons  were 
preserved  in  the  vault  of  the  Jew  Adonijah  in  Madrid. 
He  added,  that  the  circumstances  relating  to  them, 
were  of  a  character  still  darker  and  more  awful 
than  those  he  had  recited,  as  they  were  the  result  of 
impressions  made  on  masculine  minds,  without  any 
excitement  but  that  of  looking  into  futurity.  He 
mentioned,  too,  that  the  Circumstances  of  his 
residence  in  the  house  of  the  Jew,  his  escape  from  it, 
and  the  reasons  of  his  subsequent  arrival  in  Ireland, 
were  scarcely  less  extraordinary  than  any  thing  he 
had  hitherto  related.  Young  Melmoth,  (whose 
name  perhaps  the  reader  has  forgot),  did  '  seriously 
incline9  to  the  purpose  of  having  his  dangerous 
curiosity  further  gratified,  nor  was  he  perhaps  alto- 
gether without  the  wild  hope  of  seeing  the  original 
of  that  portrait  he  had  destroyed,  burst  from  the 
walls  and  take  up  the  fearful  tale  himself. 

"The  narrative  of  the  Spaniard  had  occupied 
many  days ;  at  their  termination,  young  Melmoth 
signified  to  his  guest  that  he  was  prepared  to  hear 
the  sequel. 

"  A  night  was  fixed  for  the  continuation  of  the 
recital.  Young  Melmoth  and  his  guest  met  him  in 
the  usual  apartment — it  was  a  dreary,  stormy  night 
—the  rain  that  had  fallen  all  day,  seemed  now  to 
have  yielded  to  the  wind,  that  came  in  strong  and 


334 

stfdden  bursts,  suddenly  hushed,  as  if  collecting 
strength  for  the  tempest  of  the  night.  Monjada 
and  Mel  moth  drfew  their  chairs  closer  to  the  fire, 
looking  at  each  other  with  the  aspect  of  men  who 
*ish  to  inspire  each  other  with  courage  to  listen, 
and  to  tell,  and  are  more  eager  to  inspire  it,  because 
neither  feels  it  himself. 

"  At  length  Mon$ada  collected  his  voice  and  reso- 
lution to  proceed,  but  as  he  went  on,  he  perceived 
he  could  not  fix  his  hearer's  attention,  and  he  paused. 

" '  I  thought/  said  Melmoth,  answering  his 
Silence,  '  I  thought  I  heard  a  noise— as  of  a  person 
walking  in  the  passage.9  '  Hush !  and  listen/  said 
M on ^ad a ;  '  I  would  not  wish  to  be  overheard/ 
They  paused  and  held  their  breath — the  sound  was 
renewed— it  was  evidently  that  of  steps  approaching 
the  door,  and  then  retiring  from  it.  f  We  are 
watched/  said  Melmoth,  half  rising  from  his  chair ; 
but  at  that  time  the  door  opened,  and  a  figure 
appeared  at  it,  which  Monjada  recognized  for  the 
subject  of  his  narrative,  and  his  mysterious  visitor 
in  the  prison  of  the  Inquisition;  and  Melmoth  for 
the  original  of  the  picture,  and  the  being  whose  un- 
accountable appearance  had  filled  him  with  con- 
sternation, as  he  sat  beside  his  dying  uncle's  bed. 

"  The  figure  stood  at  the  door  for  some  time,  and 
(hen  advancing  slowly  till  it  gained  the  centre  of  the 
toom,  it  remained  there  fixed  for  some  time,  but 
without  looking  at  them.  It  then  approached  the 
table  where  the  ysat,  in  a  slow  but  distinctly  heard 
step,  and  stood  before  them  as  a  living  being.  The 
profound  horror  that  was  equally  felt  by  both,  was 
differently  expressed  by  each.  *  Monfada  crossed 
himself  repeatedly,  and  attempted  to  utter   many 


333 

prayers.     Mel  moth,  nailed  to  his  chair,  fixed  hi* 

sightless  eyes  on  the  form  that  stood  before  him  ;— 

it  was  indeed  Mclmoth  the  Wanderer — the  same  as 

he  was  in  the  past  century — the  same  as  he  may  be 

in  centuries  to  come,  should  the  fearful  terms  of  his 

existence  be  renewed .    His  '  natural  force  was  not 

abated,'  but  *  his  eye  was  dim/ — that  appalling  and 

supernatural  lustre  of  the  visual  organ — that  beacon 

lit  by  an  infernal  fire,  to  tempt  or  to  warn  the  ad- 

renturers  of  despair  from  that  coast  on  which  many 

struck;  and  some  sunk — that  portentous  light  was 

no  longer  risible— the  form  and  figure  were  those  of 

aliving  man,  of  the  age  indicated  in  the  portrait 

which  the  young  Mel  moth  had  destroy  ed>  but  the 

eyes  were  as  the  eyes  of  the  dead. 

♦  *  »  *  « 

u  As  the  Wanderer  advanced  still  nearer,  till  his 
figure  touched  the  table,  Mon^ada  and  Mclmoth 
started  up  in  irrepressible  horror,  and  stood  in 
attitudes  of  defence,  though  conscious  at  the 
moment  that  all  defence  was  hopeless  against  a 
being  that  withered  and  mocked  at  human  power. 
The  Wanderer  waved  his  arm  with  an  action  that 
spoke  defiance  without  hostility — and  the  strange 
and  solemn  accents  of  the  only  human  voice  that 
had  respired  mortal  air  beyond  the  period  of  mortal 
life,  and  never  spoken  but  to  the  ear  of  guilt  or 
suffering,  and  never  uttered  to  that  ear  aught  but 
despair,  rolled  slowly  on  their  hearing  like  a  peal 
of  distant  thunder. 

"  Mortals !  you  are  here  to  talk  of  my  destiny, 
and  of  the  events  which  it  has  involved.  That 
destiny  is  accomplished,  I  believe;  and  with  it 
terminate  those  events  that  have  stimulated  your 


33fi 

wild  and  wretched  curiosity.  I  am  here  to  tell  you 
of  both! — I — I  of  whom  you  speak,  am  here! — 
Who  can  tell  so  well  of  Melmoth  the  Wanderer  as 
himself,  now  that  he  is  about  to  resign  that  ex- 
istence which  has  been  the  object  of  terror  and 
wonder  to  the  world  ?  Melmoth,  you  behold  your 
ancestor — the  being  on  whose  portrait  is  inscribed 
the  date  of  a  century  and  a  half,  is  before  you, — 
Mon^ada,  you  see  an  acquaintance  of  a  later  date.9 
— (A  grim  smile  of  recognition  wandered  over  his 
features  as  he  spoke). — •  Fear  nothing/  he  added, 
observing  the  agony  and  terror  of  his  involuntary 
hearers.  *  What  have  you  to  fear  V  he  continued, 
while  a  flash  of  derisive  malignity  once  more  lit  up 
the  sockets  of  his  dead  eyes — *  You,  Senhor,  are 
armed  with  your  beads — and  you,  Melmoth,  are 
fortified  by  that  vain  and  desperate  inquisitiveness, 
which  might,  at  a  former  period,  have  made  you 
my  victim, — (and  his  features  underwent  a  short 
out  horrible  convulsion)— but  now  makes  you  only 

my  mockery. 

***** 

'"Have  you  aught  to  quench  my  thirst?'  he 
added,  seating  himself.  The  senses  of  Mon^ada 
and  his  companion  reeled  in  delirious  terror,  and 
the  former,  in  a  kind  of  wild  confidence,  filled  a 
glass  of  water,  and  offered  it  to  the  Wanderer  with 
a  hand  as  steady,  but  somewhat  colder,  as  he  would 
have  presented  it  to  one  who  sat  beside  him  in 
human  companionship.  The  Wanderer  raised  it  to 
his  lips,  and  tasted  a  few  drops,  then  placing  it  on 
the  table,  said  with  a  laugh,  wild  indeed,  but  no 
longer  ferocious — 'Have  you  seen/  said  he  to 
Mon$ada  and  Melmoth,  who  gazed  with  dim  and 


337 

trembled  sight  on  this  vision,  and  wist  not  what  to 
think — '  have  you  seen  the  fate  of  Don  Juan — not  as 
he  is  pantomimed  on  your  paltry  stage,  but  as  he  is 
represented  in  the  real  horrors  of  his  destiny  by  the 
Spanish  writer?  There  the  spectre  returns  the 
hospitality  of  his  inviter,  and  summons  him  in  turn 
to  a  feast  The  banquet-hall  is  a  church; — he 
arrives — it  is  illuminated  with  a  mysterious  light- 
invisible  hands  hold  lamps  fed  by  no  earthly 
substance,  to  light  the  apostate  to  his  doom !  He 
enters  the  church,  and  is  greeted  by  a  numerous 
company — the  spirits  of  those  whom  he  has  wronged 
and  murdered,  uprisen  from  their  charnel,  and 
swathed  in  shrouds,  stand  there  to  welcome  him ! 
As  he  passes  among  them,  they  call  on  him  in 
hollow  sounds  to  pledge  them  in  goblets  of  blood 
which  they  present  to  him— and  beneath  the  altar, 
by  which  stands  the  spirit  of  him  whom  the 
parricide  has #  murdered,  the  gulph  of  perdition  is 
yawning  to  receive  him !  Through  such  a  band  I 
must  soon  prepare  to  pass !— Isidore  I  thy  form  will 
be  the  last  I  must  encounter— and— the  most 
terrible  I  Now  for  the  last  drop  I  must  taste  of 
earth's  produce — the  last  that  shall  wet  my  mortal 
lips!*  He  slowly  finished  the  draught  of  water. 
Neither  of  his  companions  had  the  power  to  speak. 
He  sat  down  in  a  posture  of  heavy  musing,  and 
neither  ventured  to  interrupt  him. 

."  They  kept  silence  till  the  morning  was  dawning, 
and  a  faint  light  streamed  through  the  closed 
shutters.  Then  the  Wanderer  raised  his  heavy 
eyes,  and  fixed  them  on  Melmoth.  '  Your  ancestor 
has  come  home,'  he  said ;  '  his  wanderings  are  over  I 
—what  has  been  told  or  believed  of  me  is  now  of 


338 

light  avail  to  me.  The  secret  of  my  destiny  rests 
with  myself.  If  all  that  fear  has  invented,  and 
credulity  believed,  of  me  be  true,  to  what  does  it 
amount  ?  That  if  my  crimes  have  exceeded  those 
of  mortality,  so  will  my  punishment.  I  have  been 
on  earth  a  terror,  but  not  an  evil  to  its  inhabitants. 
None  can  participate  in  my  destiny  but  with  his 
own  consent — none  have  consented ; — none  can  be  in- 
volved in  its  tremendous  penalties,  but  by  participa- 
tion. I  alone  must  sustain  the  penalty.  If  I  have 
put  forth  my  hand,  and  eaten  of  the  fruit  of  the 
interdicted  tree,  am  I  not  driven  from  the  presence 
of  God  and  the  religion  of  paradise,  and  sent  to 
wander  amid  worlds  of  barrenness,  and  curse  for- 
ever and  ever  ? 

"  '  It  has  been  reported  of  me,  that  I  obtained 
from  the  enemy  of  souls  a  range  of  existence  beyond 
the  period  allotted  to  mortality — a  power  to  pass 
over  space  without  disturbance  or  delay,  and  visit 
remote  regions  with  the  swiftness  of  thought — to 
encounter  tempests  without  the  hope  of  their  blasting 
me,  and  penetrate  into  dungeons,  whose  bolts  were 
as  flax  and  tow  at  my  touch.  It  has  been  said  that 
this  power  was  accorded  to  me,  that  I  might  be 
enabled  to  tempt  wretches  in  their  fearful  hour  of 
extremity,  with  the  promise  of  deliverance  and 
immunity,  on  condition  of  their  changing  situations 
with  me.  If  this  be  true,  it  bears  attestation  to 
a  truth  uttered  by  the  lips  of  one  I  may  not  name, 
and  echoed  by  every  human  heart  in  the  habitable 
world. 

" '  No  one  has  ever  exchanged  destinies  with 
Melmoth  the  Wanderer.  /  have  traversed  the  world 
in  the  search,  and  no  one,  to  gain  that  world,  would  lose 


339 

An  ami  *oul! — Not  Stanton  in  his  cell — nor  you, 
Mongada,  in  the  prison  of  the  Inquisition — nor 
Walberg/wbo  saw  his  children  perishing  with  want 
—nor — another — ' 

"  He  paused,  and  though  on  the  verge  of  his  dark 
and  doubtful  voyage,  he  seemed  to  cast  one  look  of 
bitter  and  retrospective  anguish  on  the  receding 
shore  of  life,  and  see,  through  the  mists  of  memory, 
one  form  that  stood  there  to  bid  him  farewell.  He 
rose — *  Let  me,  if  possible,  obtain  an  hour's  repose. 
Aye,  repose — sleep !'  he  repeated,  answering  the 
silent  astonishment  of  his  hearer's  looks ;  '  my  ex- 
istence is  still  human  !' — and  a  ghastly  and  derisive 
smile  wandered  over  his  features  for  the  last  time,  as 
he  spoke.  How  often  had  that  smile  frozen  the  blood 
of  his  victims !  Melmoth  and  Mongada  quitted  the 
apartment ;  and  the  Wanderer,  sinking  back  in  his 
chair  slept  profoundly.  He  slept ;  but  what  were 
the  visions  of  his  last  earthly  slumber  ? 


"  He  dreamed  that  he  stood  on  the  summit  of  a 
precipice,  whose  downward  height  no  eye  could 
have  measured,  but  for  the  fearful  waves  of  a  fiery 
ocean  that  lashfed,  and  blazed,  and  roared,  at  its 
bottom,  sending  its  burning  spray  far  up,  so  as  to 
drench  the  dreamer  with  its  sulphurous  rain.  The 
whole  glowing  oqean  below  was  alive — every  billow 
bore  an  agonizing  soul,  that  rose  like  a  wreck  or  a 
putrid  corse  on  the  waves  of  earth's  oceans — uttered 
a  shriek  as  it  burst  against  that  adamantine  precipice 
— sunk — and  rose  again  to  repeat  the  tremendous 

u  u 


340 

experiment !  Every  billow  of  fire  was  thus  instinct 
with  immortal  and  agonizing  existence, — each  was 
freighted  with  a  soul,  that  rose  on  the  burning  wave 
in  torturing  hope,  burst  on  the  rock  in  despair,  added 
its  eternal  shriek  to  the  roar  of  that  fiery  ocean, 
and  sunk  to  rise  again — in  vain,  and — for  ever ! 

"  Suddenly  the  Wanderer  felt  himself  flung  half- 
way down  the  precipice.     He  stood,  in  his  dream, 
tottering  on  a  crag  midway  down  the  precipice — he 
looked  upward,  but  the  upper  air  (for  there  was  no 
heaven)  showed  only  blackness  unshadowed  and  im- 
penetrable— but,  blacker  than   that  blackness,  he 
could  distinguish  a  gigantic  outstretched  arm,  that 
held  him  as  in  sport  on  the  ridge  of  that  infernal 
precipice ;  while  another,  that  seemed  in  its  motions 
to  hold  fearful  and  invisible  conjunction  with  the 
ann  that  grasped  him,  as  if  both  belonged  to  some 
being  too  vast  and  horrible  even  for  the  imagery  of 
a  dream  to  shape,  pointed  upwards  to  a  dial-plate 
fixed  on  the  top  of  that  precipice,  and  which  the 
flashes  of  that  ocean  of  fire  made  fearfully  con- 
spicuous.    He    saw  the   mysterious    single    hand 
revolve — he  saw  it  reach  the  appointed  period  of  150 
years — (for  in   this   mystic    plate    centuries    were 
marked,  not  hours) — he  shrieked  in  his  dream,  and, 
with  that  strong  impulse  often  felt  in  sleep,  burst 
from  the  arm  that  held  him,  to  arrest  the  motion  of 
the  hand. 

"  In  the  effort  he  fell ;  and  falling,  grasped  at 
aught  that  might  save  him.  His  fall  seemed  per- 
pendicular— there  was  nought  to  save  him — the 
rock  was  as  smooth  as  ice — the  ocean  of  fire  broke 
at  its  foot !  Suddenly  a  group  of  figures  appeared, 
ascending  as  he  fell.     He  grasped  at  them  sue- 


341 

cessively ; — first  Stanton-  -then  Walberg — Elinor 
Mortimer — Isidore — Mongada, — all  passed  him;— 
to  each  he  seemed  in  his  slumber  to  cling  m  order 
to  break  his  fell — all  ascended  the  precipice.  He 
caught  at  each  in  his  downward  flight,  but  all  for- 
sook him  and  ascended. 

"  His  last  despairing  reverted  glance  was  fixed 
on  the  clock  of  eternity:  the  upraised  black  arm 
seemed  to  push  forward  the  hand — it  arrived  at  its 
period — he  fell — he  sunk — he  blazed — he  shrieked ! 
The  burning  waves  boomed  over  his  sinking  head, 
and  the  clock  of  eternity  rung  out  its  awful  chime— 
'Room  for  the  soul  of  the  Wanderer  !~ and  the 
waves  of  the  burning  ocean  answered,  as  they 
lashed  the  adamantine  rock — '  There  is  room  for 
more  f The  Wanderer  awoke.0 

"  Mel  moth  and  Mon^ada  did  not  dare  to  approach 
the  door  till  about  noon.  They  then  knocked  gently 
at  the  door,  and  finding  tS*  summons  unanswered, 
they  entered  slowly  and  irresolutely.  The  apart- 
ment was  in  the  same  state  in  which  they  had  left 
it  the  preceding  night,  or  rather  morning;  it  was 
dusky  and  silent,  the  shutters  had  not  been  opened, 
and  the  Wanderer  still  seemed  sleeping  in  his  chair. 

"  At  the  sound  of  their  approach  he  half  started 
op,  and  demanded  what  was  the  hour.  They  told 
him.  '  My  hour  U  come  /'  said  the  Wanderer ;  €  it  is 
an  hour  you  must  neither  partake  nor  witness — the 
clock  of  eternity  is  about  to  strike,  but  its  knell 
must  be  unheard  by  mortal  ears !'  As  he  spoke 
they  approached  nearer,  and  saw  with  horror  the 
change  the  last  few  hours  had  wrought  on  him. 
The  fearful  lustre  of  his  eyes  had  been  deadened 


342 

before  their  late  interview,  but  now  the  lines  of 
extreme  age  were  visible  in  every  feature.  His 
hairs  were  as  white  as  snow,  his  mouth  had  fallen 
in,  the  muscles  of  his  face  were  relaxed  and 
withered — he  was  the  very  image  of  hoary  decrepit 
debility.  He  started  himself  at  the  impression 
which  his  appearance  visibly  made  on  the  intruders. 
'  You  see  what  I  feel/  he  exclaimed;  '  the  hour,  then, 
is  come.  I  am  summoned,  and  I  must  obey  the 
summons — my  master  has  other  work  for  me! 
When  a  meteor  blazes  in  your  atmosphere — when  a 
comet  pursues  its  burning  path  towards  the  sun — 
look  up,  and  perhaps  you  may  think  of  the  spirit 
condemned  to  guide  the  blazing  and  erratic  orb.' 

"  The  spirits,  that  had  risen  to  a  kind  of  wild 
elation,  as  suddenly  subsided,  and  he  added, 
'  Leave  me  ;  I  must  be  alone  for  the  few  last  hours 
of  my  mortal  existence — if,  indeed,  they  are  to  be 
the  last.'  He  spoke  this  with  an  inward  shuddering, 
that  was  felt  by  his  hearers.  €  In  this  apartment/ 
he  continued,  'I  first  drew  breath;  in  this  I  must 
perhaps  resign  it ; — would — would  I  had  never  been 
born ! 

*  ¥  ¥  *  * 

"  f  Men — retire — leave  me  alone.  Whatever  noises 
you  hear  in  the  course  of  the  awful  night  that  is 
approaching,  come  not  near  this  apartment,  at  peril 
of  your  lives.  Remember/ — raising  his  voice,  which 
still  retained  all  its  powers, — '  remember  your  lives 
will  be  the  forfeit  of  your  desperate  curiosity.  For 
the  same  stake  I  risked  more  than  life — and  lost  it ! 
— Be  warned — retire !' 

•  They  retired,  and  passed  the  remainder  of  that 
day  without  even  thinking  of  food,  from  that  intense 


343 


and  burning  anxiety  that  seemed  to  prey  on 
very  vitals.  At  night  they  retired,  and  though  each 
la}  down,  it  was  without  a  thought  of  repose.  Re- 
pose, indeed,  would  have  been  impossible.  The 
sounds  that  soon  after  midnight  tifegan  to  issue 
from  the  apartment  of  the  Wanderer,  were  at 
first  of  a  description  not  to  alarm ;  but  they  were 
soon  exchanged  for  others  of  such  indescribable 
horror,  that  Melmoth,  though  he  had  taken  the  pre* 
caution  of  dismissing  the  servants  to  sleep  in  the 
adjacent  offices,  began  to  fear  that  those  sounds 
might  reach  them,  and,  restless  himself  from  in- 
supportable inquietude,  rose  and  walked  up  and 
down  the  passage  that  led  to  that  room  of  horror 
As  he  was  thus  occupied,  he  thought  he  saw  a  figure 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  passage.  So  disturbed  was 
his  vision,  that  he  did  not  at  first  recognize 
Mon  fad  a.  Neither  asked  the  other  the  reason  of 
his  being  there— they  walked  up  and  down  together 
silently. 

"  In  a  short  time  the  sounds  became  'so  terrible, 
that  scarcely  had  the  awful  warning  of  the  Wanderer 
power  to  withhold  them  from  attempting  to  burst 
into  the  room.  These  noises  were  of  the  most 
mixed  and  indescribable  kind.  They  could  not  dis- 
tinguish whether  they  were  the  shrieks  of  supplica- 
tion, or  the  yell  of  blasphemy — they  hoped  inwardly 
they  might  be  the  former. 

"Towards  morning  the  sounds  suddenly  ceased 
—tkey  were  stilted  as  in  a  moment.  The  silence 
that  succeeded,  seemed  to  them  for  a  few  moments 
more  terrible  than  all  that  preceded.  After  con- 
sulting each  other  by  a  glance,  they  hastened 
together  to  the  apartment.    They  entered — it  was 


344 

empty — not  a  vestige  of  its  last  inhabitant  was  to  be 
traced  within. 

"After  looking  around  in  fruitless  amazement, 
they  perceived  a  small  door  opposite  to  that  by 
which  they  had  entered.  It  communicated  with  a 
back  staircase,  and  was  open.  As  they  approached 
it,  they  discovered  the  traces  of  footsteps  that 
appeared  to  be  those  of  a  person  who  had  been 
walking  in  damp  sand  or  clay.  These  traces  were 
exceedingly  plain :  they  followed  them  to  a  door 
that  opened  on  the  garden — that  door  was  opened 
also.  They  traced  the  footmarks  distinctly  through 
the  narrow  gravel  walk,  which  was  terminated  by  a 
broken  fence,  and  opened  on  a  heathy  field  which 
spread  half-way  up  a  rock  whose  summit  overlooked 
the  sea.  The  weather  had  been  rainy,  and  they 
could  trace  the  steps  distinctly  through  that  heathy 
field.    They  ascended  the  rock  together. 

"  Early  as  it  was,  the  cottagers,  who  were  poor 
fishermen  residing  on  the  shore,  were  all  up,  and 
assured  Melmoth  and  his  companion  that  they  had 
been  disturbed  and  terrified  the  preceding  night  by 
sounds  which  they  could  not  describe.  It  was 
singular  that  these  men,  accustomed  by  nature  and 
habit  alike  to  exaggeration  and  superstition,  used 
not  the  language  of  either  on  this  occasion. 

"  There  is  an  overwhelming  mass  of  conviction 
that  falls  on  the  mind,  that  annihilates  idiom  and 
peculiarities,  and  crushes  out  truth  from  the  heart. 
Melmoth  waved  back  all  who  offered  to  accompany 
him  to  the  precipice  which  overhung  the  sea. 
Mon^ada  alone  folowed  him. 

"  Through  the  furze  that  clothed  this  rock,  almost 
to  its  summit,  there  was  a  kind  of  tract  as  if  a 


345 

person  had  dragged,  or  been  dragged,  his  way 
through  it — a  down-trodden  tract,  over  which  no 
footsteps  but  those  of  one  impelled  by  force  had 
ever  passed.  Melmoth  and  Mon$ada  gained  at  last 
the  summit  of  the  rock.  The  ocean  was  beneath — 
the  wide,  waste,  engulphing  ocean!  On  a  crag 
beneath  them,  something  hung  as  'floating  to  the 
blast.  Melmoth  clambered  down  and  caught  it. 
It  was  the  handkerchief  which  the  Wanderer  had 
worn  about  his  neck  the  preceding  night — that  vmis 
the  last  trace  of  the  Wanderer 

"Melmoth  and  Mon^ada  exchanged  looks  of 
silent  and  unutterable  horror,  and  returned  slowly 
tome." 

from  the  Rev.  C.  R.  Maturing  Tale  of  "  JUMmctiL" 


340 


THE  ASTROLOGER,  No.  6, 


THE 


HOROSCOPE  OP  A  NOTED  CHARACTER. 

Communicated  by  a  Scientific  Correspondent. 


2>    <P   W 
D  Semiquartile  $ 
J*  Semiquartile  j? 
©  Semiquartile  $ 
y  Sesquiquadrate  $ 

3>    <J    b 


347 

Sir, 
This  is  a  correct  figure  of  the  heavens  at  the  birth 
of  a  celebrated  character  who  hoe  suffered  impri- 
sonment in  Portugal  under  Miguel,  and  who  is  the 
author  of  a  valuable  and  interesting  work  just  pub- 
lished, entitled,  "  A  Narrative  of  the  Imprisonment 
and  Trial  of  W.  Young,  Esq.  &c.  &c. ;  written  by 
himself."  I  had  the  honour  of  being  introduced  to 
him  a  few  days  ago,  when  he  gave  me  the  time  of  his 
birth,  after  I  had  lent  him  your  "  Prophetic  Messen- 
ger" for  the  ensuing  year,  which  he  looked  into,  and 
expressed  his  opinion  that  the  predictions  were 
very  likely  to  be  verified. 

XENOCRATES, 
*  Nov.  28,  1828,  llk  46*  A.M. 
>  in  a  in  Apoge. 

To  Don  Raphael,  Astro-Phito, 
Author  of  the 
"  Familiar  Astrologer." 

'  Xenocrates"  has  our  thanks  for  sending  us  this 
horoscope,  which  the  readers  of  the  "  Familiar 
Astrologer"  will  perceive  to  be  worthy  recording. 
The  author  whose  fate  it  registers,  was  certainly 
born  at  a  time  when  the  positions  in  the  firmament 
were  striking ;  and,  astrologically  speaking,  remark* 
ably  curious.  Travelling  is  very  plainly  denoted  by 
the  Moon,  Saturn  and  Jupiter  being  located  in  the 
cardinal  sign  Capricorn,  to  which  Mars  in  Sagitta- 
rius added  a  powerful  stimulus  when  that  planet 
aspected  the  principal  significators  by  "  ejection.* 
But  the  most  singular  positions  in  the  figure  are 
the  extraordinary  junction  of  no  less  then  six  primary 
planets  in  contiguous  signs,  and  within  60  degrees 

x  x 


348 

of  each  other ;  three  of  the  chief  stars  being  angular. 
Saturn  near  the  Moon,  and  the  semiquartile  of 
Saturn  and  Mercury  were  the  configurations  which 
foretold  imprisonment;  but  Jupiter  near  Saturn 
and.  the  three  signifitators,  Saturn,  Mars,  and 
Jupiter,  in  zodiacal  parallel,  imply  unexpected  aids, 
helps,  friends,  and  rescue  therefrom. 

We  know  nothing  of  the  author,  except  by  his 
book,  which  speaks,  no  doubt,  the  language  of  truth ; 
but  Venus  and  Mercury,  in  conjunction  in  the  scien- 
tific sign  Aquarius,  denote  a  clever,  ingenious  mind, 
and  they  give  much  of  erudite  abilities.    Luna  with 
Saturn  implies  melancholy,  or  secret  grief ;  but  the 
reigning  stars,  and  the  chief  of  the  configurated  sig- 
nificators,  evidently  imply  a  public  name,  and  either 
employment  relative  to  the  government,  or  some- 
thing of  titular  dignity,  but  many  enemies;  as  the 
Moon  is  not  only  afflicted  by  Saturn,  but  is  approach- 
ing to  the  opposition  of  Herschel.    This  same  aspect 
also  contributes  to  throw  many  extraordinary  obsta- 
cles in  the  way  of  his  advancement,  and  is  evil 
in  regard  to  marriage,  if  the  native  be  married,  of 
which  there  seems  some  doubt.     From  the  age  of 
42  years  to  nearly  52,  the  native  s  life  is  certain  to 
be  extraordinary  and   eventful ;   and  he  must  be 
extremely  careful  of  his  pursuits,   as  well   as  of 
enemies,   ill-advisers,   and,   indeed,  of  his  health, 
from  the  age  of  48  to  51^  years.     Late  in  life  there 
are  many  directions  which  portend  good  fortune. 


ua 

GEOMANCT. 

No.IV. 


THE  SENTENCE 

or 

atgutottto 
amissio 

AITHB 

JUDGE. 


350 


o  o 

o  o 

o  o 

o  o 


o  o 

o 
o  o 

o 


o  o 

o 
o  o 

o 


Questions. 

Answers, 

Long, 

Moderate, 

Mean, 

Business    .... 

Mean, 

Marriage  .... 

Lucky, 

Pregnancy. . . . 

Asm, 

Sickness    .... 

Health, 

Imprisonment . 

Doubt/id, 

Good. 

Thing  lost   . . 

Found, 

o  o 

o 
o  o 

o 


o  o 

o 

o  o 

c 


o  o 
o  o 
o  o 
o  o 


Questions, 

Answers, 

Long, 

Fortunate, 

Good. 

Business   .... 

Fortunate, 

Marriage  .... 

Good, 

Pregnancy. • • • 

A  son. 

Sickness    .... 

Health. 

Imprisonment . 

Death, 

than. 

Thing  lost   .. 

Found. 

o  o 

o  o  o 

o  o  o  o 

o  o     o  o       o 

o 

o  o 

o 


Questions. 

Answers. 

Meanly  long. 

Evil, 

III. 

III. 

Marriage  .... 

Ill, 

Pregnancy. . . . 

A  son. 

Sickness    .... 

Health. 

Imprisonment . 

Escapes. 

Evil. 

Thing  lost    .. 

Part  found. 

o  o 

o  o  o 

o  o  o  o 

o       o  o    o  o 

o 
o  o 

o 

Questions.  Answers. 


Meanly  hng 

Mean, 

Mean. 

Business  .... 

Indifferent. 

Marriage  .... 

Indifferent. 

Pregnancy.... 

A  sen. 

Sickness    .... 

Health. 

Imprisonment . 

Coma  out. 

Mean. 

Thing  lost    . . 

Found. 

361 


©  o 
o  o 
o  o 
o  o 


o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 


o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 


o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 


o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 


o  o 
o  o 
o  o 
o  o 


Amswm. 

ewrf. 

m. 

OV^HHB    •••  • 

•■    Aft, 

ifiiil,,. 

-  Vnlwcky. 

Pfegmcy**** 

JAmgkt*. 

OKUMv     •  •  •  • 

«vMBwy* 

l«prtw.nml . 

MJ1W  MirmM 

Eml. 

TM^ff  )ott«««  • 

mw9%  TvMMf  • 

OlMltfiMf. 


Skitt* . 

CAiteJy. 

Aft 

JSMBMM    •  ••  • 

Uttfrnrhmh. 

MMUmQ$   •••• 

Vmimky. 

cIvfHItf**** 

Admugkttr. 

**>•«. 

HmWL 

<Wm* 

Mnm. 

Tbfa^toft.... 

JWyvMMf* 

o  o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 


o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 


o 

o  o 
o  o 
o  o 


Lilt  .. 

Monty 


Mintage 


TMaglott.  .. 


A 


352 


o 

O 

o                o  o 

c                  o 

o        O  O     o  o 

o 

o  o 

o 

Questions.           Answers. 

Life 

Meanly  long* 
Indifferent. 

4 

Mean. 

Mean. 

Marriage  •••• 

Moderate. 

Pregnancy. ... 

Aeon. 

Health. 

Imprisonment . 

Come  out. 

Good. 

Thing  lost. ••• 

Not  found. 

O                      O  O 

O                         O 

O                       O   O 

o        o        o 

o  o 

o 

o  o 

Questions.           Answers. 

life 

Moderately  long 
Indifferent. 

> 

Mean. 

Moderate. 

Rather  good. 

Pregnancy. ... 

A  son. 

Health. 

Imprisonment 

Come  out. 

Late. 

Thing  lost.... 

Little  found. 

o 

o  o 

o 

o  o 


o 

o 
o 
o 


o  o 

o 

o  o 
o 

Questions.  Answers. 


Life 

Moderate 
Unlueky. 

Evil. 

Unlucky. 

Marriage  ..- 

Eml. 

Pregnancy. • • • 

A  son. 

Health. 

Imprisonment 

Come  out. 

Indifferent. 

Thing  lost  • . . 

Not  found. 

o  o 

o 
o  o 

o 


o 
o 
o 
o 


o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 

Questions.  Answers. 


Life 

Short.       1 
Little. 

Mean. 

.  ML 

Marriage  •  •  •  • 

UnbwJkg* 

Pregnancy**** 

A  son. 

Health. 

Imprisonment 

Come  out. 

Good. 

Thing  lost.... 

Not  found. 

353 


e  o 

e  o 
o 
o 


Questions 


O   C 

o 

o 
©  o    ©  © 

o 

o  o 

o 

jfHMUterS. 


kmdtrately  long 

Mean. 

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Good. 

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negnnncy  •••• 

J  female. 

a**— 

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lBprifOflflMBt 

Death. 

Mean. 

Thing  mat. ... 

Found. 

c  o 

o 

o 

o  o 


o  o 

o 
o  o 

o 


o  o 
o  o 

o 

o 


Question*. 

Answers. 

• 
Z*n/. 

Qeodhtck. 

Baeellemi. 

Fortunate. 

Marriage  ••  ••• 

Lucky. 

frag  nancy*  •  •  • 

Asm. 

Health. 

Imprisonment 

Come  oat. 

Journey    .... 

Excellent. 

Thing  tort  ••„ 

Found. 

c  o 
o  o 

o 
o 


o 

©•O 

o  o 

o 


o 
o  o 

© 
o  o 

Questions.  Answers. 


Li/e  .. 
Money. 
Honour 


Marriage 


Imprisonment* 


Thing  net.... 


Short. 
Rather  ewil. 

Not  good. 

Not  lucky. 
Unfortunate. 

Daughter. 

Tortious. 
Dangerous. 

Late. 
martfouma. 


© 

o  o 
o  o 

o 


o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 


o  o 
o  o 

o 
o 


Question*. 

Answers. 

Life 

Short. 
Not  good. 

Beit. 

Mi. 

Marriage  ...; 

Ill-fated. 

Pregnancy*  •  •  • 

A  eon. 

Health. 

Imprisonment 

Come  vut. 

SUm. 

Thing  lott...* 

Part  found. 

354 


o  o              o  o 

o  o                 o 

o                  o 

c  o    o  o      o 

o 

c  o 

o 

Questions.             Answers. 

Long, 
Fortunate, 

Excellent, 

Prosperous, 

Prosperous. 

Pregnancy. . . . 

A  son. 

Health. 

Imprisonment . 

Run  away. 

Slow. 

Thing  lost.... 

Found. 

• 

O   O 

o 
o  o 
o  o      c 

o 
c 
o 

Questions. 

O 

o 

o 
>      o  o 
o 

J 

o 

Answers. 

Short. 

1 

Ill-luck, 

Evil. 

J'exatious. 

Tedious. 

Pregnancy.... 

A  daughter. 

Health. 

Imprisonment . 

Come  out. 

111. 

Thing  lost. . . . 

Not  found. 

o  o 
o 
o 
o 


o  o 

o  o 

o 

o  o 


o  o 

o 
o  o 

o 

Questions.  Answers. 


Life 

Long  life. 
Great  wealth. 

Good. 

Fortunate. 

Excellent. 

Pregnancy. . . • 

A  daughter. 

Health. 

Imprisonment . 

Perilous. 

Mean. 

Thing  lost.... 

Found. 

o 

o 

o 

o  o 


o  o 

o 

o  o 

o  o 


o 
Q,  o 

o 
o  o 

Questions,  Answers. 


Life 


Money. 
Honour. 


Business 


Marriage..  . 
Pregnancy . . . 
Sickness. 


Imprisonment 
Journey... ... 

Thing  lost.... 


Short, 

Loss. 
Disgrace. 

Evil. 

Utt  lucky. 

A  son. 

Health. 

Come  out. 

Go»d. 
Not  found. 


3W 


0  o               o  o 

©   O 

0   O 

©                 o  o 

o  o 

O 

0  o                o  c 

o  c 

o  o 

c  o     o  o       o 

o 

O  O      o  o 

c 

o 

o  o 

©  o 

o 

o 

Questions.            Answers. 

Questions 

Answers. 

Meanly  fang. 

Indifferent. 

Mean. 

Batons    .... 

Mean. 

Marriage  .... 

Evil. 

Pmgnancy.... 

Daughter. 

Sickness 

Health. 

Imprisonment . 

Difficulty. 

Evil. 

Thing  lost     . . 

Part  found. 

Li'e    

Short. 

Unlucky. 

Evil. 

Business    .... 

Unfortunate. 

Marriage  •  ♦ . . 

Evil. 

Pregnancy.... 

A  son. 

Sickness     .... 

Danger. 

Imprisonment . 

Perilous. 

Unlucky. 

TUngk»t.... 

AwOfjvuna. 

• 

©  O 

© 

O 

O  O 

©  o 

c  c 

O   O 

o  c 

o  o 

c 

© 

c  c 

o         © 

o 

o 

©        © 

c  o 

o  c 

c 

c 

c  © 

o  © 

Questions. 

Answers. 

Questions.           Answer* 

1 

Meanly  long. 

■ 

Evil. 

■ 

*       Evil. 

Basinest    .... 

Bad. 

Marring*)  .... 

Bad. 

Pregnancy. .  •  • 

A  girl. 

Sickness    .... 

Health. 

fssneieooment . 

Cssnn  ami. 

Very  late. 

Thing  lot*. .. . 

Not  found. 

Mean. 

Mean. 

MfMl 

Business    .... 

hdiferent. 

Marriage  .... 

Evil. 

Pregnancy.  •  • 

A  maid. 

Health. 

Imprisonment . 

%d%^^nW  siHi 

Slow. 

Thing  lost 

i 

Not  found. 

r  y 


350 


o  o 
o  o 
o  o 

o 


o  o 

o 

o  o 

o 


o  o 

o 
o  o 
o  o 


Questions. 


Life 


Money 
Honour 


Business  . .  • . 
Marriage  .... 
Pregnancy.... 
Sickness 


Imprisonment 

Journey 

Thing  lost.... 


Answers* 

Short. 

Unfortunate. 

Disgrace* 

Loss* 

Separation* 

A  son* 

Danger* 

Danger. 

Ill  end. 

Not  found. 


O   O 

o 
o  o 

o  o     o  o 
o 
o  o 
o 

Questions. 


o  c 
o  o 
o  o 

o 


Meanly  long* 

mean* 

Indifferent. 

Business    .... 

Not  good. 

Marriage  ...'. 

Evil* 

Pregnancy..  •• 

A  daughter. 

Health. 

Imprisonment . 

Difficulty. 

Ill  end. 

Thing  Lost  .. 

Part  found. 

o 

o 

o  o 

o 


o  o 
o 
o 

o 


o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 

Questions.  Answers. 


Moderate. 

Unlucky. 

Evil. 

Business    .... 

Bad* 

Marriage  •  • .  • 

Moderate* 

Pregnancy  ... 

A  son* 

Health. 

Imprisonment . 

Escape. 

Mean. 

\  Thing  lost 

i 

Found. 

o  o 

o 
o 
o 


o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 


o 

o 

o  o 

o 


Questions. 


Li/e    

Short* 

Bad  task* 

MwiL 

Business   . ... 

Bml. 

Marriage  .... 

1  Unfortunate. 

Pregnancy. ... 

J  daughter. 

Health. 

Imprisonment . 

Corns  out. 

Bml* 

• 

Thing  lost 

Jfttjoanm 

357 


o 

o  o 
o  o 

o 


o  c 

o 
o  o 

o 


o 

o 
o  o 
o  o 


1                1 

Sufficient. 

aupBOy  *••••• 

^^m\*£*mS. 

^^nMmmUnn^nnm1mUMr0 

Jfa*. 

BoabMai  •••• 

1    ■ 

JnMffftwt 

Marriage  •••• 

ParMJf  good. 

ntegnancy.  •  •• 

A  SOU. 

Stekneai    • .  •  • 

Health. 

NpriaomDeot . 

Come  ami. 

Slow. 

TaioglMt.... 

Not  found. 

o 

o 
o  c 
o  o 


c 
o  o 
o  o 

o 


O   Q 

o 
o  o 

o 

Questions.  Answers. 


Indifferent. 

Evil. 

Business    .... 

Mean. 

Marriage  .... 

Mean. 

Pregnancy*  •  •  • 

/.  snasn. 

Sickness ...... 

Perilous. 

Insprieoiimenl . 

Dangerous. 

Thing  lost 1        Found. 

o  o 

o 

o 
o  o 


o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 


o 

o 
o  o 
o  o 


Questions. 

Answers. 

Life    

Jason. 

Money 

Mam 

Mean. 

Business    .... 

Moderate. 

Marriage  •••• 

(Shod. 

Pregnancy.... 

A  daughter. 

Sickness 

Perilous. 

iBtyriaonmant  • 

Come  out. 

8km. 

Thtagloai.... 

Noi  found. 

© 

o 

o  o 
o  o 


c 
o  o 

o 
o  o 


o  o 

o 

o 

o  o 


Questions. 

Answers. 

Mean. 

Mean. 

> 

Indifferent. 

Business    .... 

Indifferent. 

Marriage  .  •  •  • 

Moderate. 

Pregnancy. ... 

A  maid. 

Death. 

Imprisonment . 

Come  out. 

Mtean. 

Tblnglost.... 

Pound. 

358 


THE  ASTROLOGER,  No.  VII. 


31  iUmarfcafcJc  {lxtibit& 


XENOCRATES, 

A  Laioyer, 

Now  living  In  London,  and  still 

obliged  to  labour  at  the  oar 

for  his  support ; 


BORV 
Near  Leicester-square,  London, 

Sunday,  Feb.  \<Hhy  1760, 
4  A.  40m.  A.  M. 


CALCULATION  OF  THE  HOROSCOPE. 

By  an  Amateur. 


LIFE. 


The  O,  who  is  evidently   hyleg,  posited  in  the 
first  house  in  <5  with  %9  and  aspect  with  the  D  ,  who 


369 

is  in  the  10th,  also  unafflicted  by  the  malefics,  gives 
a  hale  constitution  and  long  life ;  more  especially  as 
0  is  rising  to  %,  and  elevated  above  »>.  The 
chief  interruption  of  health  will  be  at  twenty -Jive, 
short  but  violent,  at  thirty-seven,  at  forty-Jive,  and 
finally  at  seventy-four.* 

DI8EA8ES. 

h  and  the  ©  in  m  and  x  show  accidents  of  the 
lower  extremities,  and  probably  gout;  t  in  •*, 
points  out  affections  of  the  bowels,  such  as  inflam- 
mations arising  from  taking  cold  in  the  feet,  and 
obstruction  of  perspiration.  In  fact,  these  positions 
denote  a  cold  and  dry  constitution. 

FORTUNE. 

* ,  who  assumes  dominion  of  0,  is  retrogade  in  i*, 
occidental,  and  out  of  all  his  dignities;  which, 
with  h  exactly  on  the  cusp  of  the  second,  clearly 
show  that  the  native's  substance  will  never  increase. 
The  0,  however,  being  in  a  to  o,  %,  and  g, 
denote  that  he  will  acquire  more  possessive  property 
in  the  early  part  of  life  (they  being  also  angular), 
than  he  will  be  able  to  retain  at  a  later  period ;  be- 
cause the  0  is  occidental ;  but  as  0  is  in  a  trine 
aspect  to  all  these,  we  may  safely  venture  to  say 
that  the  native  will  never  want. 

*  Accident*  given  by  out  ComtpomUnt. 

TseawtberofXenocraiesdied  whenhe  wasll  yean  of  age,  via.  In  1771. 

Xeaoerates  minted  a  most  amiable  wife  in  1784,  who  was  at  beautiful  in  her 
pennn  as  her  mind  was  engaging  and  lovely j  and  after  living  with  her  3S  yean, 
we  departed  this  life  en  the  1st  of  November,  1821. 

On  the  91st  of  March,  1797,  Xenoemtes  broke  his  right  leg  by  jumping  on 
of  a  carriage  white  the  horses  were  turning  away,  which  happened  about  half, 
put  eight  or  nine  in  die  evening,  and  bis  father  died  in  the  latter  end  of  the  same 
rear;  and  the  year  1797  was  in  other  respects  most  unfortunate. 


3eo 


HONOURS. 


Both  0  and  »  being  angular,  D  in  a  masculine, 
0  in  a  feminine  sign,  the  native  will  obtain  some 
official  situation  in  early  life,  and  of  great  respect- 
ability ;  but,  from  the  near  approach  of  j?  to  the  ©, 
he  will  not  hold  it  for  any  considerable  period, 
although  capable  of  fulfilling  its  duties  with  credit 
and  reputation ;  and  the  mundane  □  between  © 
and  D ,  shows  discord  and  private  enemies  to  be  the 
cause.  ©  posited  in  an  airy  sign,  and  making 
application  to  h »  indicate  that  tardiness  and  inac- 
tivity will,  throughout  life,  lend  a  strong  tincture  to  his 
character,  and  which  will  influence  him  against  his 
interest  in  almost  every  situation. 

MARRIAGE 

Will  take  place  early  in  life,  as  the  d  is  oriental, 
angular,  and  applying  to  %  and  © ;  but  they  are  not 
strong,  occidental,  and  the  application  to  j?  will 
make  her  application  to  the  ©  of  none  effect,  though 
in  the  same  sign  with  % .  Consequently  there  will 
be  but  one  marriage ;  ¥  its  significator,  and  %  in  * 
descriptive  of  the  wife's  person. 

CHILDREN. 

•  •     * 

We  here  find  no  planets  in  the  tenth  or  eleventh, 
fourth  or  fifth,  except  the  Dm/,  who  is  there  hot 
weak,  it  being  a  masculine,  though  a  double-bodied, 
sign.  She  might,  indeed,  from  her  position,  give 
one,  but  the  J>  *  <*,  o  b,  o  ©,  a  x  and  the 
a  of  ©  %  h  g ,  both  to  the  tenth  and  fourth  are 
so  many  strong  testimonies  against  living  issue,  that 
it  is  not  probable  there  could  be  any  to  live  to  years 
of  maturity. 


361 


TRAVELLING  , 

Will  not  be  much,  though  from  4  's  occidental  posi- 
tion, there  will  be  some.  8  being  dispositor  of  $ , 
indicates  that  it  will  be  on  literary  or  professional 
pursuits ;  and  the  part  of  Fortune  being  disposed  of 
by  i,  and  assisted  by  a  a  aspect  of  the  ©,  %,  and 
9 ,  that  it  will  be  attended  with  profit ;  and,  from 
the  a  of  $  to  i ,  with  pleasure  and  amusement. 

PROFESSION. 

h  making  oriental  appearance  next  before  the  O, 
would  render  the  mind  studious  and  attentive  to 
literature;  it  also  in  *:,  nearest  the  9,  indicates 
connexion  with  papers ;  and  8  being  so  near  the 
ascendant,  influences  the  character  and  disposition 
through  life,  giving  it  a  turn  for  science,  literature,  &c. 

MIND, 

8  in  a  tropical  sign,  shows  it  to  be  highly  inge- 
nious and  active,  with  a  tincture  of  ambition,  but 
the  d  in  the  tenth,  and  8  in  v?,  gives  a  variable  in- 
clination, roving  from  one  science  to  another.  The 
9,  x,  and  8  in  *:,  and  &  in  m,  sfeow  an  attach- 
ment to  the  more  abstruse  branches  of  science,  as 
philosophy,  occult  sciences,  astrology,  &c. 


TO  THE  EDITOR  OF    THE  FAMILIAR  ASTROLOGER. 
8rtl, 

Perhaps  my  nativity  is  scarcely  worthy  of  pub- 
lication, though  there  is  a  wonderful  coincidence 
between  the  positions  and  aspects  of  the  heavenly 
bodies,  and  many  of  the  events  of  my  life.    The 


362 

commencement  of  my  earthly  career  was  remark- 
able, as  niy  birth  was  a  very  difficult  one,  being 
ushered  into  the  world  with  my  feet  foremost,  which 
seldom  occurs,  though  it  is  supposed  by  some  to  be 
a  token  of  superior  strength  in  the  child  while  in 
the  womb.  About  forty-five  years  ago,  a  learned 
astrologer  calculated  my  nativity,  which  I  soon 
afterwards  lost ;  but  I  remember  it  concluded  by 
stating,  that  if  I  had  been  bom  a  king,  I  should 
never  be  out  of  trouble;  and  if  I  had  been  born  a 
beggar,  I  should  never  want.  This  has  really  proved 
correct :  I  have  always  been  in  the  habit  of  antici- 
pating evils,  although  I  have  of  late  found  some 
relief  from  the  consolations  of  religion.  The  same 
astrologer  calculated  the  nativity  of  the  present  King, 
when  Prince  of  Wales  ;  and  observed,  that  if  ever 
his  Royal  Highness  should  have  the  command  of  an 
army,  he  would  conquer  the  most  powerful  foe ;  and  so 
it  turned  out  many  years  afterwards ;  for,  when  he 
became  Prince  Regent,  and  had  the  supreme  com- 
mand of  the  British  forces,  he  ultimately  overcame 
even  Napoleon  himself,  who  was  the  greatest  and 
the  bravest  General  that  ever  led  an  army  to  the 
field.  So  much  for  the  science  of  judicial  astrology. 
I  shall  only  add,  that  I  hope  the  foregoing  horoscope 
will,  by  developing  the  wonderful  truth  of  the 
science,  interest  your  numerous  admirers,  amongst 
whom  may  be  classed  your  correspondent, 

XENOCRATBS. 

To  Don  Raphael. 


3G3 


die  &&t*l0$et&  €ttt*. 


TO  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  FAMILIAR  ASTROLOGER. 

Sir, — The  following  I  have  laid  down  as  the  fun* 
damcntal  principles  on  which  to  found  my  astrolo- 
gical judgment ;  and,  would  it  not  give  you  too 
much  trouble,  I  beg  that  you  will  have  the  kindness 
to  insert  them  in  your  valuable  pages.  Observe, 
Sir,  these  principles  regard  only  nativities,  and 
not  horary  question-schemes. 

The  significations  of  the  planets  are  three — natural, 
heal,  or  derived  from  the  houses  of  which  they  are 
the  rulers ;  natural,  as  %  of  riches,  and  9  of  love ; 
local,  as  if  %  be  in  the  seventh  house,  he  Is,  though 
not  the  lord  of  the  seventh,  tod  though  signifying 
naturally,  riches,  &c„  the  significator  of  marriage,  or 
ueriyed  from  the  houses  of  which  they  are  the 
rulers ;  as  if  i  be  m  the  fifth  house  and  lord  of  the 
second  house,  though  no  significator  of  riches  by 
nature  or  locality,  he  is  a  significator  of  riches. 

The  houses  of  the  planets  do,  in  all  cases,  retain 
the  significations  given  them  by  the  most  experienced 
and  enlightened  astrologers;  and,  in  every  case, 
are  of  fortunate  or  unfortunate  import,  according  to 
their  strength  or  weakness,  the  good  or  evil  planets 
which  have  taken  up  their  abode  in  them,  and  the 
favourable  or  unfavourable  aspects  with  which  they, 
or  the  planets  in  them,  or  their  lords,  are  beheld: 
though  the  ruler  of  a  house  may,  from  the  sign  of 
it,  be  very  weak,  yet  from  any  of  the  benevolent 

z  z 


304 

planets  choosing  that  house  for  a  residence,  or  from 
the  good  aspects  towards  it,  or  towards  the  lord  of 
it,  who  is  hereby  rendered  strong,  abundance  of 
good  may,  by  such  house,  be  prefigured.  Planets 
are  rendered  as  powerful  or  debilitated  by  aspects,  as 
by  sign. 
This,  Sir,  for  the  present,  is  my  Astrological  Creed. 

J.  S. 

Bradford,  Yorkshire. 


REMARKABLE  EVENTS 

Which  have  befallen  certain  Persons  on  the  Anrnver- 
sary  of  their  Birth,  and  other  particular  Days. 

The  ancients  used  to  celebrate  the  annual  return 
of  their  birthdays  with  feasting,  music,  sports, 
mutual  presents,  and  whatsoever  else  might  serve 
to  entertain  with  highest  solemnity  the  revisits  of 
that  light  wherein  they  first  beheld  the  world ;  but 
notwithstanding  which  it  may  truly  be  said  with  the 
poet, 

"  No  day  from  sadness  so  exempt  appears, 
As  not  to  minister  new  cause  of  fears." 

Sallust. 

ANTIPATER  S1DON1US. 

Antipater  Sidonius,  the  poet,  throughout  the  whole 
space  of  his  life,  every  year,  for  only  one  day,  that 
is  to  say,  the  day  whereon  he  was  born,  was  seized 
with  a  fever  j  and  when  he  lived  to  a  great  age,  by 
the  certain  return  of  his  wonted  disease,  he  died 
upon  his  birthday. 


I 


365 


ELIZABETH. 

Elizabeth,  the  eldest  daughter  of  King  Edward 
the  Fourth,  and  eighteen  years  the  wife  of*  King 
Henry  the  Seventh,  died  in  child-bed,  in  the  Tower 
of  London,  the  11th  of  February,  the  very  day 
upon  which  she  was  born. 

ALEXANDER  THE  GREAT. 

Alexander  the  Great  is  said  to  have  been  born 
upon  the  6th  day  of  the  month  Targelion,  and  also 
to  have  died  on  the  same — that  is,  on  the  6th  of 
February. 

CAIUS    JULIUS  C<£8AR. 

Caius  Julius  Caesar  was  born  in  the  ides  of  March, 
and,  by  a  conspiracy  of  the  Nobles,  was  slain  in  the 
Senate-house  upon  the  same,  although  he  was  fore 
warned  to  take  care  of  them. 

AKTONIU8  CARACALLA. 

Antonius  Caracalla,  the  emperor,  was  slain  by 
Macrinus,  the  praetorian  prefect,  at  Carris,  in  Meso- 
potamia, upon  his  birthday,  which  was  the  6th  of 
the  ides  of  April,  the  twenty-ninth  of  his  age,  and 
the  sixth  of  his  empire. 

POPE  GREGORY. 

Pope  Gregory  the  Great  was  born  and  died  upon 
the  same  day,  upon  the  4th  of  the  ides  of  March. 

GARSIAS. 

Garsias,  the  great  grandfather  to  Petrarch,  having 
lived  one  hundred  and  four  years,  died,  as  did  also 


366 

Plato,  on  the  very  day  of  his  nativity,  and  in  the 
same  chamber  wherein  he  was  born. 

CHARLES  THE  GREAT. 

The  emperor  Charles  the  Great  was  buried  at 
Aquisgrave,  upon  the  same  day  whereon  he  was 
born,  a.  d.  810. 

MELANCTHON. 

Philip  Melancthon  died  a.  d.  1560,  in  the  sixty- 
third  year  of  his  age,  and  upon  the  day  of  his 
nativity,  which  was  the  13th  of  the  calends  of  May. 

CHARLES  THE  FIFTH, 

The  emperor  Charles  the  Fifth  was  born  on  the 
day  of  Matthias  the  Apostle ;  on  which  day,  also 
in  the  course  of  his  life,  was  King  Francis  taken  by 
him  in  battle,  and  the  victory  likewise  won  at  Cic- 
caque :  he  was  also  elected  and  crowned  emperor 
on  the  same  day;  and  many  other  great  fortunes 
befel  him  still  on  that  day. 

OFILIUS  HtLARUS. 

M.  Ofilius  Hilarus,  an  actor  of  comedies,  after  he 
had  highly  pleased  the  people  upon  his  birthday, 
kept  a  feast  at  home  in  his  own  house;  and  when 
supper  was  upon  the  table,  he  called  for  a  mess  of 
hot  broth,  and  casting  his  eye  upon  the  vizor  he  had 
worn  that  day  in  the  play,  he  fitted  it  again  to  his 
face,  and  taking  off  the  garland  which  he  wore  upon 
his  bare  head,  he  set  it  thereupon :  in  this  posture, 
disguised  as  he  sat,  he  died,  and  became  cold,  before 
any  person  in  the  company  knew  any  thing  of  the 
matter. 


3G7 


AUGUSTUS  C£SAR. 

Augustus  Caesar  had  certain  anniversary  sick 
nesses,  and  such  as  did  return  at  a  stated  and 
certain  time :  he  commonly  languished  about  the 
time  of  his  birthday,  which  was  the  9th  of  the 
calends  of  October. 

TIMOLEON. 

Timoleon,  general  of  the  Syracusans,  obtained 
the  greatest  of  his  victories  upon  his  birthday, 
which  thereupon  was  annually  and  universally  cele- 
brated by  the  Syracusans,  as  a  day  to  them  of  good 
and  happy  fortune. 

JULIUS    CiESAR. 

It  is  said  of  Julius  C&sar,  that  he  found  the  ides 
of  July  to  be  very  happy  and  auspicious  to  him  ;  at 
which  time  he  was  also  born. 

PHILIP  OP  MACEDON. 

King  Philip  of  Macedon  used  to  celebrate  the 
day  of  bis  birth  with  extraordinary  joy,  as  the  mos 
favourable  and  fortunate  to  him  of  all  other ;  for 
once  upon  that  day  he  had  a  triplicity  of  good  tidings 
—that  he  was  victor  in  the  chariot-race  in  the 
Olympics ;  that  Parmenio,  his  general,  had  gained 
a  most  important  victory;  and  that  the  queen 
Olympias  was  delivered  of  his  son  Alexander. 

OPHIONXUS. 

Ophioneus  was  one  amongst  the  Messenians  who 
had  the  gift  of  prophecy ;  and  Pausanias  says  of 
him,  that  immediately  after  his  birthday  he  was 


368 

annually  stricken  with  blindness.  Nor  is  this  less 
wonderful  in  the  same  person — that  after  a  vehe- 
ment fit  of  the  head-ache  he  would  begin  to  see ; 
and  then  presently  fall  from  thence  into  his  former 
blindness  again. 

HENRY  THE  EIGHTH, 

It  is  a  note  worthy  to  be  remembered,  that  Thurs- 
day was  observed  to  be  a  day  fatal  to  King  Henry 
the  Eighth,  and  to  all  his  posterity ;  for  he  himself 
died  on  Thursday,  the  28th  of  January;  King 
Edward  the  Sixth,  on  Thursday,  the  6th  of  July; 
Queen  Mary,  on  Thursday ,  the  17th  of  November; 
and  Queen  Elizabeth,  on  Thursday,  the  24th  of 
March. 

PRANCISCUS    BAUDIMES. 

Franciscus  Baudimes,  an  abbot,  a  citizen  of  Flo- 
rence, and  well  known  in  the  court  of  Rome,  died 
upon  the  anniversary  return  of  his  birth-day,  which 
was  upon  the  19th  day  of  December,  and  was  buried 
in  the  church  of  St.  Silvester  in  Rome ;  and  it  was 
the  observation  of  him  that  made  his  funeral  elegy, 
that  the  number  9  did  four  times  remarkably  happen 
in  his  affairs ;  he  was  born  on  the  nine-teentb  day, 
and  died  on  the  same,  being  aged  twenty-Jime,  and 
died  in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  1579. 

POPE  SIXTUS. 

Wednesday  is  said  to  have  been  fortunate  to  Pope 
Sixtus  the  Fifth ;  for  on  that  day  he  was  born,  on 
that  day  made  a  monk,  on  the  same  day  of  the  week 
created  a  general  of  his  order,  on  the  same  day  made 


369 

cardinal  f  on  the  same  day  made  pope,  and  on  the 
same  day  inaugurated. 

GONSALVO. 

Friday  was  observed  to  be  very  lucky  to  the  great 
Captain  Gonsalvo,  who  on  that  day  repeatedly 
conquered  the  French. 

HENRY  THE  SEVENTH. 

In  like  manner,  Saturday  was  peculiarly  fortunate 
to  Henry  the  Seventh. 

RAPHAEL. 

Raphael  de  Urbino,  who,  by  the  consent  of  man- 
kind, is  acknowledged  to  be  the  Prince  of  modern 
painters,  and  often  styled  the  "  divine  Raphael," 
as  well  for  the  grandeur  of  his  conception  as  the 
inimitable  graces  of  his  pencil,  was  bora  on  Good 
Friday,  Anno  1483.  As  a  reward  for  his  consum- 
mate merit,  he  had  hopes  of  receiving  a  cardinal's 
cap,  but  falling  ill  of  a  fever,  death  deprived  him  of 
the  expected  honour,  on  Good  Friday,  1520. 

OLIVER  CROMWELL. 

The  3d  of  September  was  a  remarkable  day  in 
the  history  of  Oliver  Cromwell.  On  that  day,  1650, 
he  gave  the  Scots,  whom  he  hated  and  despised,  a 
total  overthrow  at  the  battle  of  Dunbar.  On  that 
day  twelvemonth  he  defeated  Charles  the  Second 
at  Worcester ;  and  on  that  day,  in  the  year  1658, 
he  gave  up  the  ghost,  in  the  midst  of  one  of  the 
greatest  storms  that  was  ever  known  in  England. 


370 


CONVERSATIONS  UPON  ASTROLOGY. 

No.  I. 

TAKEN  FROM  THE  MEMORANDA  OF  THE  MERCURII. 


PresctU — Raphael,  the  Secretary,  and  Members. 


*  Raphael. — "  The  usual  attention  of  our  Society 
relative  to  affairs  of  its  own  immediate  interest  being 
over,  it  now  remains  for  us  to  join  in  scientific 
discussion." 

Captain  B. — "I  shall  begin  by  resuming  my 
former  queries  upon  the  effects  of  transits.  Allow 
me,  therefore,  to  ask  your  opinion,  Raphael,  upon 
the  effects  which  the  transit  of  Saturn  in  Leo  will 
have  in  my  horoscope  V9 

Raphael.  —  "Let  us  see:  the  Moon  in  Libra 
ascending ;  Sol  and  Mercury  in  Taurus ;  Leo  on  the 
eleventh  house ;  Jupiter  therein; — why,  undoubtedly 
evil,  during  his  first  sojourn  in  the  sign.  For  you 
will  remember  my  theory  advanced  at  our  last  meet- 
ing,, that  in  nativities,  the  transit  of  Saturn  is  more 
evil  by  far  than  that  of  any  other  planet,  not  even 
excepting  Herschel." 

J.  L. — "  My  opinion  is,  that  if  a  good  direction 
operates,  at  the  time  of  the  transit,  much  of  the  evil 
will  be  lessened." 

Raphael. — "  Lessened  it  may  be,  but  not  annihi- 
lated :  you  will  bear  in  mind  that  the  good  foreshown 
by  a  good  direction,  at  the  time  of  an  evil  transit,  will 
also  be  lessened.  And  if  Saturn  be  in  evil  aspect 
to  the  luminaries  at  birth,  the  evil  will  be  greatly 
augmented." 


371 


H.  W. — "  Pray,  Raphael,  what  places  in  the 
horoscope  do  you  find  to  be  generally  most  afflicted 
by  transit*  ?" 

Raphael. — u  Of  course,  in  the  nineteenth  century, 
we  astrologers  do  not  (after  discovering  Herschel, 
and  correcting  our  Tables  to  the  true  obliquity  of 
the  ecliptic,  and  obeying  the  call  of  the  '  march  of 
intellect' )  keep  to  the  antiquated  rules  of  our  fore- 
fathers, ifetpecting  one  single  planet  bearing  sole 
rale  as  lord  of  our  ascendant ;  and  tying  us  down 
perforce  to  good  or  evil  all  our  days,  merely  by  his 
mighty  flat*  No:  whether  Saturn  or  Mars  (evil 
enough,  God  knows),  Jupiter  or  Venus,  rules  our 
ascendants,  that  alone  we  little  heed.  I  need  not  tell 
my  brethren .m  art  here  assembled,  and  those  gentle- 
men  who  attend  can  amorc,  that  astrologers,  now, 
bear  a  true  philosophical  attention  to  cause  and  effect : 
it  is  the  *hoie  horoscope,— each  sign,  each  star,  each 
aspect, — we  now  look  to ;  weighing  each  by  its  merits, 
analyzing  every  configuration,  scrutinizing  every 
orb,  and  taking  nought  by  theory  as  correct,  except 
borne  out  by  experience.  But  I  believe,  that  leaving 
ascendants  and  midheavens  out  of  the  question, 
Saturn  hurts  most  when  transiting  over  the  radical 
places  of  the  luminaries  Sol  and  Luna.  I  remember 
a  case  in  point,  of  a  certain  person  whose  nativity 
I  calculated  a  few  years  back,  who  had  the  Sun  in 
Gemini  in  the  eighth  house,  Jupiter  in  the  ninth  in 
Cancer;  and  although  the  Sun  by  direction  .came  to 
the  conjunction  of  Jupiter  both  in  zodiac  and  mundo, 
yet  Saturn  transttting  Gemini,  the  Sun's  place, 
instead  of  any  good,  as  some  would  imagine,  the 
native  became  a  bankrupt ;  Saturn  proving  here  to 
exceed  in  power  over  the  operating  arc  of  direction. 

3  A 


372 

I  remember  predicting  in  '  Urania9  that  year,  how 
disastrous  1825  would  be  to  the  community  at  large, 
and  the  succeeding  events  too  well  proved  it  to  be 
the  case ;  witness  the  famous  panic  in  the  City.  This 
gentleman  above  named,  was  one  of  the  many  who 
fell  a  victim  thereto.  The  transit  of  Saturn  over 
Mercury  and  Venus  is  also  very  unfortunate;  and 
over  the  Moon,  perhaps,  still  worse. 

Captain  B. — "  And  pray,  may  I  inquire  the  result 
of  your  studies  upon  the  transit  of  Mars  ?" 

J.  T. — "As  Raphael  has  permitted  me,  I  will 
answer  for  him,  having  been  instructed  in  his  theory 
some  short  time  since.  The  transit  of  Mars,  occur- 
ring so  often,  and  remaining  so  short  a  time  in  force 
(unless  Mars  should  turn  retrograde),  will  pass  over 
lightly,  if  no  other  cause  intervene  to  prolong  its 
effects/' 

H.  W. — "  And  yet,  if  I  remember,  a  Mr.  Wilson 
is  of  the  clean  contrary  opinion." 

J.  T.  — "True;  but  €  fronti  nulla  fides:  This 
said  sage  Mr.  Wilson  has  (if  I  may  be  allowed  to 
quote  an  old  author)  but  *  saluted  astrology  at  the 
threshold  \y—vidt  his  assertions  in  his  Preface,  where 
he  states  that  an  astrologer  may  think  himself  for- 
tunate, if,  in  the  course  of  his  life,  he  acquired  only 
€  six  remarkable  nativities'  to  practise  upon.  Strange 
grounds  whereon  to  build  the  superstructure  of  an 
eternal  science !  What  will  he  think,  when  we 
tell  him  that  Raphael's  Astrological  Album  con- 
tains the  correct  data  of  several  thousand  horo- 
scopes ?  Besides,  Mr.  W.  decries  all  the  mundane 
directions." 

Captain  B. — u  If  Raphael  were  destitute  of  such 
examples,    how  could  he  have  made  his  various 


373 

discoveries  relative  to  the  long-lost  theories  of  the 
ancients  ?    How " 

Raphael. — "  Brother  students ;  allow  me  to  remark, 
that  I  am  indebted  to  patient  perseverance  alone  for 
such  discoveries.'* 

Captain  B. — "  Yes ;  and  also  to  the  fortunate  con- 
figuration of  Mercury  in  your  horoscope.  Mercury 
in  Cazimi,  in  exact  mundane  sevtiie  to  Jupiter ;  and 
zodiacal  textile  to  Saturn,  cannot  fail  to  elicit  scientific 
discoveries." 

/.  T — "  In  directions,  whether  in  zodiac  or  in 
mundo,  I  allow  Mars  to  be  as  hostile,  or  more  so, 
than  Saturn." 

Raphael. — €€  More  so,  if  Mars  be  void  of  the  for- 
tunate beams  of  Jupiter  or  Venus,  and  afflicted  by 
Saturn  or  Herschel." 

/.  T. — "  Right ;  I  remember,  in  the  horoscope 
of  a  '  would-be  astrologer/  who  wrote  some  few 
years  back  in  a  periodical  termed " 

Several  Members. — u  Do  not  confer  immortality 
upon  his  name,  by  mentioning  it  in  our  minutes, 
which  Raphael  will  hereafter  promulgate ,f 

/.  T. — u  By  no  means ;  the  foolish  and  eccentric 
unfledged  opinions  of  that  thoughtless  writer  having 
long  ago  met  their  just  reward — viz.  the  scorn  and 
contumely  of  the  age, — I  would  only  remark,  in 
order  to  keep  other  students  from  judging  rashly 
without  experience,  that  he  had  the  temerity  to " 

lieutenant  M. — u  To  predict  some  heavy  calamity 
would  befal  a  member  of  the  learned  Society  now 

convened,  upon the  transit  of  Jupiter  over  the 

radical  place  of  the  Moon  1 1 !" 

/.   T. — "Puny  absurdity!— disgusting    inanity 


374 

tself !    This  student  must  have  been  ignorant  of  his 
a,  b,  c,  in  astrology." 

C.  S. — "  No  wonder,  then,  that  his  errors  met 
such  a  sound  lashing  as '  Medusa9  once  gave  him  in  a 
certain  publication." 

J.  T. — * '  I  need  scarcely  remark,  that  the  person 
to  whom  the  evil  was  predicted,  was  unusually  for- 
tunate at  the  time  the  predicted  evil  was  to  have 
taken  place." 

H.  W. — u  As  he  must  have  been  of  course;  I  am 
at  a  loss  to  account  for  such  an  egregious  blunder; 
for  Jupiter  being  a  fortunate  planet,  his  transit  must 
have  been  doubly  fortunate  also." 

C.  «S.  —  "  As  that  writer  has  since  disappeared 
from  the  horizon  of  science,  and  as  his  nativity  may 
be  seen  in  €  The  Astrologer  of  the  Nineteenth  Cen- 
tury/ I  need  only  mention,  that  you  will  easily  recog- 
nize it  by  his  Mercury  beingin  zodiacal sesquiquadr ate  to 
Hersckel,  and  Herschel  in  mundane  square  to  Saturn." 

Captain  B. — "  Pardon  me  ;  enough  of  this; — none 
of  his  writings,  under  such  a  configuration,  will 
ever  prosper.  You  will  allow  me  to  congratulate 
both  Raphael,  and  the  Society  of  theMercurii,  upon 
the  increasing  success  of  '  The  Prophetic  Mes- 
senger/" 

Omnes. — "  Assuredly ;  *  The  Prophetic  Messen- 
ger/ and  its  ten  thousand  readers,  will  avouch  for 
the  truth  of  astrology,  as  well  as  for  the  great 
labour  Raphael,  its  author,  had  in  calculations  so 
profound ; — may  it  succeed  to  Time's  last  limits  /" 

H.  W. — t€  Astrology  may  now  feel  proud  of  its 
champions ; — the  march  of  science  is  abroad,  as  well 
as  that  of  -  intellect/  " 


375 

Captain  A—"  I  predict,  that  in  another  century 
the  sublime  and  celestial  science  of  the  stars  will 
be  taught  at  the  London  University ;  and,  what  is 
of  more  consequence,  at  the  King's  College.9' 

Omnes. — "  Of  course,  the  pure  astrology,  divested 
of  every  trace  and  vestige  of  superstition ; — such 
as  we  presume  to  practise." 

Captain  B.— ."  And  such  an  astrology  as  Raphael 
alone  advocates, — the  astrology  whose  attractions 
are  as  the  Sun  in  the  firmament,  when  compared 
with  other  perishing  sciences ; — the  light  of  truth ; 
the  astrology  of  reason,  guided  by  experience.  I 
remember,  at  one  of  our  former  meetings  in  the 
Temple  of  Science,  it  was  deemed  advisable  to  let 
the  literary  and  curiously  scientific  world  have  a 
glimpse  of  that  extraordinary  manuscript,  which 
was  purchased  of  that  worthy  bookseller,  Mr.  J. 
Denley.  Pray,  can  you  inform  me,  Raphael,  if  such 
is  to  be  the  case  V9 

Raphael.—"  It  is ;  the  chief  part  of  that  invalu- 
able manuscript  will  immediately  appear  under  the 
title  of  '  The  Royal  Book  of  Fate."  I  have  shown 
the  MS.  to  many  philosophical  characters,  and  a 
few  select  antiquarians  (of  the  Royal  Society),  all 
of  whom  join  in  attributing  '  the  palm'  to  the  singu- 
larity of  its  contents ;  and  as  there  can  be  no  doubt 
of  its  success,  considering  the  place  from  whence  it 
is  sent  forth  to  the  world,  it  will  add  another  link  to 
the  chain  of  our  successes.  That  excellent  and  libe- 
ral publisher,  Mr.  R.  Ackermann,  of  the  Strand,  not 
only  suggested  many  valuable  hints  relative  to  the 
form  in  which  it  would  be  best  to  appear,  but 
expressed  his  opinion  of  it*  curious  contents  in  very 
unqualified  terms/9 


376 

Omncs.  —u  Let  the  '  Royal  Book  of  Fate,'  then, 
be  placed  in  the  library  of  the  '  Mf.kcukh.'" 

Raphael. — "  Of  course  it  will,  brother  students; 
and  there  remain  as  the  most  curious  specimen  of 
ancient  prognostications  from  geomancy  ever  offered 
to  the  public  gaze." 

C.  S.  — "  Apropos  of  this — what  do  you  think, 
Raphael,  of  fortunate  days  and  hours  ?" 

Raphael. — "  It  is  my  opinion,  that  by  the  choice 
of  fortunate  days  and  hours,  much  evil  may  certainly 
be  avoided ;  for  it  is  our  bounden  duty  to  make 
use  of  the  proper  means,  and  leave  the  result  to  the 
will  of  Divine  Providence  ;  hence  it  is,  too,  that  a 
foreknowledge  of  the  nativity  is  eminently  useful :  for 
even  as  we,  in  natural  agents,  are  well  aware  that  by 
the  t  known  properties  of  fire,  it  will  either  burn  or 
warm,  according  to  the  intensity  of  its  heat,  and 
the  mode  of  its  application ;  even  so,  in  celestial 
lore,  the  astrologer,  by  a  due  attention  to  the  horo- 
scope of  the  hour,  the  nativity  of  the  individual,  and 
the  celestial  configurations  of  the  time,  may  work 
many  strange  effects ;  but  all  amenable  to  reason, 
and  founded  on  natural  causes,  devoid  alike  of 
superstition  or  imposture.  Hence  those  days, 
wherein  the  Moon  and  planets  are  fortunately 
configurated,  are  really  most  apt  to  be  chosen  as 
fit  for  certain  purposes,  which  those  who  neglect 
them  too  plainly  discover,  when  they  have  let  slip 
the  opportunity.  No  wise  man, — nor,  indeed,  any 
one  in  his  senses, — will  shun  the  choice  of  times 
and  seasons; — all  the  world  over,  inquiries  are  made 
as  to  the  best  time  for  doing  '  such  and  such  a 
thing/      Astrology,    alone,    furnishes    this    deride- 


377 

Captain  B.—€f  And  your  '  Prophetic  Guide/ 
I  perceive,  explains  it." 

Raphael. — "  The  intricacy  of  the  calculations,  you, 
brother  students,  are  well  aware  of.  I  can  only  say 
it  is  correct.9' 

Omnes. — "  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  its  perfecti- 
bility in  that  case/9 

Captain  B. — "  Pray,  Raphael,  allow  me  to  request 
your  scientific  reasons  for  the  remarkable  fulfilment 
of  your  predictions  in  December,  1828  (^  P.  Mesf*) 
— viz.  where  you  state,  '  J  grieve  to  see  the  decline 
of  the  year  productive  of  much  evil ;  this  wilt,  I  fear, 
be  a  month  of  accidents,  dangers,  and  considerable 
troubles,  robberies,  fires,  and  numerous  maligni- 
ties/ &c.  To  which,  also,  our  learned  foreign  cor- 
respondent, Madame  L.  N.9  has  requested  the  same 
favour ;  and  which  are  so  amply  borne  out  by  the 
recent  tremendous  failure  in  the  City  ;  the  flight  of 
the  banker  and  his  clerk,  with  their  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  cash ;  as  well  as  by  the  cruel,  horrible, 
and  revolting  atrocities, — murder  it  its  deepest  dye, 
— in  the  good  city  of  Edinburgh.'9 

/.  F.— "  I  hear  that  the  author  of  '  Waverley9 
has  visited  the  horrible  den  of  the  murderer,  and 
expressed  his  opinion  that  his  most  fertile  imagination 
could  not  have  sketched  such  a  fiendish  scene  and 
such  hellish  monsters.'9  ' 

C.  S. — "  He  has  visited  it ;  and  I,  too,  would 
also  request  our  Secretary  to  give  his  astrological 
reasons  for  such  an  instance  of  foresight.99 

Raphael. — €i  In  the  '  Astrologer  of  the  Nine- 
teenth Century,9  you  will  remember,  I  have,  at 
large,  gone  through  the  list  of  fires,  murders,  and 
calamities,  produced  by  mundane  transits  of  the  infor- 


378 

times  over  the  ascendants  of  certain  cities.  As  the 
theory  there  laid  down  cost  me  many  years  close 
attention  to  embody,  I  beg  leave  to  refer  your 
leisurely  attention  to  the  recital  there  given;  but  I 
shall  also  remark,  that,  by  consulting  your  ephemeris, 
you  will  find  that  the  infortunes  Mars  entered  the 
sign  Pisces,  as  December,  1828,  began.  Now  I  must, 
once  for  all,  lay  it  down  as  an  incontrovertible 
maxim,  that  neither  Saturn,  nor  Mars,  ever  pass 
through  the.  signs  Gemini,  Sagittarius,  Virgo,  or 
Pisces,  without  producing  something  publicly  evil; 
something  which  causes  the  tongues  of  thousands 
to  talk  thereof,  in  which  I  do  think  Mars  has  greatest 
power  'but,  thank  heaven !  unless  retrograde,  his  cruel 
influences  are  soon  over,  and  he  certainly  is  worse 
by  far  in  mundane  affairs  than  in  nativities).  But  it 
must  be  well  remembered  that  here,  as  in  nativities, 
the  philosophy  of  cause  and  effect  must  be  duly 
weighed,-  that  is,  to  observe  whether  Mars,  when 
passing  through  these  signs,  receives  any  assistance 
from  Jupiter  or  Venus ;  for  if  he  does,  the  evil  will 
not  be  so  deeply  felt.  Now,  you  will  take  notice, 
that  during  the  whole  of  December,  1828,  and  espe- 
cially from  the  10th  day  downward,  Mars  was  tran- 
sitting  Pisces  in  quartile  to  the  ascendant  of  the 
metropolis,  void  of  any  benevolent  ray  to  mitigate 
his  disastrous  portents.  Hence,  I  could  not  do 
otherwise  than  predict  it  would  prove  to  be  a 
most  evil  month ;  and  further,  on  the  24th  Decem- 
ber, Mars  came  to  a  sesquiquadrate  of  Herschel, 
increasing  his  malignant  rays  to  a  wonder.  The 
failure  of  the  banking  establishment  you  speak  of, 
and  the  revolting  contents  of  the  public  journals 
relative  to  the  aforenamed  foul  and  horrid  murders, 


379 

ou  will  observe,  each  took  place  as  December  drew 
o  a  conclusion ; — a  proof  of  astral  agency,  I  should 
think,  which  will  meet  public  attention." 

Captain  B. — "  Especially  when  it  is  remembered 
that  our  discussions  this  evening  will  be  registered 
in  the  '  Familiar  Astrologer;9  which,  being  promul- 
gated by  the  celebrated  and  liberal  publishers  of  the 

Mechanics  Magazine'  (that  travels  over  half  the 
world,  diffusing  bright  rays  of  knowledge),  will 
ensure  its  perusal  by  many  thousand  persons,  both 
in  England  and  on  the  Continent/9 

/.  T. — u  I  suppose  most  of  our  brethren  here 
present  have  read  Sir  R.  Phillips's  late  description  of 
'The  living  Alchemist/  as  he  is  pleased,  sneer* 
ingly,  to  term  him/9 

Omnes. — "  Too  sneeringly,  I  think,  for  his  friend 
and  a  member  of  our  Society,  a  worthy  and  scien- 
tific character,  and,   I  may  add,  a  clever  astro 
loger * 

Captain  B. — "  Mr.  John  Varley,  the  celebrated 
artist,  I  presume " 

J.  T. — "  The  same.—  Mr.  V.  has  a  high  opinion 
of  Mr.  Kellerman's  talents  :  it'  is  said  that  Mr.  K. 
has  gone  through  the  circle  of  the  sciences  ;  a  self- 
taught  student  (if  not  an  adept),  he  is  well  acquainted 
with  astrology,  and  pursues  his  alchemical  studies 
on  the  theory  of  a  modern  chemist,  notwithstanding 
what  Sir  Richard  affirms/9 

Raphael. — "  Sir  Richard  Phillips  was  formerly  a 
close  student  in  astrology  himself;  and,  I  believe, 
professed  something  of  the  sort.  This  you  are  pro- 
bably not  aware  of. 

Captain  B. — "  With  permission,  I  will  read  the 

3  B 


following  extract  from  Sir  Richard  Phillips's  Tour, 
upon — 

"  The  living  Alchemist. 

"  It  was  four  miles  out  of  the  road  ;  but  I  thought 
a  modern  alchemist  worthy  of  a  visit,  particularly  as 
several  inhabitants  of  Luton  gravely  assured  me 
that  he  had  succeeded  in  discovering  the  Philoso- 
pher's Stone,  and  also  the  Universal  Solvent.  The 
reports  about  him  would  have  rendered  it  culpable 
not  to  have  hazarded  anything  for  a  personal  inter- 
view. I  learnt  that  he  had  been  a  man  of  fashion, 
and  at  one  time  largely  concerned  in  adventures  on 
the  turf;  but  that  for  many  years  he  had  devoted 
himself  to  his  present  pursuits ;  while,  for  some  time 
past,  he  had  been  inaccessible  and  invisible  to  the 
world — the  house  being  shut  and  barricadoed,  and 
the  walls  of  his  grounds  protected  by  hurdles,  with 
spring-guns  so  planted  as  to  resist  intrusion  in 
every  direction.  Under  these  circumstances,  I  had 
no  encouragement  to  go  to  Lilley,  but  I  thought  that 
even  the  external  inspection  of  such  premises  would 
repay  me  for  the  trouble.  At  Lilley,  I  inquired  for 
his  house,  of  various  people,and  they  looked  ominous ; 
some  smiled,  others  shook  their  heads,  and  all 
appeared  surprised  at  the  approach  of  an  apparent 
visitor  to  Mr.  Kellerman. 

"  The  appearance  of  the  premises  did  not  bdie 
vulgar  report.  I  could  not  help  shuddering  at  see- 
ing the  high  walls  of  respectable  premises  lined  at 
the  top  with  double  tiers  of  hurdles  ;  and  on  driving 
my  chaise  to  the  front  of  the  house,  I  perceived  the 
whole  in  a  state  of  horrid  dilapidation.     Contrary, 


381 

however,  to  my  expectation,  I  found  a  young  man, 
who  appeared  to  belong  to  the  outbuildings,  and  be 
took* charge  of  eay  card  for  his  matter,  and  went  to 
the  back  part  of  the  bouse  to  deliver  it.  The  front 
windows  on  the  ground-floor  and  the  upper  stories 
were  entirely  closed  by  inside  shutters ;  much  of  the 
glass  was  broken,  and  the  premises  appeared  alto- 
gether as  if  deserted .  I  was  pleased  at  the  words, 
'My  master  will  be  happy  to  see  you ;'  and  in  a 
Donate  the  front  door  was  opened,  and  Mr.  Keller- 
man  presented  himself. — I  lament  that  I  have  not 
the  peaeil  of  Hogarth,  for  a  more  original  figure 
never  was  seen.  He  was  about  six  feet  high,  and  of 
athletic  make ;  on  his  head  was  a  white  night-cap, 
and  hip  dress  consisted  of  a  long  great-coat  once 
green,  and  he  had  a  sort  of  jockey  waistcoat  with 
three  tiers  of  pockets.  His  manner  was  extremely 
polite  and  graceful,  but  my  attention  was  chiefly 
absorbed  by  his  singular  physiognomy.  His  com- 
plexion was  deeply  sallow;  and  his  eyes  large, 
black,  and  rolling.  He  conducted  me  into  a  very 
large  parlour,  with  a  window  looking  backward ;  and 
having  locked  the  door,  and  put  the  key  in  his 
pocket,  he  desired  me  to  be  seated  in  one  of  two  large 
armchairs  covered  with  sheepskins.  The  room  was 
a  realization  of  the  well-known  picture  of  Teniers' 
Alchemist.  The  floor  was  covered  with  retorts, 
crucibles,  alembics,  jars,  bottles  in  various  shapes, 
intermingled  with  old  books  piled  upon  each  other, 
with  a  sufficient  quantity  of  dust  and  cobwebs.  Dif- 
ferent shelves  were  filled  in  the  same  manner ;  and 
on  one  side  stood  his  bed.  In  a  corner,  somewhat 
shaded  from  the  light,  I  beheld  two  heads,  white, 
with  daik  wigs  on  them;   I  entertained  no  doubt, 


382 

therefore,  that  among  other  fancies,  he  was  engaged 
in  re-making  the  brazen  speaking  head  of  Roger 
Bacon  and  Albertus.  Many  persons  might  have 
felt  alarmed  at  the  peculiarity  of  my  situation ;  but 
being  accustomed  to  mingle  with  eccentric  charac- 
ters, and  having  no  fear  from  any  pretensions  of 
the  Black  Art,  I  was  infinitely  gratified  by  all  I  saw. 

"  Having  stated  the  reports  which  I  had  heard, 
relative  to  his  wonderful  discoveries,  I  told  him 
frankly  that  mine  was  a  visit  of  ^curiosity  ;  and  stated 
that  if  what  I  had  heard  was, matter  of  fact,  the 
researches  of  the  ancient  chemists  had  been  unjustly 
derided.  He  then  gave  me  a  history  of  his  studies; 
mentioned  some  men  whom  I  had  happened  to  know 
in  London,  who  he  alleged  had  assured  him  that 
they  had  made  gold.  That  having  in  consequence 
examined  the  works  of  the  ancient  alchemists,  and 
discovered  the  key  which  they  had  studiously  con- 
cealed from  the  multitude,  he  had  pursued  their 
system  under  the  influence  of  new  lights  ;  and  after 
suffering  numerous  disappointments,  owing  to  the 
ambiguity  with  which  they  described  their  processes, 
he  at  length  happily  succeeded,  and  made  gold; 
and  could  make  as  much  more  as  he  pleased,  even 
to  the  extent  of  paying  off  the  national  debt  in  the 
coin  of  the  realm, 

"  I  yielded  to  the  declaration,  expressed  my  satis- 
faction at  so  extraordinary  a  discovery,  and  asked 
him  to  oblige  me  so  far,  as  to  show  me  some  of 
the  precious  metal  which  he  had  made* 

"  '  Not  so/  said  he ;  €  I  will  show  it  to  no  one. 
I  made  Lord  Liverpool  the  offer,  that  if  he  would 
introduce  me  to  the  King,  I  would  show  it  to  His 
Majesty ;  but  Lord  Liverpool   insolently  declined, 


383 

on  the  ground  that  there  was  no  precedent ;  and  I 
am  therefore  determined  that  the  secret  shall  die 
with  me.  It  is  true  that,  in  order  to  avenge  myself 
of  such  contempt,  I  made  a  communication  to  the 
French  ambassador,  Prince  Polignac,  and  offered 
to  go  to  France,  and  transfer  to  the  French  Govern- 
ment the  entire  advantages  of  the  discovery ;  but 
after  deluding  me,  and  shuffling  for  some  time,  I 
found  it  necessary  to  treat  him  with  the  same  con- 
tempt as  the  others/ 

"I  expressed  my  convictions  in  regard  to  the 
doable  dealing  of  men  in  office. 

"  '  0/  said  he,  •  as  to  that,  every  court  in  Europe 
well  knows  that  I  have  made  the  discovery ;  and 
they  are  all  in  confederacy  against  me,  lest,  by 
giving  it  to  any  one,  I  should  make  that  country 
master  of  all  the  rest :  the  world,  Sir/  he  exclaimed 
with  great  emotion,  *  is  in  my  hands  and  my  power.' 

"  Satisfied  with  this  announcement  of  the  dis- 
covery of  the  philosopher's  stone,  I  now  inquired 
about  the  sublime  alkahest,  or  universal  solvent, 
and  whether  he  had  succeeded  in  deciphering  the 
enigmatical  descriptions  of  the  ancient  writers  on 
that  most  curious  topic. 

"  *  Certainly/  he  replied ;  *  I  succeeded  in  that 
several  years  ago/ 

"  '  Then/  I  proceeded,  *  have  you  effected  the 
other  great  desideratum — the  fixing  of  mercury/ 

" '  Than  that  process/  said  he,  '  there  is  nothing 
more  easy ;  at  the  same  time  it  is  proper  I  should 
inform  you,  that  there  are  a  class  of  impostors,  who, 
mistaking  the  ancient  writers,  pretend  it  can  be  done 
by  heat;  but  I  can  assure  you  it  can  only  be 
effected  by  water/ 


384 

is  I  then  besought  him  to  do  me  the  favour  to  show 
me  some  of  his  fixed  mercury ;  having  once  seen 
some  which  had  been  fixed  by  cold. 

"  This  proposition,  however,  he  declined,  because, 
he  said,  he  had  refused  others.  '  That  you  may, 
however,  be  satisfied  that  I  have  made  great  disco- 
veries, here  is  a  bottle  of  oil,  which  I  have  purified, 
and  rendered  as  transparent  as  spring  water.  I  was 
offered  i?10,000  for  this  discovery;  but  I  aan  so 
neglected,  and  so  conspired  against,  that  I  am  deter- 
mined it  and  all  my  other  discoveries  shall  die 
with  me.' 

"  I  now  inquired,  whether  he  had  been  alarmed  by 
the  ignorance  of  the  people  in  the  country,  so  as  to 
shut  himself  up  in  so  unusual  a  manner. 

t€ '  No,'  he  replied ;  '  not  on  their  account  wholly. 
They  are  ignorant  and  insolent  enough ;  but  it  was 
to  protect  my  self  against  the  Governments  of  Europe, 
who  are  determined  to  get  possession  of  my  secret 
by  force..  I  have  been,'  he  exclaimed,  •  twice  fired 
at  in  one  day  through  that  window,  and  three  times 
attempted  to  be  poisoned.  They  believed  I  had 
written  a  book  containing  my  secrets,  and  to  get 
possession  of  this  book  has  been  their  object.  To 
baffle  them,  I  burnt  all  that  I  had  ever  written,  and 
I  have  so  guarded  the  windows  with  spring-guns, 
and  have  such  a  collection  of  combustibles  in  the 
range  of  bottles  which  stand  at  your  elbow.,  that  1 
could  destroy  a  whole  regiment  of  soldiers  if  sent 
against  me/  He  then  related,  thait  as  a  further 
protection  he  lived  entirely  in  that  room,  and  per- 
mitted no  one  to  come  into  the  house ;  while  he  had 
locked  up  every  room  except  that  with  patent  pad- 
locks, and  scaled  the  key-holes. 


385 

"  It  would  be  tedious  and  impossible  to  follow  Mr. 
Kellerman  through  a  conversation  of  two  or  three 
hours,  in  which  he  enlarged  upon  the  merits  of  the 
ancient  alchemists,  and  on  the  blunders  and  imper- 
tinent assumptions  of  the  modern  chemists,  with 
whose  writings  and  names  it  is  fair  to  acknowledge 
be  seemed  well  acquainted.  He  quoted  the  autho- 
rities of  Roger  and  Lord  Bacon,  Paracelsus,  Boyle, 
Boerhaave,  Woolfe,  and  others,  to  justify  his  pursuits. 
As  to  the  term  philosopher's  stone,  he  alleged  that 
it  was  a  mere  figure,  to  deceive  the  vulgar.  He  ap- 
peared, also,  to  give  full  credit  to  the  silly  story  about 
Dee's  assistant,  Kelly,  finding  some  of  the  powder 
of  projection  in  the  tomb  of  Roger  Bacon  of  Glaston- 
bury,by  means  of  which,  as  was  said,  Kelly  for  a  length 
of  time  supported  himself  in  princely  splendour. 

"  I  inquired  whether  he  had  discovered  the  blacker 
than  black  of  ApoHonius  Tyraneus ;  and  this,  he 
assured  me,  he  had  effected ;  it  was  itself  the  powder 
of  projection  for  producing  gold. 

"Amidst  all  this  delusion  and  illusion  on  these 
subjects,  Mr.  Kellerman  behaved  in  other  respects 
with  great  propriety  and  politeness ;  and  having  un- 
locked the  door,  he  took  me  to  the  doors  of  some  of 
tbc  other  rooms,  to  show  me  how  safely  they  were 
padlocked;  and  on  taking  leave,  directed  me  in 
my  course  towards  Bedford. 

44  In  a  few  minutes,  T  overtook  a  man ;  and  on 
inquiring  what  the  people  thought  of  Mr.  Kellerman, 
he  told  roe  that  he  had  Kved  with  him  for  seven 
years ;  that  he  was  one  of  eight  assistants  whom  be 
kept  for  the  purpose  of  superintending  his  crucibles, 
—two  at  a  time  relieving  each  other  every  six  hours ; 
that  he  had  exposed  some  preparations  to  intense 


38G 

heat  for  many  months  at  a  time,  but  that  all  except 
one  crucible  had  burst,  and  that  he  called  on  him 
to  pbserve,  that  it  contained  the  true  *  blacker  than 
black.'  The  man  protested,  however,  that  no  gold 
had  ever  been  made,  and  that  no  mercury  had  ever 
been  fixed ;  for  he  was  quite  sure,  that  if  he  had 
made  any  discovery,  he  could  not  have  concealed 
it  from  the  assistants  ;  while,  on  the  contrary,  they 
witnessed  his  severe  disappointment  at  the  termi- 
nation of  his  most  elaborate  experiments. 

"  On  my  telling  the  man  that  I  had  been  in  his 
room,  he  seemed  much  astonished  at  my  boldness; 
for  he  assured  me  that  he  carried  a  loaded  pistol  in 
every  one  of  his  six  waistcoat  pockets.  I  learnt 
also  from  this  man,  that  he  has,  or  had,  considerable 
property  in  Jamaica ;  that  he  has  lived  in  the  pre- 
mises at  Lilley  about  twenty-three  years,  and  during 
fourteen  of  them  pursued  his  alchemical  researches 
with  unremitting  ardour ;  but  for  the  last  few  years 
shut  himself  up  as  a  close  prisoner,  and  lived  in  the 
manner  I  have  described." 

'Raphael. — "  I  thank  our  worthy  friend  and  bro- 
ther in  science,  for  his  recital  from  Sir  Richard  Phil- 
lips's Tour ;  but  must  say  it  was  not  very  gentleman- 
like, nor  very  worthy  a  man  of  such  known  integrity 
as  Sir  Richard  is,  to  print  his  account  of  the  inter- 
view with  Mr.  Kellerman  in  so  unphilosophical  and 
ludicrous  a  style.  Even  supposing  Mr.  K.  to  be  led 
astray  by  his  pursuits,  he  is  certainly  a  gentleman 
of  great  accomplishments,  and  I  have  often  heard  my 
friend,  Mr.  V.,  speak  in  praise  of  his  attainments. 
However..  1  will,  with  the  permission  of  this  Society, 
present  all  here  assembled  with  — 


3fc/ 


3Irft*ttt<0t* 


PLANETS'  DECLINATIONS. 

I,     1  20  S. 

%  23  8  N. 

*   13  21  S. 

©    6  12  N. 

?    14  46  S. 

9     9  54  N. 

>    16  52  S. 

3  c 


3S8 

41  Now  it  will  be  readily  observed,  that  Mr.  K.  is 
oorn  with  Jupiter  in  the  ascendant,  and  the  Moon 
in  mundane  trine  to  Jupiter,  which  certainly  are  for- 
tunate positions,  and  seldom  met  with.  But  you 
will  observe,  also,  that  Mercury,  although  in  Virgo, 
his  own  exaltation,  according  to  the  ancient  astrolo- 
gers, is  in  quartile  to  Herschel,  and  semiquartile  to 
Venus.  Hence  the  cause  why  Mr.  K.  has  drawn 
upon  him  the  observations  of  a  satirist.  It  is  sin- 
gular how  much  Mercury  governs  public  opinion ; 
and  how  much  any  Horoscope  is  detrimental  by  his 
mal- configuration  with  other  orbs. 

It  was  some  years  since  I  calculated  his  Horo- 
scope by  his  own  request,  and  the  following  are  the 
train  of  operating  arcs,  in  his  54th  year,  etc. 

Years.  Months. 

The  ©  to  the  -mundane  o  ot  $  converse  53  2 
The  D  to  the  mundane   quintile  of    % 

direct 53    2 

The  mid-heaven  to  the  mundane  sesqui- 

quadrate  of  the  0  -         -         53    2 

Students  in  the  art  will  wonder  no  longer  at  the  cir- 
cumstance of  his  name  being  treated  in  a  manner  so 
unworthy  of  a  scientific  genius.  And  I  believe  the. 
Sun  in  Virgo  represents  his  visitor,  although  1  have 
never  seen  him.  The  Moon  in  trine  to  both  Saturn 
and  Jupiter,  both  ways  (in  the  zodiac,  and  in  mundo), 
of  course,  gives  a  wonderful  degree  of  thought,  skill, 
and  ingenuity;  and,  no  doubt,  extraordinarychemical 
discoveries. 

I  have  a  letter  of  the  native's  here  before  me, 
wherein  the  following  passage  occurs: — Mr.  K., 
after  stating  the  time  of  his  birth,  &c.  says,  u  You 


389 

must  be  fully  aware  of  the  bounty  of  Providence, 
suffering  me,  as  Aristotle,  in  his  dying  speech, 
expressed  himself,  fcede  hunc  mundane  intraor^,  to 
enter  this  world  at  a  time  when  Mercury  was  in  his 
highest  dignities.  I  have  been  so  gifted  as  to  have  been 
enabled  to  discover  the  whole  hermetic  secret.  I  have 
succeeded  in  the  analysis  of  that  idol  of  mankind, 
gold;  and  I  have  equally  succeeded  in  the  synthesis, 
by  forming  a  small  particle  of  the  metal  by  a  combina- 
tion of  the  three  elementary  principles." 

Captain  B.  "  Mercury  in  Virgo  is  certainly  fortu. 
nate,  as  it  is  a  sign  of  his  own  nature ;  but  his  afflic- 
tions by  aspect  are  so  powerful,  that  there  seems  to 
me  a  doubt,  whether  the  alchemist  will  succeed  in 
acquiring  the  fame  that  usually  attends  such  disco- 
veries. Still,  it  is  my  opinion,  Mr.  K.  must  be  a 
remarkably  erudite  gentleman." 

Raphael.  "  He  is ;  but  you  will  observe  that 
there  are  too  many  clever  characters  still  fated  to 
unaccountable  obstacles,  in  the  pursuit  of  their 
plans,  such  as  Herschel  here  denotes.  It  is  to  be 
feared  the  native  will  always  find  some  unaccount- 
able, unexpected,  undefined  impediments  in  the  way 
of  his  chemical  pursuits.  You  will  also  observe 
Mercury  in  parallel  to  Mars,  denoting  personal 
hazard  by  accidents ;  but  the  Moon  Hyleg  in  trine 
to  Jupiter,  will  always  preserve  from  serious  harm.  In 
the  55th  year  of  his  life,  there  are  these  directions : — 

Years    Month*. 

The  M.  C.  to  the  semisquare  of  %       -  54  4 

The  ©  to  the  mundane  *  of  8  direct  54  6 
The  ©    to  the  mundane   parallel  of    $ 

converse        -        -        -  •  55  0 


390 

The  two  latter  are  very  fortunate ;   but  the  former 
denotes  great  expenditure  or  loss  of  money." 

President.  u  Raphael ;  the  thanks  of  this  Society 
are  due  to  you  as  our  Secretary,  for  your  attention 
this  evening,  while  we  have  attempted,  in  conference 
assembled,  to  decypher  the  language  of  those  bright 
ethereal  monitors,  that  now  roll  high  above  our  heads 
in  all  their  glittering  pomp  of  majestic  beauty; 
speaking  as  it  were  celestial  music  to  the  inquiring 
soul ;  affording  a  glimpse  of  immortality,  by  their 
countless  evolutions ;  and  unveiling  to  our  view  the 
dark  recesses  of  the  future,  by  means  of  that  heaven- 
born  science,  Astrology,  the  doctrine  of  the  stars." 

Temple  of  Urania, 
Die  9  Dec.  1828. 


391 


&&ir$  S*g***&  **♦ 


m» 


TEIGUE  OF  THE  LEE. 

A   MARVELLOUS    NARRATION. 
By  Croftan  Croker,  Esq. 


"  I  can't  stop  in  the  house—I  won't  stop  in  it, 
for  all  the  money  that  is  buried  in  the  old  castle 
of  Garrigrohan.  If  ever  there  was  such  a  thing 
in  the  world  I — to  be  abused  to  my  face  night  and 
day,  and  nobody  to  the  fore  doing  it !  and  then,  if 
I'm  angry,  to  be  laughed  at  with  a  great  roaring 
ho,  ho,  hoi  I  won't  stay  in  the  house  after  to- 
night, il  there  was  not  another  place  in  the  country 
to  put  my  head  under."  This  angry  soliloquy  was 
pronounced  in  the  hall  of  the  old  manor-house  of 
Carrigrohan,  by  John  Sheehan.  John  was  a  new 
servant ;  he  had  been  only  three  days  in  the  house, 
which  had  the  character  of  being  haunted,  and  in 
that  short  space  of  time  he  had  been  abused  and 
laughed  at,  by  a  voice  which  sounded  as  if  a  man 
spoke  with  his  head  in  a  cask ;  nor  could  he  dis- 
cover who  was  the  speaker,  or  from  whence  the 
voice  came.  "  I'll  not  stop  here,"  said  John;  "and 
that  ends  the  matter." 

"  Ho,  ho,  ho !  be  quiet,  John  Sheehan,  or  else 
worse  will  happen  to  you." 

John  instantly  ran  to  the  hall  window,  as  the 


392 

words  were  evidently  spoken  by  a  person  imme- 
diately outside,  but  no  one  was  visible.  He  had 
scarcely  placed  his  face  at  the  pane  of  glass,  when 
he  heard  another  loud  "  Ho,  ho,  ho !"  as  if  behind 
him  in  the  hall ;  as  quick  as  lightning  he  turned  his 
head,  but  no  living  thing  was  to  be  seen. 

"Ho,  ho,  ho,  John!"  shouted  a  voice  that  ap- 
peared to  come  from  the  lawn  before  the  house; 
"do  you  think  you'll  see  Teigue? — oh,  never!  as 
long  as  you  live  !  so  leave  alone  looking  after,  him, 
and  mind  your  business ;  there's  plenty  of  company 
to  dinner  from  Cork  to  be  here  to-day,  and  'tis  time 
you  had  the  cloth  laid." 

"Lord  bless  us!  there's  more  of  it! — I'll  never 
stay  another  day  here,"  repeated  John. 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  and  stay  where  you  are 
quietly,  and  play  no  tricks  on  Mr,  Pratt,  as  you  did 
on  Mr.  Jervois  about  the  spoons." 

John  Sheehan  was  confounded  by  this  address 
from  his  invisible  persecutor,  but  nevertheless  he 
mustered  courage  enough  to  say — €t  Who  are  you  ? 
— come  here,  and  let  me  see  you,  if  you  are  a  man;" 
but  he  received  in  reply  only  a  laugh  of  unearthly 
derision,  which  was  followed  by  a  "  Good  bye-— 
I'll  watch  you  at  dinner,  John  !" 

"  Lord  between  us  and  harm  !  this  beats  all ! — 
I'll  watch  you  at  dinner! — may  be  you  will; — 'tis 
the  broad  day-light,  so  'tis  no  ghost ;  but  this  is  a 
terrible  place,  and  this  is  the  last  day  I'll  stay  in  it. 
How  does  he  know  about  the  spoons  ? — if  he  tells 
it,  I'm  a  ruined  man ! — there  was  no  living  soul 
could  tell  it  to  him  but  Tim  Barrett,  and  he's  far 
enough  off  in  the  wilds  of  Botany  Bay  now,  so  how 
could  he  know  it — 1  can't  tel!  for  the  world  !     But 


393 

what's  that  I  see  there  at  the  corner  of  the  wall  ? — 
'tis  not  a  man ! — oh,  what  a  fool  I  am  !  'tis  only  the 
old  stump  of  a  tree ! — But  this  is  a  shocking  place 
—111  never  stop  in  it,  for  I'll  leave  the  house  to- 
morrow ;  the  very  look  of  it  is  enough  to  frighten 
any  one."  ^ 

The  mansion  had  certainly  an  air  of  desolation  ; 
it  was  situated  in  a  lawn  which  had  nothing  to 
break  its  uniform  level,  save  a  few  tufts  of  nar- 
cissuses, and  a  couple  of  old  trees  coeval  with  the 
building.  The  house  stood  at  a  short  distance  from 
the  road :  it  was  upwards  of  a  century  old,  and  Time 
was  doing  his  work  upon  it;  its  walls  were  weather- 
stained  in  all  colours ;  its  roof  showed  various  white 
patches ;  it  had  no  look  of  comfort ;  all  was  dim  and 
dingy  without,  and  within  there  was  an  air  of  gloom, 
of  departed  and  departing  greatness,  which  harmo- 
nised well  with  the  exterior.  It  required  all  the 
exuberance  of  youth  and  of  gaiety  to  remove  the 
impression,  almost  amounting  to  awe,  with  which 
you  trod  the  huge  square  hall,  paced  along  the  gal* 
lery  which  surrounded  the  hall,  or  explored  the  long 
rambling  passages  below  stairs.  The  ball-room,  as 
the  large  drawing-room  was  called,  and  several 
other  apartments,  were  in  a  state  of  decay ;  the 
walls  were  stained  with  damp;  and  I  remember 
well  the  sensation  of  awe  which  I  felt  creeping 
over  me  when,  boy  as  I  was,  and  full  of  boyish  life, 
and  wild  and  ardent  spirits,  I  descended  to  the 
vaults — all  without  and  within  me  became  chilled 
beneath  their  dampness  and  gloom:  their  extent, 
too,  terrified  me:  nor  could  the  merriment  of  mv 
two  school-fellows,  whose  father,  a  respectable 
clergyman,  rented  the  dwelling  for  a  time,  dispel 


394 

the  feelings  of  a  romantic  imagination,  until  I  once 
again  ascended  to  the  upper  regions. 

John  had  pretty  well  recovered  himself  as  the 
dinner-hour  approached,  and  several  guests  arrived. 
They  were  all  seated  at  table,  and  had  begun  to 
enjoy  the  excellent  repast,  when  a  voice  was  heard 
in  the  lawn. 

"  Ho,  ho,  ho !  Mr.  Pratt,  won't  you  give  poot 
Teigue  some  dinner  ?  ho,  ho !  a  fine  company  you 
have  there,  and  plenty  of  every  thing  that's  good ; 
sure  you  won't  forget  poor  Teigue  V9 

John  dropped  the  glass  he  had  in  his  hand. 

"Who  is  that?"  said  Mr.  Pratt's  brother,  an 
officer  of  the  artillery. 

"That  is  Teigue,"  said  Mr.  Pratt,  laughing, 
"whom  you  must  often  have  heard  me  mention." 

"  And  pray,  Mr.  Pratt,"  inquired  another  gentle- 
man, "  who  is  Teigue  V9 

"  That/'  he  replied,  is  more  than  I  can  tell.  No 
one  has  ever  been  able  to  catch  even  a  glimpse  of 
him.  I  have  been  on  the  watch  for  a  whole  evening 
with  three  of  my  sons,  yet,  although  his  voice  some- 
times sounded  almost  in  my  ear,  I  could  not  see 
him.  I  fancied,  indeed,  that  I  saw  a  man  in  a  white 
frieze  jacket  pass  into  the  door  from  the  garden  to 
the  lawn  ;  but  it  could  be  only  fancy,  for  I  found  the 
door  locked,  while  the  fellow,  whoever  he  is,  was 
laughing  at  our  trouble.  He  visits  us  occasionally, 
and  sometimes  a  long  interval  passes  between  his 
visits,  as  in  the  present  case ;  it  is  now  nearly  two 
years  since  we  heard  that  hollow  voice  outside  the 
window.  He  has  never  done  any  injury  that  we 
know  of;  and  once,  when  he  broke  a  plate,  he  brought 
one  back  exactly  like  it." 


395 


"  It  is  very  extraordinary,"  said  several  of  the 
company. 

"But,"  remarked  a  gentleman  to  young  Mr. 
Pratt,  "  your  father  said  he  broke  a  plate ;  how  did 
he  get  it  without  your  seeing  him  ?" 
•  "  When  he  asks  for  some  dinner,  we  put  it  out- 
side the  window  and  go  away ;  whilst  we  watch  he 
will  not  take  it,  but  no  sooner  have  we  withdrawn 
than  it  is  gone." 

"  How  does  he  know  that  you  are  watching  ?" 

11  That's  more  than  I  can  tell,  but  he  either  knows 
or  suspects.  One  day  my  brothers,  Robert  and  James, 
with  myself,  were  in  our  back  parlour,  which  has  a 
window  into  the  garden,  when  he  came  outside  and 
said,  '  Ho,  ho,  ho !  Master  James,  and  Robert,  and* 
Henry,  give  poor  Teigue  a  glass  of  whiskey/  James 
went  out  of  the  room,  filled  a  glass  with  whiskey 
vinegar,  and  salt,  and  brought  H  to  him.  '  Here, 
Teigue/  said  he,  '  come  for  it  now.'  €  Well;  put  it 
down,  then,  on  the  step  outside  the  window/  This 
was  done,  and  we  stood  looking  at  it.  *  There, 
now,  go  away/  he  shouted.  We  retired,  but  still 
watched  it.  '  Ho,  ho !  you  are  watching  Teigue  ; 
go  out  of  the  room,  now,  or  I  won't  take  it/  We 
went  outside  the  door  and  returned ;  the  glass  was 
gone,  and  a  moment  after  we  heard  him  roaring  and 
cursing  frightfully.  He  took  away  the  glass,  but 
the  next  day  the  glass  was  on  the  stone  step  under 
the  window,  and  there  were  crumbs  of  bread  in  the 
inside,  as  if  he  had  put  it  in  his  pocket :  from  that 
time  he  was  not  heard  till  to-day." 

*Oh,"  said  the  Colonel,  *  1*11  get  a  sight  of  him ; 
you  are  not  used  to  these  things ;  an  old  soldier 
has  the  best  chance ;  and  as  1  shall  finish  my  dinner 

3d 


396 

with  this  wing,  III  be  ready  for  him  when  he  speaks 
next. — Mr.  Bell,  will  you  take  a  glass  of  wine  with 
me?» 

«  Ho,  ho !  Mr.  Bell,"  shouted  Teigue.  «  Ho,  ho  \ 
Mr.  Bell,  you  were  a  quaker  long  ago.  Ho,  ho! 
Mr.  Bell,  you're  a  pretty  boy  ;  a  pretty  quaker  you 
were ;  and  now  you're  no  quaker,  nor  any  thing 
else :  ho,  ho !  Mr.  Bell.  And  there's  Mr.  Parkes 
to  be  sure,  Mr.  Parkes  looks  mighty  fine  to-day, 
with  his  powdered  head,  and  his  grand  silk  stock- 
ings, and  his  bran  new  rakish  red  waistcoat. — And 
there's  Mr.  Cole, — did  you  ever  see  such  a  fellow  ? 
a  pretty  company  you've  brought  together,  Mr. 
Pratt :  kiln-dried  quakers,  butter-buying  buckeens 
from  Mallow-lane,  and  a  drinking  exciseman  from 
the  Coal-quay,  to  meet  the  great  thundering  artil- 
lery-general that  is  come  out  of  the  Indies,  and  is 
the  biggest  dust  of  them  all/' 

"  You  scoundrel  I*  exclaimed  thq  Colonel ;  "  VI 
make  you  show  yourself;"  and  snatching  up  his 
sword  from  a  corner  of  the  room,  he  sprang  out  of 
the  window  upon  the  lawn.  In  a  moment,  a  shout 
of  laughter,  so  hollow,  so  unlike  any  human  sound, 
made  him  stop,  as  well  as  Mr.  Bell,  who>  with  a 
huge  oak  stick,  was  close  at  the  CokureTs  heels ; 
others  of  the  party  followed  on  the  lawn,  and  the 
remainder  rose  and  went  to  the  windows.  "  Come 
on,  Colonel,"  said  Mr.  Bell;  "let  u&  catch  this  im- 
pudent rascal." 

"Ho,  ho!  Mr.  Bell,  here  I  am — here's  Teigue 
— why  don't  you  catch  him? — Ho,  ho!  Colonel 
Pratt,  what  a  pretty  soldier  you  are  to  draw  your 
sword  upon  poor  Teigue,  that  never  did  any  body 
harm." 


397 

"  Let  us  see  your  face,  you  scoundrel/'  said  the 
Colonel. 

"  Ho,  ho,  ho ! — look  at  me — look  at  me  :  do  you 
see  the  wind,  Colonel  Pratt  ? — you'll  see  Teigue  as 
soon ;  so  go  in  and  finish  your  dinner/' 

"  If  you're  upon  the  earth  I'll  find  you,  you  Til- 
Iain  f"  said  the  Colonel,  whilst  the  same  unearthly 
shout  of  derision  seemed  to  come  from  behind  an 
angle  of  the  building.  "  He's  round  that  corner/ 
said  Mr.  Bell — "  run,  run." 

They  followed  the  sound,  which  was  continued 
at  intervals  along  the  garden  wall,  but  could  dis- 
cover no  human  being ;  at  last  both  stopped  to  draw 
breath,  and  in  an  instant,  almost  at  their  ears, 
sounded  the  shout. 

"  Ho,  ho,  ho !  Colonel  Pratt,  do  you  see  Teigue 
now? — do  you  hear  him! — Ho,  ho,  ho!  you're  a 
fine  Colonel  to  follow  the  wind/' 

u  Not  that  way,  Mr.  Bell — not  that  way ;  come 
here,"  said  the  Colonel. 

"  Ho,  ho,  ho !  what  a  fool  you  are !  do  you  think 
Teigue  is  going  to  show  himself  to  you  in  the  field, 
there  ?  But,  Colonel,  follow  me  if  you  can  : — you  a 
soldier ! — ho,  ho,  ho !"  The  Colonel  was  enraged — 
he  followed  the  voice  over  hedge  and  ditch,  alter- 
nately laughed  at  and  taunted  by  the  unseen  object 
of  his  pursuit — (Mr.  Bell,  who  was  heavy,  was  soon 
thrown  out),  until  at  length,  after  being  led  a  weary 
chase,  he  found  himself  at  the  top  of  the  cliff,  over 
that  part  of  the  river  Lee,  which,  from  its  great 
depth,  and  the  blackness  of  its  water,  has  received 
the  name  of  Hell-hole.  Here,  on  the  edge  of  the 
cliff1,  stood  the  Colonel,  out  of  breath,  and  mopping 


398 

his  forehead  with  his  handkerchief,  while  the  voice, 
which  seemed  close  at  his  feet,  exclaimed — "  Now, 
Colonel  Pratt — now,  if  you're  a  soldier,  here's  a  leap 
for  you  ; — now  look  at  Teigue — why  don't  you  look 
at  him  ? — Ho,  ho,  ho !  Come  along ;  you're  warm, 
I'm  sure,  Colonel  Pratt,  so  come  in  and  cool  your- 
self; Teigue  is  going  to  have  a  swim  !"  The  voice 
seemed  as  descending  amongst  the  trailing  ivy  and 
brushwood  which  clothes  this  picturesque  cliff 
nearly  from  top  to  bottom,  yet  it  was  impossible 
that  any  human  being  could  have  found  footing. 
"  Now,  Colonel,  have  you  courage  to  take  the  leap? 
— Ho,  ho,  ho  !  what  a  pretty  soldier  you  are.  Good 
bye — I'll  see  you  again  in  ten  minutes  above,  at  the 
house — look  at  your  watch,  Colonel :  there's  a  dive 
for  you ;"  and  a  heavy  plunge  into  the  water  was 
heard.  The  Colonel  stood  still,  but  no  sound  fol- 
lowed, and  he  walked  slowly  back  to  the  house,  not 
quite  half  a  mile  from  the  Crag." 

"Well,  did  you  see  Teigue?"  said  his  brother, 
whilst  his  nephews,  scarcely  able  to  smother  their 
laughter,  stood  by.—"  Give  me  some  wine,"  said 
the  Colonel.  "  I  never  was  led  such  a  dance  in  my 
life  :  the  fellow  carried  me  all  round  and  round,  till 
he  brought  me  to  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  and  then 
down  he  went  into  Hell-hole,  telling  me  he'd  be 
here  in  ten  minutes :  'tis  more  than  that  now,  but 
he's  not  come." 

"Ho,  ho,  ho!  Colonel,  isn't  he  here?— Teigue 
never  told  a  lie  in  his  life :  but,  Mr.  Pratt,  give  me 
a  drink  and  my  dinner,  and  then  good  night  to  you 
all,  for  I'm  tired  ;  and  that's  the  Colonel's  doing/' 
A  plate  of  food  was  ordered  ;  it  was  placed  by  John, 


399 

with  fear  and  trembling,  on  the  lawn  under  the 
window.  Every  one  kept  on  the  watch,  and  the 
plate  remained  undisturbed  for  some  time. 

"  Ah !  Mr.  Pratt,  will  you  starve  poor  Teigue  ? 
Make  every  one  go  away  from  the  windows,  and 
master  Henry  out  of  the  tree,  and  master  Richard 
off  the  garden  wall/' 

The  eyes  of  the  company  were  turned  to  the  tree 
and  the  garden  wall ;  the  two  boys'  attention  was 
occupied  in  getting  down ;  the  visitors  were  looking 
at  them  ;  and  "  Ho,  ho,  ho  I — good  luck  to  you,  Mr. 
Pratt!  'tis  a  good  dinner,  and  there's  the  plate, 
ladies  and  gentlemen — good-bye  to  you,  Colonel ! — 
good-bye,  Mr.  Bell ! — good-bye  to  you  all" — 
brought  the  attention  back,  when  they  saw  the 
empty  plate  lying  on  the  grass ;  and  Teigue's  voice 
was  heard  no  more  for  that  evening.  Many  visits 
were  afterwards  paid  by  Teigue ;  but  never  was  he 
seen,  nor  was  any  discovery  ever  made  of  his  aer- 
ion  or  character. 


The  pranks  of  Teigue  resemble  those  related  by 
Oervase  of  Tilbury  of  the  spirit  called  Follet,  which  he 
describes  as  inhabiting  the  houses  of  ignorant  rustics, 
and  whose  exorcisms  fail  in  banishing  him.  He  says 
of  the  Folletos : 

"  Verba  utique  humano  more  audiuntur  et  effigies 
non  comparent.  De  istis  pleraque  miracula  niemini 
me  in  vita  abbreviata  et  miraculis  btatisximi  Antonii 
reperisse." — Otia  Imperalia,  p.  897. 

Their  voices  may  be  heard  in  human  fashion,  but 
their  form  is  not  visible.    I  remember  to  have  read 


400 

a  great  many  marvels  about  them  in  the  short  life 
and  miracles  of  the  blessed  Anthony. 

The  evening  previous  to  sending  this  note  to  press, 
it  was  the  writer's  good  fortune  to  meet  Major  Percy 
Pratt,  son  of  the  Colonel  (afterwards  General)  Pratt 
mentioned  in  the  tale,  who  related  to  Sir  William 
Beetham,  and  repeated  to  him,  all  the  particulars  of 
this  strange  story.  Several  respectable  persons  in 
the  south  of  Ireland  have  favoured  him  with  accounts 
of  Teigue,  but  they  are  so  nearly  similar  that  it  be- 
comes unnecessary  to  give  them.  One  of  these 
accounts,  however,  received  from  Mr,  Newenhatn 
de  la  Cour,  contains  some  few  circumstances  which 
have  been  omitted  in  the  foregoing  relation : — 

"  I  never  heard,"  writes  Mr.  de  la  Cour,  "  of  a 
more  familiar  goblin  than  Teigue.  His  visit  gene- 
rally commenced  with  a  civil  salutation  to  the 
master  of  the  house,  which  was  quickly  followed 
by  an  application  for  a  glass  of  whiskey j  but  no 
human  creature  could  be  seen  or  found  in  the 
quarter  from  whence  the  voice  proceeded.  These 
visits  were  usually  repeated  once  a  week ;  some- 
times, however,  a  month  or  more  elapsed  between 
them.  If  any  friend  came  to  dine  or  to  stay  at  the 
house  for  a  few  days,  Teigue  was  sure  to  be  heard 
in  the  evening  accosting  them  in  a  very  courteous 
manner,  inquiring  after  the  different  members  o 
their  family,  and  often  mentioning  domestic  occur- 
rences with  a  surprising  intimacy.  If  a  stranger 
happened  to  excel  in  music,  this  could  not  escape 
the  penetration  of  Teigue,  who  seemed  to  be  familiar 
with  every  person's  acquirements  and  habits ;  and 
he  invariably  requested  the  musician  to  play  or  sing. 
A  young  lady  from  Youghall  was  once  called  upon 


401 

by  Teigue  to  favour  him  with  a  tone :  she  sat  down 
to  the  pianoforte  all  fear  and  trembling.  When  she 
had  concluded,  Teigue  applauded  her  performance, 
and  said,  in  return,  he  would  treat  her  to  a  song  to 
the  best  of  his  ability.  He  accordingly  sung,  with 
a  most  tremendous  voice, '  My  name  is  Teigue,  and 
I  lives  in  state  j*  a  composition  well  known  in  the 
south  of  Ireland. 

"Several  cleverly  concerted  plans  have  been 
formed  for  the  discovery  of  this  strange  being,  yet 
they  all  failed  of  their  object.  Two  different  and 
contradictory  opinions  prevail  respecting  Teigue: 
some  people  report  him  to  be  a  giant,  others  a 
dwarf;  the  former  opinion  is  founded  on  the  follow- 
ing circumstance : — Amongst  the  ingenious  methods 
devised  for  deciding  whether  the  voice  might  be  that 
of  a  mortal  man  or  a  goblin,  was  the  plan  of  strewing 
carefully  some  fine  ashes  at  twilight  before  the 
windows.  That  night  Teigue  was  unusually  noisy 
without;  and  the  next  morning  early,  when  the 
place  was  inspected,  the  print  of  one  foot  only,  of 
superhuman  dimensions,  was  found.  The  notion  of 
his  being  a  dwarf  rests  on  no  less  an  authority  than 
Teigue  himself.  He  frequently  styled  himself 
Teigueen,  or  little  Teigue ;  yet  this  diminutive  may 
be  nothing  more  than  a  pet  name.  But  on  one 
occasion,  when  some  guests  expressed  their  sur- 
prise that  master  Teigue  had  never  been  caught, 
this  curious  being  replied,  '  Tis  to  no  use  at  all,  gen- 
tlemen, you're  thinking  of  catching  poor  Teigueen, 
for  he  is  no  bigger  than  your  thumb !'  All  those 
who  have  heard  him  speak  agree  in  this,  that  the 
sound  of  his  voice  was  not  in  the  least  like  that  of 
ordinary  mortals;    it  resembled,  they  said,  that 


402 

hollow  hoarse  kind  of  voice  emitted  by  a  man  speak- 
ing with  his  head  (as  a  gallant  English  officer  has 
described  it)  inclosed  in  an  empty  cask." 

Connected  with  the  belief  of  supernatural  voices, 
a  common  superstitious  notion  may  be  worth  men- 
tioning here. — It  is  popularly  believed  in  Ireland 
and  possibly  in  other  countries,  that  when  a  friend 
or  relative  dies,  a  warning  voice  is  heard,  and  the 
greater  the  space  between  the  parties  the  more  cer- 
tain the  sound.  The  following  is  an  attempt  at 
translating  an  Irish  song  founded  on  this  idea,  which 
fcs  sung  to  a  singularly  wild  and  melancholy  air  :— 

A  low  sound  of  song  from  the  distance  I  hear, 
In  the  silence  of  night,  breathing  sad  on  my  ear ! 
Whence  comes  it  ?  I  know  not — unearthly  the  note, 
And  unearthly  the  tones  through  the  air  a*  they  float ; 
Yet  it  sounds  like  the  lay  that  my  mother  once  sung, 
As  o'er  her  first-born  in  his  cradle  she  hung. 

Long  parted  from  her,  far  away  from  her  home, 
'Mong  people  that  speak  not  her  language  I  roam : 
Is  it  she  that  sends  over  the  billowy  sea 
This  low-breathing  murmur  of  sadness  to  me  ? 
What  gives  it  the  power  thus  to  shake  me  with  dread  ? 
Doer  it  say,  that  sad  voice,  that  my  mother  is  dead  ? 


401 


THE  ASTROLOGER 

AT    THE 

COURT    OF    COMMON    PLEAS. 

It  was  on  the  19th  day  of  February,  1829,  that 
the  Astrologer  was  subpoenaed  to  attend  as  a  witness 
in  the  Court  held  at  Westminster  Hall,  in  order  to 
avouch  for  the  truth  of  a  consultation,  wherein  his 
advice  had  been  given,  and  which  related  to  an  act 
of  bankruptcy. 

The  morning  was  beautiful ;  the  mildness  of  the 
weather,  so  unusual  in  the  month  of  February 
seemed  to  announce  the  cheering  presence  of  the 
vernal  equinox,  rather  than  the  conclusion  of  the 
wintry  solstice.    The  sun  arose  that  morning  with 
resplendent  beams,  cheering  the  inhabitants  of  the 
vast  and  crowded  metropolis  with  his  gladdening 
presence;   and  as  the  Astrologer  bent  his  path 
through  the  royal  parks,  in  his  road  to  Westminster, 
he  found  those  numerous  walks,  which,  only  a  few 
weeks  before,  in  consequence  of  the  bleakness  of 
the  atmosphere,  were  deserted  by  all  but  the  sad 
subjects  of  poverty;  were  now  thronged  with  groups 
of  smiling  pedestrians,  each  apparently  eager  to  in- 
hale the  refreshing  breezes  that  filled  the  air,  and 
gave  promise  of  health  and  hilarity.     The  lofty 
trees  in  St.  James's  Park  were  also  tenanted  by 
many  feathered  inhabitants  of  the  aerial  regions ; 
and  as  these  little  songsters  hopped  blithesome  from 

ranch  to  branch,  and  from  tree   to  tree,   their 

3  £ 


402 

innocent  and  joyful  twittering  gave  an  air  of  rurality 
to  the  scene,  which  for  a  moment  seemed  to  shut 
out  the  sense  of  proximity  to  the  stormy  bustle  and 
din  of  that  noisy  circle  within  whose  limits  lay  the 
Astrologer's  sojourning. 

The  "  Court  of  Common  Pleas"  is  held  in  the 
precincts  of,  and  opens  into,  Westminster  Hall ;  a 
place  renowned  in  English  history  for  historical  re- 
collections, some  of  which  were  of  a  sorrowful 
nature,  others  more  bright,  joyous,  gorgeous,  and 
remarkable.  This  ancient  structure  is  believed  to 
have  been  erected  in  the  eleventh  century,  by  the 
renowned  William  Rufus;  who,  during  his  absence 
in  Normandy,  gave  orders  for  its  erection;  and, 
upon  his  return,  tradition  relates,  that  notwith- 
standing its  vast  area  (which  is  stated  to  be  four- 
tenths  of  an  acre  in  admeasurement),  he  affected 
disappointment  at  the  smallness  of  its  dimensions, 
as  being  not  half  big  enough,  and  fitter  for  his  bed- 
chamber than  the  public  hall  of  his  palace,  with 
which  it  was  connected  ? 

In  this  hall  were  held  the  rude  and  boisterous, 
the  barbarously  splendid  banquets,  the  "  Royal 
Feastings"  of  ancient  monarchs.  Here  were  held 
the  national  councils,  and  the  courts  of  justice;  and 
here  were  probably  passed  many  of  those  laws  of 
which  the  British  nation  are  so  proud;  and  latterly, 
here  too  was  held  the  magnificent,  the  gorgeous 
coronation  festival  of  our  beloved  monarch,  George 
the  Fourth.  And  as  the  eye  wandered  around  the 
vast  edifice,  and  caught  the  features  of  its  noble 
architecture,  imagination  would  recal  the  unrivalled 
splendours  of  the  royal  banquet;  whereat  a  King  pre- 
sided, the  most  potent  in  modern,  if  not  in  ancient 


403 

history ;  at  whose  inauguration  all  the  fairy  illu- 
sions of  pearls  and  diamonds,  gold  and  gems,  and 
the  riebes  of  ihe  universe,  the  noble  chivalry  of  the 
armed  combat,  and  the  homage  of  thousands,  were 
talind  to  the  view  with  all  the  quickness  and 
passing  pomp  of  an  Eastern  enehantment  In 
addition  to  which*  the  knowledge  that  a  Parlia- 
ment was  then  daily  sitting  in  the  adjoining  walls, 
revolving  wp^n  the  question  of  Catholic  Ascen- 
dancy, which  involved  the  probable  destiny  of 
thousands, — this,  also,,  contributed  to  give  the 
mtauat  i*teip«t  to  the  spot  where  the  Astrologer 
was  summoned- 

Groups  of  both  sexes,  of  all  ages,  and  of  almost 
every  conditio*  in  life,  wecc,  previous  to  the  open- 
ing of  the  various  Comets,  parading  the  vast  space 
of  Westminster  Hall ;  »  whose  anxious  counte- 
nances might  be  viewed  the  intense  feelings,  and 
sad  forebodings,  which  filled  their  breasts,  as  each 
revolved  upon  .the  probable  fate  of  their  law  trials ; 
forming  a  strange  contrast  to  Che  wonted  loneliness 
of  the  ancient  edifice,  whose  vast  area,  with  its 
noble  roof  decorated  with  the  rich  massive  orna- 
ments of  Gothic  granfepr,  seemed  to  the  mind's 
eye  frowning  in  mockery  at  the  petty  and  trifling 
toils  of  man's  mortal  existence.  And  as  the  Astro- 
loger gazed  upon  the  noble  pile  before  him,  which 
for  ages  had  stood  unijtytt&d  by  time,  and  seemed 
built  to  endure  for  centuries  $*t  *P  come,  he  could 
not  help  contrasting  therewith  the  shortness  of 
human  life,  m and  moralizing  upon  its  brevity,  its 
troubles,  and  its  mia&rUwes. 

The  trial  commenced  at  10  h.  40  m.  a.m.  ;  at 
which  time  my  astrological  readers,  by  referring  to 


404 

the  horoscope  of  that  hour  and  minute,  will  per- 
ceive that  the  thirteenth  degree  of  Gemini  arose  in 
the  angle  of  the  East.  The  scheme  of  heaven  at 
that  time  is  in  many  respects  worthy  the  student's 
attention.  As  the  plaintiffs  suit  was  first  named, 
the  planet  Jupiter  was  exactly  setting  on  the  cusf 
of  the  western  angle  of  the  celestial  hemisphere, — 
strong,  potent,  and  powerful,  in  house  and  sign ; 
but  as  this  planet  represented  the  house  of  legal 
opposition,  and  the  strength  of  the  law,  it  was,  con- 
sequently, inimical  to  the  defendant's  cause  in  a 
peculiar  degree.  Mercury,  the  lord  of  the  first 
house,  was  also  afflicted  in  Pisces  ;  his  fall,  and  the 
moon  in  opposition  to  him  from  Virgo — sad  and 
true  presages  of  the  issue  which  followed. 

The  trial  proceeded — the  Judge  occupied  the 
Bench — the  jury  were  sworn — and  the  nature  of  the 
eause  proclaimed.  At  this  time  the  Court  pre- 
sented a  peculiar  aspect  of  awe  and  solemnity. 
And  as  the  Astrologer  gazed  around  upon  the 
assuming  gravity  of  the  barristers,  "  enrobed  with 
wig  and  gown,"  with  the  cool  but  venerable  counte- 
nance of  the  Chief  Justice,  and  compared  there- 
with the  anxious  faces  of  the  parties  at  issue;  he 
was  no  longer  at  a  loss  to  discover  why  so  many 
hearts  are  found  to  quail  and  quiver  when  called 
before  the  stern  imposing  appearance,  the  dignified 
spectacle,  of  an  English  court  of  judicature;  espe- 
cially when  their  personal  feelings  are  doomed  to 
be  tried  by  such  a  severe  test,  as  the  ordeal  of  the 
law  imposes. 

Mercury,  the  lord  of  the  ascendant,  had  now 
attained  the  cusp  of  the  eleventh  house,  while  the 
nineteenth  degree  of  Gemini  arose  as  the  Counsel 


405 

began  to  plead  for  the  plaintiff.  Upon  his  an- 
nouncing to  the  assembly,  that  a  witness  of  so 
extraordinary  a  character  as  an  Astrologer  would 
be  called  forth  that  day,  the  curiosity  of  the  Court 
became  excited  to  an  unusual  degree ;  and  the 
galleries  being  crowded  with  females  of  elegance, 
rank,  and  fashion,  gare  evidence  of  the  singula, 
interest  taken  in  the  Astrologer's  writings,  even  by 
the  usually  gay  and  thoughtless  votaries  of  the 
haul  ton ;  since  only  a  few  private  whispers,  the 
day  previous  to  the  trial,  had  given  rise  to  such  an 
unusual  assemblage  of  fashionable  visitants  (who, 
perhaps,  on  no  other  occasion  would  have  been 
seen  near  the  precincts  of  the  Hall),  solely  to 
witness  the  expected  appearance  of  "  Raphael"  in 
public. 

'  These  curious  visitants  were,  however,  doomed 
to  disappointment;  for  although  the  Counsel  for  the 
plaintiff  had  declared  his  intention  to  call  forth  the 
Astrologer,  he  contented  himself  by  reading  ex- 
tracts from  the  horoscope  of  the  defendant's  fete, 
which  Raphael  had  cast ;  and,  however  strange  it 
may  appear  to  those  who  affect  to  deny  the  sublime 
science  of  the  stars,  it  is  an  incontrovertible  fact, 
that  the  Counsellor  repeatedly  complimented  the 
Astrologer  upon  "  the  sound  judgment  and  erudi 
tion  displayed  in  the  calculation,"  which,  he  de- 
clared, contained  "  advice  worthy  of  the  most  pro- 
found attention,99  although  he  denied  the  premises 
on  which  it  was  founded.*    A  proof  how  much  the 

*  For  proof  of  this,  see  the  crcning  journals  of  Feb.  19th, 
especially  tbe  "  Globe  and  Traveller?  as  also  the  morning  journals 
of  the  20th,  of  which  the  "  Morning  AdnerttBer"  contains  the  best 
report — The  latter  remarks — "He    (tho  Astrologer)  found  the 


4(H) 

belief  in  celestial  influences  is  advanced  by  in- 
vestigation, even  of  the  most  rigid  ki&d.  For 
it  must  be  remembered,  the  Astrologer  was  here 
an  unwilling  witness;  and  as  such,  being  forced 
to  attend  the  Court,  could  hardly  have  expected 
this  lenient  view  of  his  favourite  science, 
which  many  too  hastily  condemn;  but  (as  these 
proceedings  prove  it  to  be)  without  argument 
or  reason,  or  even  allowing  it  a  fair  chance  of 
defence, 

A  desultory  conversation,  amongst  the  judge, 
lawyers,  and  advocates,  mixed  with  discussions  of 
some  points  of  law,  succeeded  to  the  astrological 
intelligence ;  and  precisely  as  Saturn,  the  gloomy 
forerunner  of  mortal  woe,  the  most  unfortunate  of 
the  whole  planetary  host,  touched  the  cusp  of  the 
second  celestial  house,  the  plaintiff  obtained  a 
verdict  for  the  debt  and  costs  ! 

The  defendant,  who  last  the  action,  was,  it  ap- 
pears, a  free  and  too  confiding  man ;  one  who, 
there  is  every  reason  to  believe,  was,  in  a  measure, 
the  victim  of  treacherous  schemes  amongst  his 
dependents ;  since  it  was  proved  in  Court  that 
his  own  servant  had  openly  defrauded  him.  The 
law,  however,  was  too  explicit  upon  the  point  that 
involved  his  wishes,  to  allow  of  a  rerdict  in  his 


planets  in  conjunction,  therefore  he  advised  the  bankrupt  not  to  go 
to  law  ;  he  advised  him  to  threaten  Chancery,  but  by  all  means  to 
avoid  that  'gulph  of  vexation,  ruin,  and  delaj.' "  The  "-GW*" 
states, — "  He,  the  learned  Counsel,  held  in  his  hand  the  horoscope, 
with  all  the  bankrupt's  misfortunes  clearly  foreshown  ;*'  and  adds, 
"  The  persons  in  Court  appeared  very  much  disappointed  that  the 
Astrologer  had  not  been  called,  the  cause  having  gone  off  on  • 
point  prior  to  that  which  he  was  to  prove  coming'  on." 


407 

favour;  and  he  retired  from  Court  accompanied 
by  the  undisguised  emotions  of  numerous  friends, 
amongst  whom,  afeWtagk  iMognito,  and  free  from 
the  idle  gaze  of  curiosity,  none  more  truly  sympa- 
in  his  misfortunes,  than 

RAPHAEL, 

"  The  Astrologer  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  r 


Qfyt  ISKiUfy  of  4£»e 


A  lady  has  sent  the  Editor  an  account  of  the 
dungeon  in  which  the  Duchess  of  Gloucester  was 
confined,  for  conspiring  to  take  the  life  of  King 
Henry  by  witchcraft  (vide  the  historical  tale,  page  156). 
Our  fair  correspondent  writes, — 

"  I  hate,  retraced  every  step  of  the  miserable 
dungeon  in  Peel  Castle,  Isle  of  Man,  occupied  by 
Um  Duchess  (of  Gloucester;  she  might  with  truth 
aay— *  It  suits  the  gloomy  temper  of  my  soul !' 
She  must  have  had  an  admirable  constitution  to 
have  lingered  there  sixteen  years!  I  caught  a 
violent  Cold  from  remaining  in  it  only  twenty 
minutes*  There  is  a  strong  spring  erf  water  in  it ; 
and  the  temperature  strikes  you  like  an  ice-house 
when  you  enter  it.  I  wore  out  a  new  pair  of  gloves 
with  the  ruggedness  of  the  walls*  Wicked  as  she 
was,  it  was  almost  too  bad  a  place  for  a  human 
being  to  be  immured  in  such  an  horrid  abyss." 


408 


i$tO&VA|)f)0 


OF 


FAMOUS  ASTROLOGERS. 


LIFE   OF    HENRY   CORNELIUS   AGRIPPA. 


Henry  Cornelius  Agrippa,  a  learned  philo- 
sopher and  astrologer,  was  born  at  Cologne,  on  the 
14th  of  September,  1486,  and  descended  from  a  noble 
and  ancient  family  of  Neltesheim,  in  Belgia;  desiring 
to  walk  in  the  steps  of  his  ancestors,  who  for  many 
generations  had  been  employed  by  the  princes  of 
the  house  of  Austria,  he  entered  early  in  the  service 
of  the  Emperor  Maximilian.  He  had  at  first  the 
employ  of  secretary ;  but  as  he  was  equally  quali- 
fied for  the  sword  and  the  pen,  he  afterwards  turned 
soldier,  and  served  the  Emperor  seven  years  in  his 
Italian  army.  He  signalized  himself  on  several 
occasions,  and  as  a  reward  of  his  brave  actions,  he 
was  created  knight  in  the  field.  He  wished  to  add 
the  academical  honours  to  the  military ;  he  there- 
fore commenced  the  study  of  law  and  physic. 

He  was  a  man  possessed  of  a  very  wonderful 
genius,  and  from  his  youth  applied  himself  to 
learning ;  and  by  his  great  natural  talents,  he  ob- 
tained an  extensive  knowledge  of  almost  all  arts 
and  sciences,  and  was  early  engaged  in  the  search 


409 

of  the  mysteries  of  nature.  The  prodigious  compass 
of  his  knowledge  astonished  every  one  who  con* 
versed  with  him.  He  carefully  informed  himself  of 
every  science,  and  of  course  was  profound  in  the 
Rosycrusian  and  Alchemical  arcanas.  lie  was  cele- 
brated throughout  Europe,  most  of  the  Courts  of 
which  he  visited.  The  history  of  his  life,  as  recorded 
by  Bayle,  is  curious  and  interesting: — sometimes,  in 
all  the  pride  of  literature,  he  was  disputing  in  schools 
and  universities  ;  and  other  times,  in  courts  and 
camps ;  then,  in  the  shops  of  projecting  mechanics, 
and  in  the  laboratory  of  hermetic  philosophers. 

The  prejudices  of  the  times  in  which  he  lived 
often  brought  him  into  trouble;  and  he  was  some* 
times  cited  before  the  civil  tribunal  for  a  sorcerer, 
and  his  poor  dog  was  even  dreaded  as  an  evil  demon. 
At  other  times,  it  is  recorded,  that  he  practised 
"Magic,  Necromancy,  and  similar  arts." — Although 
it  was,  probably,  his  surprising  skill  in  Judicial 
Astrology,  that  caused  these  absurd  rumours,  since 
we  find  he  was  daily  consulted  by,  and  cast  the 
horoscopes  of,  kings,  princes,  and  warriors. 
He  was  here  in  England  in  1510,  and  did  wonders 
in  the  astrological  art ;  and  in  1529,  so  great  was  his 
reputation  as  a  prophet,  that  having  cast  the  nati- 
vity of  Henry  VIII. ,  and  predicted  many  surprising 
things  (all  of  which  came  to  pass)  to  the  knights  and 
retinue  of  the  Court,  the  King  of  England  gave  him 
an  invitation  to  settle  here,  and  offered  him  a  mag- 
nificent pension,  to  become  the  M  Astrologer  Royal." 
Which  invitation,  however,  he  thought  proper  to  de- 
cline ;  most  likely,  on  account  of  his  knowledge,  by 
means  of  his  scientific  skill,  of  Henry's  real  character. 

He  practised  astrology  at  most  of  the  Courts  of 

3  F 


410 

Europe;  and  many  marvellous  legends  are  on  re- 
cord of  his  profound  knowledge  of  the  stars.  He 
is  even  said  to  have  predicted  the  very  day  and 
hour  of  the  death  of  a  highly  celebrated  hero  of 
those  times.  However,  be  it  as  it  will,  he  was  the 
first  mathematician  of  the  age.  He  died  in  1535. 
Some  of  his  works  evince  admirable  skill,  and  are 
filled  with  proofs  of  his  extraordinary  genius.  The 
most  celebrated  of  these,  in  Latin,  is  his  treatise  of 
"  Occult  Philosophy;"  a  rare  work,  and  calculated 
to  hand  this  author's  name  down  to  the  latest 
posterity. 

A  FAMOUS  FRENCH  ASTROLOGER. 

John  Baptist  Morinus,  a  celebrated  French 
astrologer,  often  mentioned  by  English  writers,  was 
a  native  of  Villa  Franca,  and  received  his  diploma 
for  the  practice  of  physic,  at  Avignon,  in  the  Popes 
territories,  in  1614.  His  ardent  desire  to  under- 
stand the  progress  and  secret  laws  of  nature,  led 
him  into  many  dangers,  many  of  which  had  nearly 
proved  fatal. 

rVhile  he  was  in  Hungary,  he  met  with  a  peasant, 
who,  like  our  countryman,  Jedediah  Buxton,  had 
made  great  progress  in  numerical  calculations,  with- 
out knowing  how  to  make  a  figure ;  and  applying 
these  calculations  to  the  revolutions  of  the  planets 
and  signs,  inspired  Morinus  with  such  a  taste  for 
astrological  calculations,  that  upon  his  return  to 
Paris,  he  gave  himself  entirely  up  to  the  siderial 
art.  Accordingly,  in  1617,  finding  by  his  calcula- 
tions, that  his  friend  and  neighbour  the  Bishop  of 
Boulogne,  would  soon  be  imprisoned,  he  went  and 


411 


mformed  him ;  bat  that  prelate,  though  an  artist 
also,  laughed  at  his  prediction ;  the  event,  however, 
proved  the  truth  of  Morinus'  art  in  a  short  time. 
The  Duke  of  Luxemburg!),  brother  to  the  Con- 
stable de  Luines,  took  him  under  his  protection, 
where  he  remained  for  nearly  nine  years :  but  fore- 
telling to  that  nobleman  a  fever,  which  threatened 
him  within  two  years'  time,  he  was  discarded,  and 
the  Duke  died  within,  the  time  predicted. 

As  a  lasting  proof  how  highly  his  astrological 
abilities  were  accounted  in  those  times,  it  may  be 
stated,  that  Cardinal  Mazarine  consulted  him,  and 
Cardinal  Richlieu  granted  him  a  pension  of  two 
thousand  livres,  and  procured  him  the  mathema- 
tical chair  in  the  Royal  College.  The  Count  de 
Chavigny,  Secretary  of  State,  regulated  all  his  mo- 
tions by  Morinus'  advice ;  who,  at  that  time,  gained 
great  credit  by  foretelling  the  death  of  the  great 
Gustavus  Adolphus ;  and  whose  daughter,  the 
famous  Christina,  was  a  great  admirer  and  bene- 
factress of  his. 

Among  other  authenticated  statements  of  his 
wonderful  skill  in  physiognomy  and  genethliacal 
astrology,  it  is  upon  record,  that  he  foresaw  almost 
every  state  occurrence  of  importance  that  after- 
wards befel  the  nation.  Upon  sight  of  a  portrait 
of  the  famous  Cinq  Mars  (who  was  beheaded  for 
treason)  before  he  knew  who  he  was,  he  declared 
he  would  lose  his  head.  Within  sixteen  days'  time, 
he  hit  the  event  of  the  Constable  Lesdiguin's 
death ;  and  in  six,  that  of  Lewis  XIII.,  by  inspec- 
tion of  their  nativities.  He  was  the  most  consi- 
derable writer  upon  mathematical  subjects  in  his 
time,  as  his  disputes  with  the  celebrated  Gassen- 


412 

dus,  upon  the  subject  of  the  Copernican  System, 
testify.  Cardinal  Richlieu  was  his  friend  to  his 
death,  which  happened  in  1656,  aged  73  years. 
All  his  works,  which  mostly  consist  of  small, 
curious  tracts,  are  extremely  rare,  and  indeed,  now 
difficult  to  be  procured  at  any  price.  His  princi- 
pal piece  is  his  "  Astrologica  Gallica,"  in  Latin, 
4to.,  Paris,  1657,  which  is  a  most  learned  work,  but 
little  known,  it  is  true,  in  England,  yet  well  worthy 
the  astrological  student's  attention.  However, 
Lilly,  Gad  bury,  and  their  numerous  followers, 
have  very  much  availed  themselves  of  his  siderial 
labours. 

A   NEAPOLITAN   ASTROLOGER. 

Thomas  Campanella  was  a  native  of  Stilo,  in 
Calabria,  and  at  a  very  early  age  became  a  Do- 
minican. His  taste  for  singularity,  induced  him  to 
oppose  in  a  public  dispute,  a  mataphysical  syl- 
logist;  who,  out  of  envy  upon  being  overcome  by  a 
youth,  insidiously  accused  him,  to  the  state,  of 
conspiring  against  the  kingdom  of  Naples.  This 
affair  became  serious;  and  he  in  consequence  bore 
twenty-seven  years'  imprisonment ;  during  which, 
he  suffered  the  torture  called  the  question,  ordinary 
and  extraordinary,  seven  times,  and  did  not  obtain 
his  liberty,  but  at  the  intercession  of  Pope  Urban 
VIII.;  after  which  he  came  to  Paris,  where  he  was 
protected  by  Cardinal  Richlieu  and  Lewis  XIII., 
and  died  there  in  1639,  aged  71  years. 

During  the  time  of  his  imprisonment,  he  trans- 
lated Ptolemy's  Mathematics,  from  the  Greek,  and 
composed  his  Astrological  Predictions  and  Judg- 


413 

roent  on  Nativities,  agreeably  to  the  doctrine  of 
Ptolemy,  in  Latin.  This  work,  which  is  not 
known  in  English,  is  much  celebrated  in  France ; 
and  has  been  translated  into  French  by  the  Abb6 
Deschamps,  in  3  vols.  8vo.  His  other  works 
are  merely  polemical ;  and  entirely  in  the  disputa- 
tive  style  of  the  age  he  lived  in.  His  "Atheism 
Triiimphatus"  gained  him  most  notice;  and  such 
was  his  astrological  skill,  that  the  ministers  of 
state  constantly  consulted  him  upon  the  affairs  of 
Italy. 


AST&OLOOUEUU 

James  Ozanam,  an  eminent  mathematician,  was 
born  in  1640.  He  was  the  youngest  son  of  a  very 
opulent  family,  and  designed  for  the  church  by 
his  father,  who  had  given  him  an  excellent  educa- 
tion. He  studied  divinity  four  years,  rather  out 
of  obedience  than  inclination ;  but  upon  his 
father's  death,  he  quitted  that  study,  and  applied 
himself  wholly  to  the  mathematics,  for  which  he 
had  a  singular  genius.  He  afterwards  taught  that 
science  at  Lyons,  and  was,  for  his  generosity  to 
two  foreigners,  his  scholars,  by  them  recommended 
to  Mr.  Dageuesseau  (father  of  the  Chancellor) 
who  sent  for  him  to  Paris,  with  a  promise  to  assist 
him  to  the  utmost  of  his  power.  Our  author, 
therefore,  came  and  settled  at  Paris,  where  he  aban- 
doned his  inclination  to  gaming,  to  which  he  had 
been  very  much  addicted,  and  devoted  himself 
himself  entirely  to  the  mathematics.  He  met  with 
pretty  good  encouragement  at  Paris,  till  the  war 
(which  was  occasioned  soon  after  the  year  1701, 


414 

by  the  Spanish  succession)  deprived  him  of  all  his 
scholars,  and  reduced  him  to  a  very  melancholy 
state.  It  was  at  that  time,  he  was  admitted  in  the 
Royal  Academy  of  Sciences,  in  quality  of  an  Eleve. 
The  singular  knowledge  he  obtained  in  the  doc- 
trine of  nativities,  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact, 
that  having  cast  his  horoscope  and  brought  up  the 
anaretical  direction,  he  was  so  firmly  persuaded  of 
his  death,  (as  seen  therein,)  that  although  he  was 
without  any  sickness  either  of  body  or  mind,  he  re- 
fused to  accept  of  some  foreign  noblemen  for 
scholars,  alleging  that  he  should  soon  die,  as  his 
nativity  foretold;  which  he  actually  did,  April  3, 
1717,  of  an  apoplexy,  in  less  than  two  hours, 
being  then  77  years  old. 

It  is  not  without  reason,  that  his  contemporaries 
have  ascribed  to  him  considerable  knowledge  in 
the  starry  science,  seeing  the  foreknowledge  of  his 
own  death  is  a  confirmation  thereof ;  although,  like 
Dryden,  the  poet,  he  chose  not  to  affect  any  scien- 
tific display.  His  name,  as  a  mathematician,  was 
equally  as  famous  as  for  his  other  pursuits;  his 
works,  which  are  very  numerous,  have  ijaet  with  the 
approbation  of  the  learned  of  all  countries,  parti- 
cularly his  "  Mathematical  Recreations"  which 
remain  an  incontrovertible  proof  of  his  great  inge- 
nuity. Mons.  Gurpt  has  made  much  use  of  this 
work,  though  neither  him,  nor  Dr.  Hooper,  his 
translator,  have  had  the  candour  to  acknowledge  it. 


415 


A  FAMOUS  na&UB   VOUTXCAX. 


William  Lilly,  an  eminent  English  astrologer, 
in  the  seventeenth  century,  carried  the  art  of  the 
siderial  influx  to  such  a  height,  and  the  temper  of 
the  times  favouring  the  celestial  science,  that  no 
material  step  was  taken  by  the  court,  without  fii>t 
consulting  Mr.  Wm.  Lilly.  His  "Merlinus  An- 
gliciis  Junior,"  the  "Supernatural  Sight,"  and 
"The  White  King's  Prophecy,"  contributed  much 
to  his  fame,  in  the  distracted  time  of  Charles  I 
While  that  king  was  at  Hampton  Court,  about 
July  or  August,  1647,  he  was  consulted  whither  his 
Majesty  might  retire  for  safety;  and,  in  1648,  he 
was  consulted  for  the  same  purpose,  while  the  king 
was  at  Carisbrook  Castle,  in  the  Isle  of  Wight. 

The  same  year,  he  published  his  "  Treatise  of  tie 
Three  Suns,"  seen  the  preceding  winter,  as  also 
an  astrological  judgment  upon  a  conjunction  of 
Saturn  and  Mars.  This  year  the  Council  of  State 
gave  him  in  money,  fifty  pounds,  and  a  pension  of 
an  hundred  pounds  per  annum.  In  1648  and  1649, 
he  publicly  read  and  explained  the  first  part  of  his 
Christian  Astrology,  for  the  improvement  of  young 
students  in  that  science.  In  1651,  he  published 
his  "Monarchy,  or  No  Monarchy."  During  the 
siege  of  Colchester,  he  and  John  Booker  were  sent 
for  to  encourage  the  soldiers,  assuring  them  that 
the  town  would  soon  be  taken,  as  indeed  it  was. 
In  1652,  he  published  his  "  Annus  Tenebrosus." 
In  his  almanack  for  the  next  year,  he  asserted  that 
the  Parliament  stood  upon  a  tottering  foundation ; 
upon  which,  he  was  confined  for  thirteen  days.     In 


416 

1654,   he   had   a  dispute  with    the   learned    Mr 
Gataker,  who,  in  his  annotations  on  Jeremiah  x. 
2,  had  reflected  on  Mr.  Lilly.     In  1655,  he  was 
indicted  at  Hicks's  Hall  for  giving  judgment  upon 
stolen  goods,  but  was  acquitted. 

In  1659,  Captain  Cox  brought  him,  from  the 
King  of  Sweden,  a  gold  chain  and  a  medal,  worth 
about  fifty  pounds,  on  account  of  Mr.  Lilly's 
having  mentioned  that  king  with  respect,  in  his 
almanack  of  1657.  In  June,  1660,  he  was  taken 
into  custody  by  order  of  the  Parliament ;  by  whom 
he  was  examined  concerning  the  person  who  cut 
off  the  head  of  King  Charles  I.  The  same  year,  he 
sued  out  his  pardon  under  the  Great  Seal  of 
England. 

The  plague  raging  in  London,  he  removed  with 
his  family  to  his  estate  at  Hersham ;  and  in  Octo- 
ber, 1666,  was  examined  before  a  Committee  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  concerning  the  fire  of  London, 
which  happened  in  September  that  year. 
i  His  last  publication  was  his  "  Guide  for  Astro- 
logers," translated  from  the  Latin  of  Guido  Bo- 
natus ;  a  good  piece :  but  his  principal  work  is  the 
*  Christian  Astrology,'5  a  book,  than  which,  there 
>s  not  a  better  extant,  upon  the  subject  of  horary 
astrology,  in  the  English  language. 

After  his  retirement  to  Hersham,  he  applied 
himself  to  the  study  of  physic,  and  by  means  of 
his  friend,  Mr.  Ashmole,  obtained  from  Archbishop 
Sheldon  a  license  for  the  practice  of  it.  A  little 
before  his  death,  he  adopted  for  his  son,  by  the 
name  of  Merlin  Junior,  one  Henry  Coley ;  and  at 
the  same  time  gave  him  the  impression  of  his 
almanack,  after  it  had  been  printed  for  thirty-six 


417 


years.  He  died  in  1681,  of  a  dead  palsy.  Mr. 
Ashmole  set  a  monument  over  his  grave,  in  the 
church  of  Walton  upon  Thames.  Mr.  George 
Smalridge,  then  a  scholar  at  Westminster  School, 
afterwards  Bishop  of  Bristol,  wrote  two  Elegies, 
one  in  Latin,  the  other  in  English,  upon  his  de-fitb. 


Sir  George  Wharton,  a  soldier  and  a  poet, 
famous  for  his  loyalty  to  Charles  I.,  in  whose  cause 
he  suffered  much,  and  was  long  imprisoned,  was 
born  in  Westmoreland.  He  spent  the  greatest 
part  of  his  patrimony  in  the  service  of  Charles  I., 
for  whom  he  raised  a  fine  troop  of  horse,  which  he 
commanded  in  person.  When  he  could  no  longer 
keep  the  field,  he  retired  to  his  studies,  which  he 
pursued  with  uncommon  application,  particularly 
that  of  astrology:  his  progress  in  this  art  was 
suitable  to  his  passion  for  it.  He  was  the  author 
of  almanacks,  mercuries,  and  several  astrological 
pieces :  we  are  indebted  to  him  for  a  chronological 
account  of  all  tba  remarkable  occurrences  in  the 
civil  war,,  since  printed  under  the  title  of  the  His* 
torian's  Guide,  and  much  improved  afterwards  by 
Mr.  Salmon,  in  the  Chronological  Historian.  He 
had  a  knack  of  versifying,  which  he  used  much 
in  his  astrological  works :  those  were  well  suited 
to  the  enthusiasm  of  the  times. 

Upon  the  Restoration,  he  was  appointed  pay-' 
master  of  the  Ordnance,  and  cheated  a  baronet, 
which  set  him  above  the  profession  of  an  author. 
He  died  August,  1681.  His  works  were  pub* 
lished  by  Gadbury,  8vo.  1683. 

3o 


418 


A  BOHEMIAN  ASTROLOGER. 

Ciprian  Leovitires,  was  a  celebrated  Bohe- 
mian astrologer,  and  the  most  skilful  astrologer  of 
that  country.  He  was  born  in  1540,  and  owed  all 
his  knowledge  entirely  to  his  own  industry ;  for  he 
was  not  so  much  as  taught  to  read,  and  could  name 
and  place  upwards  of  1000  stars  before  he  could 
write.  In  1565,  he  foretold  that  the  Sultan  Soli- 
man  the  Second,  should  take  Sigatha,  the  strongest 
place  in  Hungary,  in  the  very  face  of  the  Emperor 
and  his  army,  notwithstanding  what  they  could  do ; 
which  happened  accordingly.  In  1569,  he  had  a 
conference  with  Tycho  Brahe,  who  visited  him  on 
purpose.  He  died  young,  in  1574.  We  have  of 
his,  in  print,  in  Latin,  a  description  and  history  of 
Eclipses,  in  folio ;  Ephemerides,  from  1564  to  1574, 
and  afterwards  continued  by  other  hands  to  1607, 
in  8vo  ;  these  are  very  scarce  :  a  curious  work  en- 
titled "  De  Judiceiis  Nativitatum"  4to.  1570. 
And  there  has  since  been  published  a  translation 
from  some  part  of  his  works,  and  called  in  English 
"  An  Astrological  Catechism  ;"  but,  as  it  does  him 
and  the  translator  no  credit,  we  shall  pass  it  over. 

A  SCOTTISH  ASTROLOGER. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  13th  century,  there  lived 
in  Scotland  a  man  named  Thomas  Lermouth,  who 
was  considered  as  a  prodigy,  from  his  skill  in  horo- 
scopes, and  foretelling  future  events.  He  had  fore- 
told, many  ages  before  it  happened,  the  union  of 
England  and  Scotland,  in  the  ninth  degree  ol 
Bruce's  blood,  with  the  succession  of  Bruce  him- 


4J9 

self  to  the  Crown,  being  yet  a  child.  The  day 
before  the  death  of  King  Alexander,  he  told  the 
Earl  of  Maj-ch,  that  before  the  next  day  at  noon, 
guch  a  tempest  should  blow,  as  Scotland  had  not 
felt  many  years  before.  The  next  morning  proving 
clear  and  serene,  the  Earl  rallied  Thomas  with  the 
fallacy  of  his  prediction.  "  Noon  is  not  yet  past" 
replied  Lermouth ;  and  soon  after,  arrived  a  messen- 
ger with  news  of  the  King's  sudden  death. 
44  This,"  cried  the  seer,  "  is  the  tempest  I  foresaw ;" 
and  such  indeed,  it  eventually  proved. 

A  ROMAN  ASTROLOGER. 

Thrasyllus,  a  famous  mathematician  and  as- 
trologer, was  in  the  retinue  of  Tiberius,  when  the 
latter  lived  in  exile  at  Rhodes ;  and,  notwithstand- 
ing the  very  unpromising  aspect  of  his  affairs, 
Caius  and  Lucius,  who  stood  in  his  way  to  the 
throne,  being  still  alive ;  yet  would  the  astrologer 
be  continually  flattering  him  with  hopes  of  suc- 
ceeding to  the  Empire.  Tiberius  putting  no  faith 
in  the  prediction,  which  he  suspected  to  be  a  con- 
trivance of  his  enemies,'  to  betray  him  intQ  some 
treasonable  measures,  that  might  affect  his  life,  de- 
termined to  make  away  with  him  privily.  The 
house  he  lived  in  was  washed  by  the  sea,  over 
which  projected  a  tower,  whence  he  resolved  to 
cast  him  headlong,  with  the  assistance  of  a  trusty 
and  vigorous  servant,  whom  he  had  made  privy  to 
his  designs. 

On  the  day  appointed  for  the  execution  of  his 
purpose,  having  summoned  Thrasyllus  to  attend 
him  in  the  tower,  "  I  charge  you,"  said  Tiberius, 


420 

"  by  all  that  you  hold  dear,  say  whether  that  be 
true,  which  you  have  so  confidently  affirmed  to  me 
concerning  the  Empire !" — "  What  I  have  affirmed," 
replied  Thrasyllus,  is  by  the  stars  ordained  to 
happen,  and  my  prediction  will  soon  be  accom- 
plished." "  If,"  said  Tiberius,  "  the  stars  reveal 
my  destiny,  what  may  be  their  pleasure  concerning 
yours  ?"  upon  which,  the  astrologer  presently 
erected  a  scheme,  and  having  considered  the  situa- 
tion of  the  stars,  changed  countenance,  and  with 
unafFected  perturbation  exclaimed,  "  My  situation 
is  hazardous,  and  my  end  not  far  distant."  Where- 
upon Tiberius,  embracing  him,  said,  "Till  now, 
Thrasyllus,  I  had  regarded  your  predictions  as  an 
imposition,  and  had  intended  your  death  as  a 
punishment  for  your  deception." — Not  long  after- 
wards, the  same  Thrasyllus,  walking  with  Tiberius 
on  the  beach,  discovered  a  ship  under  sail,  at  a 
considerable  distance.  "That  vessel,"  said  the 
astrologer,  "  has  sailed  from  Rome,  with  messen- 
gers from  Augustus,  and  letters  permitting  your 
return ;"  which  the  event  verified ;  and  not  long 
after,  Tiberius  became  Emperor  of  Rome,  as  the 
astrologer  foretold.  ,-.  : ..... 


FATAL    HOROSCOPES. 

No.  1. 

EVINCING  THE  WONDERFUL  POWER  OF  ASTRAL 
AGENCY  OVER  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 


"  For  Heaven 
Is  as  the  book  of  God  before  thee  set ; 
Wherein  to  read  his  wond'rons  works,  and  learn 
His  seasons,' hours,  or  days,  or  months,  or  years.1 


99 


MlLTOK. 


Cftt  Nattoiis  Af  a  8B*rri*?« 


422 

In  again  introducing  this  interesting  subject  to 
the  notice  of  my  readers,  I  cannot  but  express  my 
warmest  exultation,  at  the  singular  success  with  which 
my  scientific  labours,  relative  to  the  theory  of  planetary 
influence,  and  the  imparting  of  that  sublime  and 
valuable  knowledge,  have  been  attended. — The  nu- 
merous testimonials  which  I  have  received  from 
almost  all  parts  of  the  habitable  globe ;  from  tlte 
metropolis  of  England,  to  tlie  shores  of  the  Atlantic 
Ocean ;  call  forth  my  most  grateful  acknowledge- 
ment :  especially,  since  so  many  learned  enemies  to 
the  doctrine  of  prescience,  (previous  to  the  perusal 
of  my  writings,)  are  how  become  the  wannest  vo- 
taries of  that  celestial  science,  which  unveils  the 
future,  and  which  has  thus  a  claim  on  the  atten- 
tion, that  no  other  science  of  the  present  day  can 
possess ;  since  it  approaches  nearest  of  all  others 
to  the  attributes  of  imperishable  knowledge : 

*******  By  favour  sent 
Down  from  the  Empyrean,  to  forewarn 
Us  timely    ******* 
For  which ;  to  th9  infinitely  Good  we  owe 
Immortal  thanks/' 

Milton. 

My  present  subject,  in  pursuance  of  the  same  de- 
sign, namely,  the  instruction  of  the  scientific  ob- 
server, is  the  remarkable  nativity  of  a  brave  and 
courageous  officer,  who  was  slain,  in  action  with 
the  Burmese,  at  Wattygoon,  in  the  month  of 
November,  1825. 

And  as  I  predicted  his  death  several  years  be- 
fore it  took  place,  I  have  deemed  it  worthy  of 
insertion  in  the  following  pages,  particularly  as  the 
calculation  of  the  Fatal  Direction,  was  preserved 


423 

by  me  in  the  MS.  copy  of  the  horoscope  the  native 
himself  received. 

By  inspecting  the  celestial  diagram  of  his  na- 
tivity, we  find  that  his  chief  significator  (or  ruling 
star,)  was  the  fiery  planet  Mars ;  who  was  placed 
in  the  degree  of  his  exaltation,  and  wonderfully  po- 
tent in  the  horoscope;  in  trine  to  the  Sun,  who 
was  on  the  very  cusp  of  the  western  horizon ;  and 
in  a  sextile  ray  to  the  planet  Jupiter :  which  latter 
star  was  arising  at  his  birth.— Admirable  testimo- 
nies of  a  mind  generous  yet  courageous ;   firm  in 
action,  and  lion-like  in  battle,  but  possessing  feel- 
ings of  refinement  and  sensibility,  that  would  do 
honour  to  the  brightest  or  the  most  elevated  in 
life.     A  skilful  biographer  records  the  following 
particulars  of  his  life  and  death : — "  He  landed  as 
a  Cadet  in  India,  in  February,  1737,  and  in  January, 
1799,  commenced  his  military  career,  under  the 
command  of  Gen.  WeUesley,  now  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington.    At  the  memorable  siege  of  Seringapatam% 
he  commanded  one  of  the  Grenadier  Companies, 
which  formed  part  of  the  storming  column.     He 
took  the  field  in  1812,  in  Mahratta  country;  was, 
in  1815,  at  Hydrabad:  in  the   following  year,  he 
surprized  and  defeated  3000  Pindarries,  and   re- 
ceived public  thanks ;  he  was  in  a  variety  of  battles 
until  the  year  1824,  when  he  was  promoted ;  and 
on  the  breaking  out  of  the  Burmese  war,  he  sailed 
with  the  expedition  for  Rangoon,  where  he  gained 
fresh  laurels.     On  the  rupture  of  the  Armistice  in 
November,    1825,   he  was  placed  in  command  of 
two  brigades  of  native  infantry,  and  directed  to  at- 
tack a  body  of  Burmese  at  Wattygoon.     After  a 
night  march  of  upwards  of  20  miles,  he  met  the 


424 

enemy  on  the  16th  November,  and  drove  them 
before  him,  till  he  reached  some  breast- works,  and 
was  in  the  act  of  gallantly  cheering  his  men,  when 
he  was  shot  in  the  forehead  by  a  musket  ball,  and 
died  instantaneously!" 

It  was  in  the  year  1821,  that  I  calculated  his  na- 
tivity, by  the  particular  desire  of  a  brother  officer, 
as  expressed  in  his  letter  from  India,  and  who  de- 
clared his  intention  of  showing  the  result  of  my 
skill  to  the  native  himself;  but  I  am  not  capable  of 
ascertaining  whether  he  did  so,  or  not.  However, 
I  soon  perceived  by  inspecting  the  scheme,  that 
the  geniture  portended  imminent  danger  of  violent 
death :  for  therein,  the  Sun;  who  is  Hyleg,  or  giver 
of  life,  is  conjoined  with  violent  fixed  stars,  in  con- 
figuration with  no  favourable  rays ;  and  the  enemies 
of  life,  particularly  Saturn,  the  destroyer  thereof, 
is  posited  in  the  fiery  sign  Sagittarius,  in  square  to 
Mercury,  who  rules  the  Head,  and  as  such,  cer- 
tainly denoted  imminent  danger  by  fire  arms  or  the 
hands  of  man — as  any  student,  who  is  at  all  conver- 
sant with  the  science,  must  know.  The  coincidence 
of  his  death,  being  exactly  verified,  is  at  first  sight 
rather  remarkable ;  but,  in  fact,  only  serves  to  prove 
that  the  planetary  bodies  have  the  most  wonderful 
influence  over  the  destiny  of  mortals.  I  predicted 
that  his  forty-fifth  year,  would  be  the  termination 
of  his  earthly  career,  and  in  an  hostile  manner, 
as  before  stated  ;  for  the  Sun,  who  was  Hyleg,  at 
the  age  of  44.  years  and  6  months,  met  with  the 
opposition  of  Saturn,  his  mortal  enemy ;  and  be- 
yond which  time,  /  declared  my  opinion  that  he 
could  not  possibly  sumive.  The  calculation  thereof 
Mill  evince  the  truth  of  the  science. 


425 


THE 

ASTROLOGICAL    DIRECTION 

OF    THE 

SUN    AS    HYLEG, 

TO 

THE    OPPOSITION    OF    SATURN 

AS   THS 

"mmvoutt  of  irtfc 

ARITHMETICALLY        CALCULATED. 

The  Sun  being  exactly  on  the  cusp  of  the  western 
horizon,  his  pole  is  57°  30',  or  the  latitude  of  the 
country ;  and  when  Saturn  arose,  he  came  to  the 
Solar  Rays  by  diametrical  opposition—to  calculate 
which,  proceed  thus :—  0      , 

To  the  right  ascension  of  h  257  59 

Semi  nocturnal  arc  of  h  add  127  48 

» 

385  47 
From  which  subtract  the  Imum  Coeli    341   56 


Remains  the  arc  of  direction  43  51 

which  answers  in  time,  to  44  years,  6  months  of  his 
age,  and  the  exact  time  of  his  death  ;  which  event 
was  rendered  still  more  certain  by  the  Sun  coming 
to  the  zodiacal  opposition  of  Saturn,  also  in  the 
48th  year.  I  trust  this  example  of  the  fatal  power 
of  the  malific  planets,  will  be  acceptable  to  the 
astral  student*. 

•All  correspondence  upon  NatitUUs,  Is  requested  to  be  addressed,  pott 
paid,  to  Msu  R.  C  Smith,  Mathematician,  and  A*lro*»mer%  No.  7A,  Cs<*tlc 
Street  East,  Oxford  Street,  London. 

3  H 


426 


d*  tttovlfc  Hf  £#ttft* 


ANCIENT    ENCHANTMENT. 

44  A  moment  then,  the  volume  spread. 
And  one  short  spell,  therein  he  rend, 
It  had  much  of  magic  might ; 
Could  make  a  Lady  seem  a  Knight : 
The  cobwebs  on  a  dungeon  wall 
Seem  tapestry  in  lordly  hall ; 
A  nut  shell  seem  a  gilded  barge, 
A  sheeling  seem  a  palace  large, 
And  youth  seem  age,  and  age  seem  youth — 
All  was  delusion,  nought  was  truth. 
He  had  not  read  another  spell 
When  on  his  check  a  buffet  fell, 
So  fierce,  it  stretch'd  him  on  the  plain, 
Beside  the  wounded  Dcloraine.'* 

Lay  qfthe  Last  Minstrel. 

According  to  Froissart,  enchantments  were  for- 
merly used  even  in  war.  In  1381,  when  the  Duke 
of  Anjou  lay  before  a  strong  castle,  upon  the  coast 
of  Naples,  a  Necromancer  offered  to  "  make  the 
a  if  re  so  thycke,  that  they  within  slial  thynke  that  there 
is  a  great  bridge  on  the  see,  (by  which  the  castle 
was  surrounded,)  for  ten  men  to  go  a  front;  and 
when  they  within  t/ie  castle y  se  this  bridge,  they  will 
be  so  afrayde,  tliat  they  shal  yelde  them  to  your 
mercy"  The  Duke  demanded — Fayre  master,  on 
this  bridge  that  ye  spake  of,  may  our  people  go 
thereon  assuredly  to  the  castell,  to  assayle  it?  Syr, 
quod  the  enchantour,  I  dare  not  assure  you  that ; 
for  if  any  that  passeth  on  the  bridge  make  the  sign 
of  the  crosse  on  him,  all  shall  go  to  noughte,  and 
they  that  be  on  the  bridge  shall  fall  into  the  see. 
Then  the  Duke  began  to  laugh ;  and  a  certain  of 
young  knightes,  that  were  there  present,  said,  "Syr, 
for  God-sake,  let  the  mayster  essay  his  cunning: 


427 

we  hfrall  leve  making  of  any  eigne  of  the  crosse  on 
us,  for  that  tyme."    The  Earl  of  Savoy,  shortly 
after,   entered    the    tent,  and   recognised  in  the 
enchanter  the  same  person  who  had  pnt  the  castle 
into  the  power  of  Sir  Charles  de  la  Payx,  who  then 
held  it,  by  persuading  the  garrison  of  the  Queen 
of  Naples,  through  magical  deception,  that  the  sea 
was  coming  over  the  walls.    The  Sage,  avowed  the 
feat,  and  added,  that  he  was  the  man  in  the  world 
most  dreaded  by  Sir   Charles.      "  By  my  faythf 
quod  the  Erl  of  Savoy,  ye  say  well ;   and  I  will, 
that  Syr  Charles  de  la  Payx  shall  know  that  he 
hath  gret  wronge  to  fear  you.      But  I  shall  assure 
him  of  you ;  for  ye  shall  never  do  enchant    ent,  to 
deceyve  him,  nor  yet  none  other.      I  would  not 
that  in  tyme  to  come,  we  shuld  be  reproached, 
that  in  so  high  an  enterprise  as  we  be  in,  wherein 
there  be  so  many  noble  knyghtes  and  sqyres  as- 
sembled, that  we  shulde  do  any  thyng  by  enchant- 
ment, nor  that  we  shulde  wyn  our  enemys  by  such 
crafte.     Then  he  called  to  him  a  servant,  and  sayd, 
go  and  get  a  hangman,  and  let  him  stryke  off  this 
mayster's  head,  without  delay  :  and  as  soone  as  the 
Erie  had  commanded  it,  incontynent  it  was  done, 
for  his  head  was  stryken   off,   before  the   Erie's 
tent/* 

Froissart,  vol.  I.  391,  392. 

"  Where  U  the  Necromancer  f  let  him  bring 
His  treasury  of  charms,  rich  syrups,  herbs 
Gathered  in  eclipse;  or  when  shooting  stars 
Sow  Earth  with  pearl ;  or  let  him  call  his  sprites, 
Till  the  air  thickens,  and  the  golden  noon 
Smote  by  bis  wings,  is  turned  to  sudden  midnight  1" 

CftO&Y. 


42ti 


A  MARVELLOUS   TALE   OF 
ENCHANTMENT. 

In  a  very  rare  old  book,  which  "  treateth  of  the 
lyfe  of  Virgilius,  and  of  his  death,  and  many  mar- 
vailles  that  he  dyd  in  his  lyfe-time,  by  wyche-crafte 
and  nygramancye,  throughe  the  helpe  of  the 
devylles  of  hell,"  mention  is  made  of  a  very  ex- 
traordinary process,  in  which  "renovation  of  life," 
was  attempted.  It  seems  that  Virgil,  as  he  ad- 
vanced in  years,  became  desirous  of  renovating  his 
youth,  by  his  magical  art.  For  this  purpose,  he 
constructed  a  solitary  tower,  having  only  one  nar- 
row portal,  in  which  he  placed  twenty-four  copper 
figures,  armed  with  iron  flails,  twelve  on  each  side 
of  the  porch.  These  enchanted  statues,  struck 
with  their  flails  incessantly,  and  rendered  all 
entrance  impossible,  unless  when  Virgil  touched 
the  spring,  which  stopped  their  motion.  To  this 
tower,  he  repaired  privately,  attended  by  one  trusty 
servant,  to  whom  he  communicated  the  secret  of 
the  entrance,  and  hither  they  conveyed  all  the 
magician's  treasure.  "Then  sayde  Virgilius,  my 
dere  beloved  friende,  and  he  that  I  above  alle  men 
truste,  and  knowe  mooste  of  my  secrete."  And  then 
he  led  the  man  into  a  cellar,  where  he  made  a  fayer 
larape,  at  all  seasones  burnynge.  And  then  sayd 
Virgilius  to  the  man,  "  See  you  the  barrell  that 
standeth  here?"  And  he  sayd,  Yea:  " Therein 
must  you  put  me;  fyrste  ye  must  slee  me,  and 
hewe  me  smalle  to  pieces,  and  cut  my  hed  in  iiii 
pieces,  and  salte  the  hed  under  in  the  bottom,  and 
then  the  pieces   thereafter,    and    my  herte  in  the 


429 

myddel,  and  then  set  the  barrel  under  the  lampe, 
that  nyghte  and  day,  the  fat  therein  may  droppe 
and  leak ;  and  ye  shall  ix  days  long,  ones  in  the 
day,  fyll  the  lampe,  and  fayle  not.  And  when  this 
is  all  done,  then  shall  I  be  renewd,  and  made 
yoange  agen."  At  this  extraordinary  proposal, 
the  confidant  was  sore  abashed,  and  made  some 
scruple  of  dbeying  his  master's  commands.  At 
length,  however,  he  complied,  and  Virgil  was  slain, 
pickled,  and  barrelled  np,  in  all  respects  according 
to  his  own  direction.  The  servant  then  left  the 
tower,  taking  care  to  put  the  copper  thrashers  in 
motion  at  his  departure.  He  continued  daily  to 
visit  the  tower,  with  the  same  precaution.  Mean- 
while, the  Emperor,  with  whom  Virgil  was  a  great 
favourite,  missed  him  from  the  Court,  and  demanded 
of  his  servant  where  he  was.  The  domestic  pre- 
tended ignorance,  till  the  Emperor  threatened  him 
with  death,  when  at  length,  be  conveyed  him  to  the 
enchanted  tower.  The  same  threat,  extorted  a 
discovery  of  the  mode  of  stopping  the  statues 
from  wielding  their  flails.  "  And  then  the  Em- 
perour  entered  into  the  castle,  with  all  his  folke, 
and  soughte  all  aboute,  in  every  corner,  after  Virgi- 
Hus ;  and  at  the  last,  they  soughte  so  long,  that  they 
came  into  the  seller,  where  they  sawe  the  lampc 
hang  over  the  barrell,  where  Virgilius  lay  dead. 
Then  asked  the  Eraperour,  the  man,  who  had  made 
hym  go  herdy,  to  put  his  mayster  Virgilius  so  to 
dethe:  and  the  man  answerede  no  word  to  the 
Emperor.  And  then  the  Eraperour,  with  great 
anger,  drewe  out  his  sworde,  and  slewe  he  there 
Virgilms's  man.  And  when  all  this  was  done, 
then  sawe  the  Emperour,  and  all  his  folke,  a  naked 


430 


childe,  iii  tymes  runnynge  about  the  barrell,  say- 
inge  these  wordes,  '  Cursed  be  the  tyme  that  ye 
ever  came  here  !'  And  with  those  wordes,  vanyshed 
the  chylde  awaye,  and  was  never  sene  agene :  and 
thus  abyd  Virgilius  in  the  barrell  dead." 

Virgilias,  bl.  let.,  printed  at  Antwerpe. 


MICHAEL  SCOTT,  THE  NECROMANCER 

"  In  these  far  climes,  it  was  my  lot 
To  meet  the  wond'rous  Michael  Scott. 
A  wizard  of  such  dreaded  fame, 
That  when  in  Salamanca's  cave 
Him  listed,  his  magic  wand  to  wave, 
The  bells  would  ring  in  Notre  Dame. 
Some  of  his  skill,  he  taught  to  me, 
And  warrior  I  could  say  to  thee  ; 
The  words  that  cleft  Eildon  hills  in  three  ; 
And  bridled  the  Tweed,  with  a  curb  of  stone  , 
But  to  speak  them  were  a  deadly  sin, 
And  for  having  but  thought  them  my  heart  within, 
A  treble  penance  must  be  done; 
When  Michael  lay  on  his  dying  bed, 
His  conscience  was  awakened ; 
He  bethought  him  of  his  sinful  deed, 
And  he  gave  me  a  sign  to  come  with  speed. 
I  was  in  Spain,  when  the  morning  lose, 
But  I  stood  by  his  bed,  ere  evening'  close  ; 
The  words  may  not  again  be  said 
That  he  spoke  to  me  on  death-bed  laid ; 
They  would  rend  this  Abbayc's  massy  nave, 
And  pile  it  in  heaps  above  his  grave. 
I  8 wore  to  bury  his  mighty  book 
That  never  mortal  might  therein  look  , 
And  never  to  tell  where  it  was  hid, 
(Save  at  his  Chief  of  Branksome's  need)  ; 
And  when  that  need  was  past  and  oVr 
Again  the  volume  to  restore. 


431 


I  buried  him,  on  St.  Michael's  night, 

When  the  bell  toll'd  one,  and  the  moon  wai  bright 

And  I  dog  his  chamber  among  the  dead 

When  the  floor  of  the  chancel  was  stained  red. 

That  his  patron's  cross  might  o'er  him  wave. 

And  scare  the  fiends  from  the  wizard's  grave. 

It  was  a  night  of  woe  and  dread, 

When  Michael  in  the  tomb  I  laid v 

Strange  sounds  along  the  chancel  past, 

The  banners  waved  without  a  blast. 

Lo !  Warrior !  now  the  cross  of  red 

Points  to  the  grave  of  the  mighty  dead • 

Within  it  barns  a  wond'rous  light, 

To  chase  the  spirits  that  love  the  night. 

With  beating  heart  to  the  task  he  went, 

His  sinewy  frame  o'er  the  grave«4tone  bent, 

With  bar  of  iron  heaved  amain 

Till  the  toil-drops  fell  from  his  brows  like  rain. 

I  would  yon  had  been  there,  to  see 

How  the  light  broke  forth  so  gloriously ; 

Streamed  upward  to  the  chancel  roof 

And  through  the  galleries  far  aloof! 

No  earthly  flame  blazed  e'er  so  bright 

It  shone  like  heaven's  own  blessed  light. 

Before  their  eyes  the  wizard  lay, 

As  if  he  had  not  been  dead  a  day. 

His  hoary  heard  in  silver  rolTd, 

He  seem'd  some  seventy  winters  old  ; 

His  left  hand  held  his  book  of  might, 

A  silver  cross  was  in  his  right ; 

The  lamp  was  placed  beside  his  knee : 

High  and  majestic  was  his  look, 

At  which  the  fellest  fiends  had  shook ; 

And  all  unruffled  was  his  face, 

They  trusted  his  soul  had  gotten  grace. 

And  when  the  priest  his  death-prayer  had  pray'd, 

Thus  unto  Deloralne  he  said : — 

'  Now  speed  thee  what  thou  hast  to  do, 

Or,  warrior!  we  may  dearly  rue: 

For  those  thou  may'st  not  look  upon, 

Are  gathering  fast  round  the  yawning  stone!'— 


432 


Then  Dcloraine,  in  terror  took, 

From  the  cold  hand  the  mighty  book. 

With  iron  clasp'd,  and  with  iron  bound. 

He  thought  as  he  took  it,  the  dead  man  frown'd. 

When  the  huge  stone  sunk  o'er  the  tomb, 

The  night  return'd  in  double  gloom ; 

For  the  moon  had  gone  down,  and  the  stars  were  few : 

And  as  the  knight  and  the  priest  withdrew, 

'Tis  said,  as  through  the  aisles  they  past, 

They  heard  strange  noises  on  the  blast. 

And  through  the  cloister  galleries  small, 

Which  at  mid-height  thread  the  chancel  wall, 

Loud  sobs,  and  laughter  louder,  ran, 

And  voices,  unlike  the  voice  of  man  ; 

As  if  the  fiends  kept  holiday, 

Because  those  spells  were  brought  to-day." 

Scott 


433 


A    MAHVELLOUS    LEGEND. 

It  was  a  glorious  evening  in  the  summer  of  1793 
—sky  and  cloud  blending  in  one  uniform  flood  of 
splendour.  The  brightness  of  the  heavens  was 
reflected  on  the  broad  bosom  of  the  Saale,  a 
river  which,  passing  Jena,  falls  lower  down  into 
the  Elbe,  whence  the  commingled  waters  roll 
onward  till  lost  in  the  Noordt  Zee. 

On  the  banks  of  this  stream,  not  more  than  a 
mile  from  Jena,  sat  two  persons  enjoying  the 
delicious  coolness  of  the  hour.  Their  dress  was^ 
remarkable,  and  sufficiently  indicative  of  their 
pursuits. — Their  sable  garments  and  caps  of  black 
velvet,  their  long  streaming  hair,  combed  down  the 
shoulders  and  back,  and  the  straight  swords  sus- 
pended from  their  right  breasts,  denoted  them  to 
be  two  of  the  burschen,  or  students  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Jena. 

'  Such  an  evening  as  this/  said  the  elder  youth, 
addressing  his  companion,  *  and  thou  here  ? 
Thyrza  is  much  indebted  to  thee  for  thy  attention. 
Thou  a  lover !' 

*  Thyrza  is  gone  with  her  mother  to  Carlsbad/ 
rejoined  his  companion,  *  so  thou  mayst  cease  thy 
wonderment.' 

'  So  far  from  it,  that  I  wonder  the  more*  A  true 
lover  knows  not  the  relations  of  space.  To  Carls- 
bad! why 'tis  no  more  than — but  sehtl  who  have 
we  here  ?' 

3  i 


431 

As  he  spoke,  they  were  approached  by  a  little 
old  man,  whose  garments  of  brown  serge  appeared 
to  have  seen  considerable  service.  He  wore  a 
conical  hat,  and  carried  in  his  hand  an  antique 
gold-headed  cane.  His  features  betokened  great 
age ;  but  his  frame,  though  exceedingly  spare,  was 
apparently  healthy  and  active.  His  eyes  were 
singularly  large  and  bright ;  and  his  hair,  incon- 
sistent in  some  respects  with  the  rest  of  his 
appearance,  crowded  from  under  his  high-crowaed 
hat  in  black  and  grizzly  masses. 

*  A  good  evening  to  you,  Meine  Hen  in,'  said  the 
little  old  man,  with  a  most  polite  bow,  as  he 
approached  the  students. 

They  returned  his  salutation  with  the  doubtful 
courtesy  usual  in  intercourse  with  a  stranger, 
whose  appearance  induces  an  anxiety  to  avoid  a 
more  intimate  acquaintance  with  him.  The  old 
man  did  not  seem  to  notice  the  coolness  of  his 
reception,  but  continued :  *  What  think  you  of 
this?'  taking  from  his  pocket  a  golden  watch  richly 
chased,  and  studded  all  over  with  diamonds. 

The  students  were  delighted  with  the  splendid 
jewel,  and  admired  by  turns  the  beauty  of  the 
manufacture  and  the  costliness  of  the  materials. 
The  elder  youth,  however,  found  it  impossible  to 
refrain  from  bestowing  one  or  two  suspicious 
glances  on  the  individual  whose  outward  man  but 
little  accorded  with  the  possession  of  so  valuable  a 
treasure. 

He  must  be  a  thief  and  have  stolen  this  watch, 
thought  the  sceptical  student.  *  I  will  observe 
him  closely.' 

But  as  he  bent  his  eyes  again  upon  the  stranger, 


435 

he  met  the  old  man's  look,  and  felt,  he  knew  not 
why,  somewhat  daunted  by  it.  He  turned  aside, 
and  walked  from  his  companion  a  few  paces. 

1 1  would/  thought  he,  •  give  my  folio  Plato,  with 
all  old  Blunderdrunck's  marginal  comments,  to 
know  who  this  old  man  is,  whose  look  has  startled 
me  thus,  with  his  two  great  hyaena-looking  eyes, 
that  shoot  through  one  like  a  flash  of  lightning. 
He  looks  for  all  the  world  like  at  ravelling  quack- 
doctor,  with  his  threadbare  cloak  and  his  sugar- 
loaf  hat,  and  yet  he  possesses  a  watch  fit  for  an 
emperor,  and  talks  to  two  burschen  as  if  they  were 
his  boon  companions.' 

On  returning  to  the  spot  where  he  had  left  bis 
friend,  he  found  him  still  absorbed  in  admiration 
of  the  watch.  The  old  man  stood  by,  his  great 
eyes  still  riveted  upon  the  student,  and  a  some- 
thing, not  a  smile,  playing  over  his  sallow  and 
furrowed  countenance. 

'  You  seem  pleased  with  my  watch/  said  the 
little  old  man  to  Theophan  Guscht,  the  younger 
student,  who  continued  his  fixed  and  longing  gaze 
on  the  beautiful  bauble :  *  Perhaps  you  would  like 
to  become  its  owner  V 

'  Its  owner!1  said  Theophan,  'ah,  you  jest;' — 
and  he  thought,  *  what  a  pretty  present  it  would  be 
for  Thyrza  on  our  wedding-day.' 

'  Yes,'  replied  the  old  man,  *  its  owner — I  am 
myself  willing  to  part  with  it.  What  offer  do  you 
make  me  for  it  ?' 

'  What  offer,  indeed ;  as  if  I  could  afford  to 
purchase  it.  There  is  not  a  burche  in  our  university 
who  would  venture  to  bid  a  price  for  so  precious  a 
jewel.' 


436 

4  Well  then,  you  will  not  purchase  my  watch  V 
Theophan  shook  his  head,  half  mournfully. 
4  Nor  you   Mein    Herr?'    turning  to  the  other 
student. 

*  Nein,'  was  the  brief  negative. 

'  But,'  said  the  old  man,  again  addressing  Theo- 
phan, *  were  I  to  offer  you  this,  watch — a  free 
present — you  would  not  refuse  it  perhaps  ?' 

*  Perhaps  I  should  not:  perhaps,  which  is  yet 
more  likely — you  will  not  put-  it  in  my  power. 
But  we  love  not  jesting  with  strangers/ 

*  It  is  rarely  that  I  jest,'  returned  the  old  man ; 
*  those  with  whom  I  do,  seldom  retort*  But  say 
the  word,  and  the  watch  is  yours.'    -   . 

*  Do  you  really,'  exclaimed  Theophan,  his  voice 
trembling  with  joyful  surprise — *  do  you  leally  say 
so !  Ach  Gott ! — Himmell !  what  shall  I — how  can 
I  sufficiently  thank  you  V 

1  It  matters  not,'  said  the  old  man,  *  you  are 
welcome  to  it.  There  is,  however,  one  condition 
annexed  to  the  gift.' 

*  A  condition — what  is  it  ?' 

The  elder  student  pulled  Theophan  by  the 
sleeve  :  *  accept  not  his  gifts/  he  whispered ;  *  come 
away,  I  doubt  him  much.'    And  he  walked  on. 

'  Stay  a  moment,  Jans,'  said  Theophan ;  but  his 
companion  continued  his  steps.  Theophan  was 
undecided  whether  or  not  he  should  follow  him; 
but  he  looked  at  the  watch,  thought  of  TTiyrza, 
and  remained. 

4  The  condition  on  which  you  accept  this  bauble 
— the  condition  on  which  others  have  accepted  it- 
is,  that  you  wind  it  up  every  night,  for  a  year, 
before  sunset.' 


437 

The  student  laughed.  'A  mighty  condition, 
truly — give  me  the  watch.. 

'  Or,'  continued  the  old  man,  without  heeding  the 
interruption,  4  if  you  fail  in  fulfilling  the  condition, 
you  die  within  six  hours  after  the  stopping  of  the 
watch.  It  will  stop  at  sunset,  if  not  wound  up 
before/ 

'  I  like  not  that  condition,'  said  Theophan.  '  Be 
patient — I  must  consider  your  offer/ 

He  did  so ;  he  thought  of  the  easiness  of  avoiding 
the  possible  /calamity ;  he  thought  of  the  beauty  of 
the  watch-— above  all,  he  thought  of  Thyrza,  and 
his  wedding-day.' 

'Pshaw!  why  do  I  hesitate,'  said  he  to  himself; 
then  turning  to  the  old  man,  '  Give  me  the  watch — 
I  agree  to  your  condition.' 

1  You  are  to  wind  it  up  before  sunset  for  a  year, 
or  die  within  six  hours.' 

4  So  thou  hast  said,  and  I  am  content ;  and 
thanks  for  thy  gift.' 

'  Thank  me  at  the  year's  end,  if  hou  wilt,'  re- 
plied the  old  man,  '  meanwhile,  farewell.' 

*  Farewell !  I  doubt  not  to  be  able  to  render  my 
thanks  at  the  end  of  the  term.' 

Theophan  was  surprised,  as  he  pronounced  these 
words,  to  perceive  that  the  old  man  was  gone. 

*  Be  he  who  he  may,  I  fear  him  not,'  said  he,  *  I 
know  the  terms  on  which  I  have  accepted  his  gift. 
— What  a  fool  was  Jans  Herwest  to  refuse  his  offer 
so  rudely/ 

He  quitted  the  spot  on  which  he  stood,  and 
moved  homewards.  He  entered  Jena,  sought  his 
lodging,  put  by  his  watch,  and,  lighting  his  lamp, 
opened  his  friend's  folio  Plato,  (with  Blunder- 


438 

drunck's  marginal  comments,)  and  endeavoured  to 
apply  to  the  Symposion.  But  in  ten  minutes  he 
closed  the  book  with  impatience,  for  his  excited 
mind  rejected  the  philosophic  feast;  and  he  strolled 
into  the  little  garden  which  his  chamber-window 
commanded,  to  think  of  the  events  of  the  evening, 
and,  with  a  lover's  passion,  to  repeat  and  bless  the 
name  of  his  Thyrza. 

Time  waned,  and  the  watch  was  regularly  wound 
up.  Love  smiled,  for  Thyrza  was  not  cruel.  Our 
bursche  had  resumed  his  studies,  and  was  in  due 
time  considered  as  one  of  the  most  promising 
students  of  the  whole  University  of  Jena. 

But,  as  we  already  observed,  time  flew  apace ; 
and  the  day  but  one  before  the  happy  day  that  was  to 
give  to  Theophan  his  blooming  bride,  had  arrived— 
which  had  been  looked  forward  to  with  such  joyful 
anticipations,  and  Theophan  had  bidden  adieu  to 
most  of  his  fellow  students,  and  taken  leave  of  the 
learned  professors  whose  lectures  he  had  attended 
with  so  much  benefit.  It  was  a  fine  morning,  and, 
being  at  leisure,  he  bethought  him  in  what  manner 
he  should  pass  the  day.  Any  novice  can  guess 
how  the  problem  was  solved.  He  would  go  and 
visit  Thyrza. 

He  set  out  accordingly,  and  was  presently  before 
the  gate  of  David  Angerstell's  garden.  A  narrow, 
pebbled  walk  intersected  it,  at  the  top  of  which 
stood  the  house,  an  old  quaint  black  and  white 
building,  with  clumsy  projecting  upper  stories,  that 
spread  to  almost  twice  the  extent  of  the  foundation. 
A  quantity  of  round,  dropsical-looking  flower-pots 
were  ranged  on  either  side  of  the  door.  The  case- 
ment of  a  projecting  window  was  open  to  receive 


439 

the  light  breezes  that  blew  across  the  flower  beds, 
at  which  a  young  female  was  seated— a  beautiful, 
taper-waisted  girl,  with  a  demure,  intelligent  coun- 
tenance, light  twining  hair,  and  a  blue,  furtively 
laughing  eye.  True  as  fate,  that  blue  eye  bad 
caught  a  glimpse  of  her  approaching  lover.  In  a 
moment  he  was  by  her  side,  and  kissed  with  eager 
lips  the  soft  little  white  hand  that  seemed  to  melt 
in  his  pressure. 

The  lovers  met  in  all  the  confiding  tenderness  of 
mutual  affection ;  happy  mortals  !  the  moments  flew 
fast — fast-*— so  fast  that— But  let  us  take  time. 

They  had  strolled  out  into  the  garden ;  for  the 
considerate  parents  of  Thyrza  had  shown  no  dis- 
position to  interrupt  their  discourse  further  than 
by  a  mere  welcome  to  their  intended  son-in-law. 
The  evening  was  one  of  deep,  full  stillness — that 
rich,  tranquil  glow,  that  heightens  and  purifies 
happiness,  and  deprives  sorrow  of  half  its  bitter- 
ness. Thought  was  all  alive  within  their  breasts, 
and  the  eloquence  of  words  seemed  faint  to  the 
tide  of  feeling  that  flashed  from  their  eyes. 

Theophan  and  Thyrza  rambled,  and  looked,  and 
whispered — and  rambled,  looked,  and  whispered 
again  and  again — and  time  ambled  too  gently  for 
his  motion  to  be  perceived.  The  maiden  looked 
on  the  sky:  '  How  beautiful  the  sun  has  set/ 
said  she. 

'  The  sun  set !'  echoed  Theophan,  with  a 
violence  that  terrified  his  companion — *  the  sun 
sett  then  I  am  lost  I  We  have  met  for  the  last 
time,  Thyrza.' 

'  Dearest  Theophan,'  replied  the  trembling  girl, 
4  why  do  you  terrify  me  thus  ?    Met  for  the  last 


410 

time  !  Oh  !  no,  it  cannot  be.  What !  what  calls 
thee  hence  V 

*  He  calls  who  must  be  obeyed — but  six  short 
hours — and  then,  Thyrza,  wilt  thou  bestow  one 
thought  on  my  memory  ?' 

She  spoke  not — moved  not : — senseless  and  in- 
animate she  lay  in  his  arms,  pale  and  cold  as  a 
marble  statue,  and  beautiful  as  a  sculptor's  dream. 
Theophan  bore  her  swiftly  to  the  house,  placed 
her  on  a  couch,  and  called  for  assistance.  He 
listened,  and  heard  approaching  footsteps  obeying 
the  summons — pressed  his  lips  to  her  cold  forehead, 
and,  springing  from  the  casement,  crossed  the 
garden,  and  in  ten  minutes  was  buried  in  the 
obscurity  of  a  gloomy  wood,  or  rather  thicket, 
some  mile  or  thereabouts  from  Jena. 

Overcome  by  the  passionate  affliction  that  fevered 
his  blood  and  throbbed  in  every  pulse,  Theophan 
threw  himself  down  on  a  grassy  eminence,  and  lay 
for  some  time  in  that  torpid  state  of  feeling  in 
which  the  mind,  blunted  by  sudden  and  over- 
whelming calamity,  ceases  to  be  aware  of  the 
horrors  of  its  situation,  and,  stunned  into  a  mockery 
of  repose,  awaits  almost  unconsciously  the  con- 
summation of  evil  that  impends  it. 

Theophan  was  attracted  from  this  lethargy  by 
the  plashing  rain,  which  fell  upon  him  in  large 
thunder-drops.  He  looked  around,  and  found  him- 
self in  almost  total  darkness.  The  clouded  sky, 
the  low,  deep  voice  of  the  wind,  booming  through 
the  trees  and  swaying  their  high  tops,  bespoke  the 
approaching  storm.  It  burst  upon  him  at  length 
in  all  its  fury !  Theophan  hailed  the  distraction, 
for  the  heart  loves  what  assimilates  to  itself,  and 


441 

his  was  wrung  almost  to  breaking  with  agony.    He 
stood  up  and  sbotated  to  the  raging  dements  I     He 
paused,  and  listened,  for  he  thought  some  one  re- 
plied.   He  shouted  again,  but  it  was  not  this  time 
in  mere  recklessness.      Amid  the  howling  of  the 
tempest  he  once  more  heard  an  answering  shout : 
there  was  something  strange  in  the  voice  that  could 
thus  render  itself  audible   above  the  din   of  the 
storm.     Again  and  again  it  was  the  same ;    once  it 
seemed  to  die  away  into  a  fiend-like  laugh.     Theo- 
phan'8  blood  curdled  as  it  ran— aiid  hifc  mood  of 
desperation  Was  exchanged  for  one  of  deep,  fearful, 
and  overstrained  attention. 

The  tempest  suddenly  ceased ;  the  thunder  died 
away  in  faint  and  distant  moanings,  and  the  light- 
ning flashes  became  less  frequent  and  vivid.  The 
last  of  these  showed  Theophart  that  he  was  not 
alone.  Within  his  arm's  reach  stood  a  little  old 
man:  he  wore  a  conical  hat — leaned  on  a  gold- 
headed  cane — above  all,  he  had  a  pair  of  large 
glaring  eyes,  that  Theophan  bad  no  difficulty  in 
instantly  recognizing. 

When  the  momentary  flash    had  subsided,  Xhe 
student  and  his  companion  were  left  in  darkness, 
and  Tfoecphan  could  with  difficulty  discern  the 
form  of  his  companion. 
There*  was  a  long  silence. 
'  Do  you  remember  me  V   at  length  interrogated 
the  tityjteriOus  stranger. 
4  Perfectly t  replied  the  student. 
'  Thai  i*  well — I  thought  you  might  have  for- 
gotten me ;  wits  have  short  memories.  But  perhaps 
ftm  &*>  M>t  tepwe  to  the  character.' 

3  K 


442 

4  You,  at  least,  must  be  aware  1  have  no  claim  to 
it,  otherwise  I  had  not  been  the  dupe  I  am.' 

*  That  is  to  say,  you  have  made  a  compact, 
broken  your  part  of  it,  and  are  now  angry  that  you 
are  likely  to  be  called  upon  for  the  penalty.  What 
is  the  hour  ?' 

'  I  know  not— I  shall  shortly.' 

*  Does  she  know  of  this  ?  you  know  whom  1 
mean.' 

*  Old  man!'  exclaimed  Theophan,  fiercely,  'be- 
gone. I  have  broken  the  agreement — that  I  know. 
I  must  pay  the  penalty— of  that  too  I  am  aware, 
and  am  ready  so  to  do ;  but  my  hour  is  not  yet 
come :  torment  me  not,  but  leave  me.  I  would 
await  my  doom  alone.' 

*  Ah,  well— I  can  make  allowances.  You  are 
somewhat  testy  with  your  friends ;  but  that  we  will 
overlook.  Suppose  now,  the  penalty  you  have 
incurred  could  be  pretermitted.' 

The  student  replied  with  a  look  of  incredulous 
scorn. 

*  Well,  I  see  you  are  sceptical,'  continued  the 
old  man ;  «  but  consider.  You  are  young,  active, 
well  gifted  in  body  and  in  mind.' 

'  What  is  that  to  thee?  still  more,  what  is  it  to 
me-  nowV 

'  Mucli :  but  do  not  interrupt  me.  You  love,  and 
are  beloved.' 

'  I  tell  thee  again,  cease  and  begone  to — heUP 

*  Presently  I  You  are  all  of  these  now— what 
will  you  be,  what  will  Thyrza  Angerstell  be,  to- 
morrow V 

The  student's  patience  was  exhausted;  he  sprang 
on  the  old  man,  intending  to  dash  him  to  the  earth. 


443 

He  might  as  well  have  tried  his  strength  on  one 
of  the  stunted  oaks  that  grew  beside  him.  The 
old  man  moved  not— not  the  fraction  of  an  inch. 

'Thou  hast  wearied  thyself  to  little  purpose, 
friend,'  said  he;  'we  will  now,  if  it  pleases  you, 
proceed  to  business.  You  would  doubtless  be 
willing  to  be  released  from  the  penalty  of  your 
neglect  V 

•  Probably  1  might/ 

*  You  would  even  be  willing  that  the  lot  should 
fall  upon  another  in  preference  to  yourself?' 

The  student  paused. 

'  No :  I  am  content  to  bear  the  punishment  of 
my  own  folly.  And  still— oh,  Thyrzal'  He  groaned 
in  the  agony  of  his  spirit. 

'What!  with  the  advantages  you  possess!  the 
prospect  before  you— the  life  of  happiness  you 
might  propose  to  yourself— and  more,  the  happiness 
you  might  confer  on  Thyrza— with  all  these  in  your 
reach,  you  prefer  death  to  life  ?  How  many  an  old 
and  useless  being,  upon  whom  the  lot  might  fall, 
would  hail  joyfully  the  doom  which  you  shudder 
even  to  contemplate/ 

'Stay— were  1  to  embrace  your  offer,  how  must 
the  lot  be  decided— to  whom  must  I  transfer  my 
punishment  V 

*  Do  this— your  term  will  be  prolonged  twenty- 
four  hours.  Send  the  watch  to  Adrian  Wenzel, 
the  goldsmith,  to  sell ;  if,  within  that  time,  he  dis- 
pose of  it,  the  purchaser  takes  your  place,  and  you 
will  be  free.  But  decide  quickly— my  time  is  brief, 
yours  also  must  be  so,  unless  you  accede  to  my  terms.' 

•  But  who  are  you  to  whom  is  given  the  power  of 
life  and  death—of  sentencing  and  reprieving?' 


444 

.  '  Seek  not  to  know  of  what  concerns  you  not 
-Oijce  more,  do  you  agree  V 

'  First,  tell  yne  what  is  your  motive  in  offering 
me  this  chance?' 

'  Motive  ?— none.  I  am  naturally  compassionate. 
But  decide— there  is  a  leaf  trembling  on  yonder 
bough,  it  will  fall  in  a  moment  If  it  reach  the 
ground  before  you  determine— Farewell V 

The  leaf  dropped  from  the  tree.  6 1  consent. r 
exclaimed  the  student.  He  looked  for  the  old 
man,  but  found  that  he  was  alone.  At  the  same 
time  the  toll  of  the  midnight  clock  sounded  on  his 
ear :  it  ceased— the  hour  was  passed,  and  fie  lived  I 

It  was  about  the  noon  of  the  following  day  that 
the  goldsmith,  Adrian  Wenzel,  sold  to  a  customer 
the  most  beautiful  watch  in  Jena.  Having  com- 
pleted the  bargain,  he  repaired  immediately  to 
Theophan  Guscht's  lodgings. 

'  Well,  have  you  sold  my  watch  V 

' 1  have — here  is  the  money,  Mein  Herr.' 

*  Very  well :  there  is  your  share  of  tf&e  proceeds/ 

The  goldsmith  departed,  and  Theophan  shortly 
afterwards  directed  his  steps  towards  Angerstell's 
house,  meditating  as  he  went  on  his  probable  re- 
ception, and  what  he  could  offer  in  extenuation  of 
his  behaviour  the  day  before. 

Ere  he  had  settled  this  knotty  point  to  his  satis- 
faction, he  arrived  at  the  garden  gate.  He  hesitated 
—grew  cold  and  hot  by  turns— his  heart  throbbed 
violently.  At  last,  making  a  strong  effort  at 
self  command,  he  entered. 

At  the  same  window,  in  the  same  posture  in 
which  he  had  seen  her  the  day  before,  sat  Thywa 
Angerstell.      But   the   Thyrza  of  yesterday   was 


445 

blooming,  smiling,  and  cheerfol— to-day  she  was 
pale  and  wan,  the  image  of  hopeless  sorrow ;  even 
as  a  rose  which  some  rode  hand  has  severed  from 
its  stem.  Theophan's  blood  grew  chill;  he  pro- 
ceeded, and  had  almost  reached  the  porch  of  the 
house  when  Thyrza  perceived  him.  With  a  loud 
cry  she  fell  from  her  seat  He  rushed  into  the 
room,  and  raised  her  in  his  arms. 

She  recovered— she  spoke  to  him.  She  re- 
proached him  for  the  agony  he  had  needlessly 
caused  her  by  his  cruel  conduct  the  evening  before. 
He  obtained  a  hearing,  and  explained  just  as  much 
of  the  history  of  the  watch  as  related  to  its  pur- 
chase, and  the  condition  annexed  to  it*  This  he 
asserted  was  a  mere  trick  of  the  donor,  he  having 
broken  the  condition  and  being  yet  alive.  They 
wondered,  he  with  affected,  and  she  with  real  sur- 
prise, that  any  one  should  have  been  tempted  to 
part  with  so  valuable  a  watch  for  the  kite  satis- 
faction of  terrifying  the  recipient.  However,  love 
is  proverbially  credulous ;  Theophan's  explanation 
was  believed,  and  the  reconciliation  was  complete. 

The  lovers  had  conversed  about  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  when?  Thyrza  suddenly  reverted  again  to  the 
subject  of  the  watch. 

*  It  is  strange,1  said  she,  '  that  I  too  am  connected 
with  a  watch  similar  to  yours/ 

*  How— by  what  means  V 

*Last  night  1  lay  sleepless— 'twas  your  unkind  - 
new,  Theophan— 

Theophan  hastened  to  renew  his  vows  and  sup- 
plications. 

*  Ah,  well  1  you  know  I  have  forgiven  you.  But 
as  I  lay,  the  thought  of  a  watch,  such  as  you  de- 


446 

scribe,  presented  itself  to  my  mind ;  how,  or  why, 
I  cannot  guess.  It  haunted  me  the  whole  night, 
and  when  I  rose  this  morning  it  was  before  me  still.' 
'  What  followed,  dear  Thyrza?'  enquired  the 
anxious  student. 

*  Listen,  and  you  shall  hear.  Thinking  to  drive 
away  this  troublesome  guest,  I  walked  out.  I  had 
scarcely  left  my  home  two  minutes  when  I  saw  a 
watch,  the  exact  counterpart  of  my  ideal  one.' 

*  Where— where  did  you  see  it  V 

'  At  our  neighbour's,  Adrian  Wenzers.' 

'  And— you— you !'  His  words  almost  choked 
him. 

1 1  was  impelled  by  some  inexplicable  motive- 
not  that  I  wanted  or  wished  for  so  expensive  a 
jewel — to  purchase  this  watch.' 

1  No — no V  exclaimed  the  agonized  student,  *  you 
could  not  do  so V  He  restrained  himself  by  an 
exertion  more  violent  than  he  had  believed  himself 
capable  of.  He  rose  from  his  seat  and  turned 
away  his  face. 

Not  now,  as  before,  did  his  anguish  vent  itself  in 
passion  and  violence.  It  seemed  that  the  infliction 
was  too  heavy,  too  superhuman  a  calamity  to  be 
accompanied  by  the  expression  of  ordinary  emo- 
tions. He  was  deadly  pale— but  his  eye  was  firm, 
and  he  trembled  not. 

'Theophan,'  said  his  mistress,  'what  ails  you? 
and  why  should  'what  I  have  said  produce  so  fear- 
fu  1  an  effect  upon  you  ?     I  shall 

'  It  is  nothing— nothing,  dearest  Thyrza.  I  will 
return  instantly,  and  tell  you  why  I  have  appeared 
so  discomposed.  I  am  not  quite  myself— I  shall 
return  almost  immediately.     I  will  walk  but  into 


447 

the  lane,  and  catch  a  breath  of  the  fresh  breeze  as 
it  comes  wafted  from  the  water.9 

He  left  her,  and  passed  out  of  the  garden.  '  I 
could  not/  said  he  inwardly,  '  tell  her  that  she  was 
murdered— and  by  me  too !' 

He  hastened  on  without  an  object,  and  scarcely 
knowing  whither  he  was  directing  his  steps,  passed 
down  the  path  which  led  by  Angerstell's  house,  in 
that  depth  of  despair  which  is  sometimes  wont  to 
deceive  us  with  the  appearance  of  calmness*  He 
had  no  distinct  idea  of  the  calamity  he  had  brought 
upon  Thyrza— even  she  was  almost  forgotten ;  and 
nothing  but  a  vague  apprehension  of  death,  con- 
nected in  some  unintelligible  manner  with  himself, 
was  present  to  his  mind.  So  deep  was  the  stupe- 
faction in  which  he  was  involved,  that  it  was  not 
until  some  one  on  the  road  had  twice  spoken  to 
him,  that  he  heard  the  question. 

'  What  is  the  time  of  day  V 

Theophan  looked  round,  and  encountered  the 
large,  horribly-laughing  eyes  of  the  giver  of  the  fatal 
watch.  He  was  about  to  speak,  but  the  old  man 
interrupted  him. 

'I  have  no  time  to  listen  to  reproaches:  you 
know  what  you  have  incurred.  If  you  would  avoid 
the  evil,  and  save  Thyrza,  I  will  tell  you  how/ 

He  whispered  in  the  student's  ear.  The  latter 
grew  pale  for  a  moment,  but  recovered  himself. 

'  She  shall  be  safe,'  said  he,  '  if  I  accept  your 

terms  ?    No  equivocation  now— I  have  learnt  with 

whom  I  deal.' 
'  Agree  to  what  I  have  said,  and  fetch  hither  the 

watch  within  half  an  hour,  and  she  is  delivered 

from  her  doom.    She  shall  be  yours,  and—' 


448 

•  Promise  no  more,  or  give  thy  promises  to  those 
who  value  them.  Swear  that  she  shall  be  safe !  1 
request  no  more— wish  for  no  more  on  earth.9 

1  Swear !'  repeated  the  old  man ;  by  what  shall  J 
swear j  I  pr'ythee?  But  I  promise— begone  and 
fetch  the  watch— remember,  half  an  hour;  and, 
hark !  thou  accedest  to  my  terms  V 

'I  do!9 

So  saying,  Theophan  sped  back  to  the  house, 
unchecked  even  by  the  loud  laugh  that  seemed  to 
echo  after  him.  He  had  walked  farther  than  he 
had  any  idea  of,  and  swiftly  as  he  sprang  over  every 
impediment  to  his  course,  one-third  of  the  allotted 
time  had  elapsed  before  he  reached  the  room  in 
which  he  had  left  his  beloved. 

It  was  empty  I 

'  Thyrza !  Thyrza V  shouted  the  student—'  the 
watch  !  the  watch  !  for  Heaven's  sake,  the 
watch  V 

The  reverberation  of  his  voice  from  the  walls 
alone  replied. 

He  then  rushed  from  chamber  to  chamber,  in  a 
state  of  mind  little  short  of  desperation.  He  de- 
scended into  the  garden ;  the  dull  ticking  of  the 
family  clock  struck  on  his  ear  as  he  passed  it,  and 
he  shuddered.  At  the  extremity  of  the  principal 
walk  he  beheld  Thyrza. 

'  The  watch !   the  watch !   as  you  value  your  life 

and  '  my but    haste,    haste — not    a   word-a 

moment's  delay  is  death  /' 

Without  speaking,  Thyrza  flew  to  the  house,  ac- 
companied by  Theophan. 

'  It  is  gone,'  said  she ;  I  left  it  here,  and- 

*  Then  we  are  lost !  foigive  thy—-' 


440 

1  Oh !  no,  no,  it  is  here/  exclaimed  she,  '  dearest 

Theopban !   but  why ' 

He  listened  not  even  to  the  voice  of  Thyrza ;  one 
kiss  on  her  forehead,  one  look  of  anguish,  and  he 
was  gone ! 

He  sped  I  he  flew ! — he  arrived  at  the  spot  where 
he  had  left  the  old  man.  The  place  was  solitary ; 
but  on  the  sand  were  traced  the  words— 7*^1  time 
u  past  I 
The  student  fell  senseless  on  the  earth. 
When  he  recovered  he  found  himself  on  a  couch 
—affectionate  but  mournful  glances  were  bent  upon 
him. 

1  Thyrza !  Thyrza  !'  exclaimed  the  wretched 
youth,  '  away  to  thy  prayers !  but  a  soul  like  thine 
has  nought  to  repent.  Oh  !  leave  me — that  look ! 
go,  go !' 

She  turned  away,  and  wept  bitterly.  Her  mother 
entered  the  room. 

1  Thyrza,  my  love,  come  with  me.     The  phy- 
sician is  here/ 
•  What  physician,  mother  ?  is  it — ' 
'  No,  he  was  from  home,  this  is  a  stranger ;  but 
there  is  no  time  to  lose/    She  led  her  daughter 
from  the  apartment.      '  Your  patient  is  in  that 
room/  she  added,  to  the  physician.     He  entered, 
and  closed  the  door. 

The  mother  and  daughter  had  scarcely  resiched 
the  stair-head,  when  a  cry,  which  was  almost  a  yell 
of  agony,  proceeding  from  the  chamber  they  had 
left,  interrupted  their  progress.  It  was  followed 
by  a  loud  and  strange  laugh,  that  seemed  to  shake 
the  building  to  its  foundation. 

Tfce  mother  called,  or  rather  screamed,  for  her 

3  l 


450 

husband ;  the  daughter  sprang  to  the  door  of  the 
patient's  chamber  !  It  was  fastened,  and  defied 
her  feeble  efforts  to  open  it.  From  within  rose  the 
noise  of  a  fearful  struggle — the  brief  exclamations 
of  triumph,  or  of  rage — the  groan  of  pain — the 
strong  stamp  of  heavy  feet — all  betokening  a  death- 
grapple  between  the  inmates.  Suddenly,  some- 
thing was  dashed  upon  the  ground  with  violence, 
which,  from  the  sound,  appeared  to  have  been 
broken  into  a  thousand  pieces. 

There  was  a  dead  silence,  more  appalling  thaj 
the  brunt  of  the  contest.  The  door  resisted  no 
longer. 

Thyrza,  with  her  father  and  mother,  entered  the 
room :  it  was  perfectly  desolate.  On  the  floor  were 
scattered  innumerable  fragments  of  the  fatal  watch. 
Theophan  waslieard  of  no  more. 

On  the  fifth  day  from  this  terrible  catastrophe,  a 
plain  flag  of  white  marble  in  the  church  at  — , 
recorded  the  name,  age,  and  death  of  Thyrza 
Angerstell.  The  inscription  is  now  partly  obliter- 
ated; so  much  so  as,  in  all  probability,  to  baffle 
the  curiosity  of  any  gentle  stranger  who  may  wish 
to  seek  it  out,  and  drop  a  tear  on  the  grave  of  her 
who  sleeps  beneath. 


Respecting  man,  whatever  wrong  we  call, 

May,  must  be  right,  as  relative  to  all. 

In  human  works,  though  laboured  on  with  pain, 

A  thousand  movements  scarce  one  purpose  gain ; 

In  God's,  one  single  can  its  end  produce ; 

Yet  serves  to  second  too  some  other  use. 

So  man,  who  here  seems  principal  alone, 

Perhaps  acts  second  to  some  sphere  unknown  , 

Touches  some  wheel,  or  verges  to  some  goal ; 

'Tis  but  a  part  we  see,  and  not  a  whole/*  P©»* 


461 


ASTROLOGICAL  CONVERSATIONS. 

No.  II. 

TAKEN  FROM  THE  MEMORANDA  OP  THE  MBRGURII. 

Present,  Raphael;  and  Members. 

Raphael.  "  All  hail  to  you,  brother  students  ; 
well  met,  once  more  in  the  Temple  of  Science : 
what  discussions  are  to  be  proposed  by  our  worthy 
President !" 

President.  "  Allow  me  to  produce  the  nativity 
of  a  lady,  whose  name  has,  1  believe,  been  most 
foully  and  unjustly  calumniated;  but  in  which,  1 
believe,  when  the  attention  of  the  Society  has  been 
gained,  there  are  many  evident  signs  of  strong 
mental  powers,  and  of  real  genius." 

II .  B.  "  May  I  anticipate  our  worthy  President 
by  observing,  that  female  genius  (notwithstanding 
the  tribe  of  puerile,  half- Parnassian,  Poetesses  of  our 
time,  who  load  *  Keepsakes,'  '  Gems,'  *  Souvenirs/ 
&c.,  &c.  with  their  lucubrations)  is  extremely  rare, 
even  in  the  age  of  puffing.  The  nativity  is  of 
course  the  more  acceptable." 

Omnes.  "  Of  course ;  and  a  scientific  treat  to 
this  assembly." 

Capt.  B.  "  Although  a  devoted  admirer  of  the 
fair  and  gentle  sex,  I  am  fain  to  say,  the  effusions 
with  which  our  periodical  publications  are  cram- 
med, are  fulsome. — I  presume,  Mercury  and  Venus 
have  but  little  to  do  with  our  modern  writers." 
//.  W.     u  Although  Colburn  would  make  us  be- 


462 


lieve  all  England  rings  with  the  praises  of  his 
coterie  of  writers,  with  Lady  Morgan  at  their 
head—" 

C.  L.  "I  crave  pardon  for  this  interruption,  I 
for  myself  esteem  Lady  M.'s  genius." 

H.  W.     "  And  so  do  I ;  but  I  like  not  egotism/1 

Capt.  B.  "  Nor  do  I ;  but  we  are  interrupting 
our  worthy  President,  I  fear." 

President.  "  Brother  students,  I  now  call  your 
candid  attention  to  the  horoscope  of  Her  Royal 
Highness,  the  Princess  Olive  of  Cumber- 
land. The  figure  was  given  to  me  by  herself. 
Here  is  the  scheme." 


453 

■ 

Copt.  B.  "  This  is  indeed  a  carious  nativity, 
and  as  such,  I  move  that  it  be  inserted  in  the 
archives  of  our  Society.  Presuming  the  horoscope 
to  be  correct,  there  is  a  position  in  the  scheme, 
which  at  once  establishes  the  cleverness  and  skill 
of  the  lady  in  question ;  I  mean  the  conjunction  of 
the  Moon  and  Mercury :  I  can  now  myself  believe 
what  our  worthy  President  has  named,  that  the 
lady  has  been  the  victim  of  some  manifest  hard- 
heartedness." 

Raphael.     "  Our  worthy  friend  speaks  truth ; 
observe,  brother  students,  the  aspect  of  Venus  with 
Herschel,  in  quartile  to  both  Saturn  and  Jupiter : 
who  can  count  upon  faithful  or  sincere  friends  with 
such  an  ominous  aspect  ?    And  I  am  led  to  believe, 
that  her  'Highness9  has  suffered  more  from  the 
treachery  of  her  own  sex,  than  from  any  other  class 
of  persons.    The  lord  of  the  ascendant  seems  to 
have  had  also  some  power  here,  for  you  will  per- 
ceive Saturn  governs  the  ascendant,  and  is  opposed 
to  the  lord  of  the  second ;  a  plain  reason  why  the 
aatrvi  has  been  so  tossed  about  by  the  whirls  of 
fortune.     Yet,  as  Jupiter  arises,  I  may  be  bold  to 
promise  a  perpetual  deliverance  from  difficulties. 
It  is  very  likely  that  the  year  1831  will  prove  of 
lasting  import  to  the  Princess,  since  Jupiter  m- 
gresses  his  radical  place,  and  sextiles  Sol,  Mercury, 
and  Luna.     I  trust  she  will  experience  a  rise  in  her 
fortunes,  ere  the  year  wane? ;  but  Saturn  returning  to 
his  own  sign  at  birth,  has  a  tendency  to  create  delay." 

Copt.  B.  "  Mars  in  the  second  house  ruling  the 
tenth,  is  a  presage  of  great  losses ;  but  will  give  a 
handsome  income,  annuity,  or  allowance,  from  one 
in  power.— Am  I  right,  Raphael  ?" 


464 

Raphael.  "  Although  Mars  invariably  causes 
profusion  of  money  when  so  placed,  he  is  symbolical 
of  much  good ;  and  I  hope,  sincerely,  his  presages 
will  be  fulfilled." 

President.  "  Here  are  some  memoranda  of 
'  directions,'  which  her  Royal  Highness,  I  remem- 
ber, told  me,  were  the  calculation  of  a  gentleman  at 
Cambridge  University. 

"  They  are  as  follows : — 


Years  Months 

0  to  the  a  of  J?        ... 

59 

©  to  the  *  of  % 

59 

8 

D  to  the  zodiacal   *    of  Fj 

with  latitude      .... 

02 

4 

D  to  the  a  of  %        ... 

62 

10 

0  to  the   *    of   T?   in  the 

64 

0 

©  to  th«  a  of  %        .     .     . 

65 

0 

©  to  the  *  of  £        .     .     < 

67 

2 

"  The  Princess  is  now  in  her  59th  year,  and  I  am 
myself  of  opinion,  that  the  approaching  arcs  are 
evidently  the  forerunners  of  some  remarkable  good 
fortune." 

Raphael.  "  Undoubtedly  they  are,  and  I  would 
only  hope  the  arcs  are  correctly  calculated." 

Capt.  B.  "  I  will  go  over  them  on  my  return  from 
my  next  voyage,  and  communicate  the  result  to  you, 
brother  students ;  unless  Raphael  would  favor  us  by 
placing  the  horoscope  on  his  zodiacal  Planisphere." 

Raphael.  "  I  will,  most  assuredly,  do  any  thing 
that  can  at  all  gratify  this  learned  Society." 

Omnes.  "  The  thanks  of  us  all,  Raphael,  are 
your  due." 

Raphael.  "  I  owe  this  Society,  each  and  indi- 
vidually, much  gratitude ;  a  gratitude  which  time 
itself  cannot  efface." 


455 

Capt.  B.  "  I  have  a  piece  of  information  in 
store  for  this  Society,  at  which  I  am  certain,  you 
will  envy  my  being  the  first  to  announcethe  intelli- 
gence.—Brother  students,  'THE  ROYAL  BOOK 
OF  FATE*/  has  at  length  appeared !  How  eagerly 
the  literary  world,  and  the  public  in  general  have 
devoured  its  contents,  I  need  scarcely  say  1  Its  Four 
1  Thousand  and  Ninety  curious  answers,  are  really 
i  ORACLES  !  what  more  can  I  say  T  Here,  gentle- 
men, and  fellow  students,  is  Raphael  $  said  work/' 

President.     "  In  the  name  of  each  member,  indi- 
vidually and  conjointly,  1  present  to  Raphael  the 
Scientific  Crown,'  which  we  have  long  prepared,  as 
a  reward  for  his  arduous  labors,  in  promulgating 
the  curious  work  now  before  us." 

Raphael.  "  That  its  mystical  influence  may  still 
further  stimulate  my  mind  to  the  pursuits  of  the 
divine  science,  to  which  I  have  allotted  my  days, 
through  weal  and  woe,  is  the  prayer  of  the  Society's 
most  humble  and  devoted  servant." 

President.  "  Gentlemen,  we  all  join  most  truly 
m  this  wish  of  our  Secretary.  But  I  cannot  con- 
clude, nor  dissolve  this  present  meeting,  without 
also  calling  your  attention  to  the  astonishing  in- 
stances of  foresight,  evinced  in  the  Hieroglyphic  of 
this  year's  'Prophetic  Messenger,'  (1830).  Well 
may  the  author  have  exclaimed, 

41  Furious  Mara,  thy  Jury  ttar. 
Warns  of  danger  from  afar  I 
While  thy  cruel  aspects  shew,        A 
Times  of  wretched  want  and  woe ! 
Strife  and  peril :  warlike  ire, 
Cor\flagratio%a  fierce  and  dirt  ! 
May  Hea?en  atert  thy  fatal  Are !" 

•  Published  by  J.  Knight,  ftl,  Paternoster  Rote,  London. 


456        # 

Raphael.  "  Gladly  would  I  have  consented, 
that  even  the  scientific  honors  this  night  bestowed 
upon  me,  had  been  withheld,  rather  than  my  poor 
unhappy  country  should  have  been  the  scene  of 
such  distress,  as  it  at  present  exhibits :  I  presume, 

tt)t  'firm  inHuente  of  tbt  malignant 

J$tA?0/  is  now  too  manifest  to  be  denied,  by  even 
the  casual  observer.  We  should,  1  believe,  in  vain 
search  over  the  pages  of  a  century's  records,  to 
trace  similar  events  to  the  present  evil  year." 

Omnes.  "  Y/esIwuld;  and  therefore,  RapJtael.  it 
serves  as  a  greater  instance  still,  of  your  singular 
foresight." 

President.  "A  good  flight  to  you  all,  brother 
students,  and  may  all  happy  Stars  and  Planets 
influence  your  destinies,  till  we  meet  again.— 
Raphael,  accept  our  obeisances. — Adieu." 


<k  In  heaven's  great  and  constant  effort  for  our 
welfare,  is  capitally  written  the  dignity  of  man. 
That  is  a  key  to  the  moral  world,  and  opens  and 
explains  the  reason  of  all  God's,  otherwise  myste- 
rious, conduct  in  it.  Every  step  of  which  is 
evidently  calculated  for  man's  present,  or  future 
felicity;  or  both.  The  long  shining  series,  the 
golden  chain  of  all  God's  marvellous  acts,  from  the 
beginning  to  the  close  of  time,  speaks  his  uninter- 
rupted regard  for  human  nature;  and  what  can 
more  loudly  proclaim  human  dignity  than  this  ?" 

Young's  Centaur  not  Fabulous. 


GEOMANCY. 

No.  V. 


THE    SENTENCE 


«?oniuiutio 


eatctt 


ICDCE. 


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3    N 


406 


THE    ASTROLOGER. 


No.  8. 


OBSERVATIONS  UPON  THB 


Brumal  Sngrtaa,  or  fSftinUt  Quarter, 


1830. 


BY  A  CORRESPONDENT. 


467 


To  the  Editor  of  the  Familiar  Astrologer. 

Sir, 
The  annexed  figure  is  the  map  of  the  heavens 
for   the  commencement  of  the  Winter  quarter. 
That  division  of  the  zodiac  distributed  to  Sagittary, 
ascends ;  and  that  to  Libra,  culminates.    Of  course, 
Jupiter  is  the  sovereign  of   the  horoscope,  and 
occupies,  in  company  with  Mercury,  Venus,  and 
Sol,  the   celestial  sign  Capricorn,  the  palace  of 
Saturn — a  position  which,  considered  abstractedly, 
is  but  imbecile;  yet,  as  he  is  angular,  and  possesses 
the  dignities  of  Luna  and  Saturn,  with  whom  he  is 
in  amicable  aspect,  and  also  those  of  Venus,  be- 
tween whom  and  Jupiter    no   radial    connexion 
exists,   his  weakness   is   rendered   strength,    and 
what  is  singular,  he  is  seated  in  the  exaltation  of 
Mare,  who  flings  towards  Jupiter  a  quadrate  ray. 
The  strength  of   his   benevolent  purposes  is  in- 
creased by  these  several  circumstances,  except  that 
of  his  claiming  the  dignities  of  Mars,  with  whom 
he  has  no  friendship.    The  Moon,  Venus,  Mars, 
and   Saturn,  have  therefore  wonderful  power  in 
Capricorn ;  and  the  good  and  the  evil  indicated  by 
their  aspects,  are  rendered  more  powerful  than  if 
they  had  no  dignities  in  the  sign;   and,  conse- 
quently, when  favoured  by  good,  or  beheld  by  evil 
aspects,  Jupiter  is  more  powerful  in  his  good  and 
evil   significations  ;   and  which  preponderate,  the 
good  or  the  bad,  is  difficult  to  decide.     The  com- 
bination of  four  planets  in  one  sign,  and  in  the 
ascendant,  I  cannot  but  regard  as  curious. 

Jupiter  is  significant  of  the  nation  at  large,  its 
pecuniary  affairs,  the  great  and  powerful,  both  in 


46b 

the  church  and  the  state,  the  established  religion, 
and  of  freedom.  He  designates  also,  the  honour, 
the  friends,  and  the  enemies  of  the  nation.  The 
application  of  the  Moon  to  a  sextile  of  Jupiter,  wil) 
produce  in  the  people  efforts  to  lighten  the  burdens 
that  press  upon  them,  as  contributors  to  the  revenue; 
to  obtain  greater  influence  in  the  legislature,  and 
among  legislators  ;  and  to  march  on  in  the  road  of 
freedom.  Her  rays  are,  however,  impregnated 
with  the  baneful  influence  of  Herschel,  raising  up 
obstacles,  delays,  and  unforeseen  contingencies,  ot 
an  unfortunate  nature.  And  I  behold  her  as  th< 
Herald  of  the  Lord,  proclaiming  to  more  than  tin 
usual  number  of  the  poor,  the  rich  also,  and  th< 
great,  and  the  powerful,  "Thou  shalt  die  and  no« 
live."  It  may  be,  that  the  King  will  experience 
bodily  indisposition :  but  of  this  I  am  not  certain 
But  what  is  more  awful,  the  grim  messenger  i 
working  his  purposes  by  unnatural  means ;  for 
foresee  suicides.  And  the  Moon  is  the  precurso 
of  evil,  in  regard  to  employment ;  for,  alas !  she  in 
timates  starvation  and  its  concomitant  train  of  woes 
She  has  not  reserved  for  England  only  her  dread 
ful  denunciations ;  but  some  neighbouring  nation? 
Portugal,  France,  and  continental  states  adjacen 
to  France,  as  Holland,  Rome  also,  are  compre 
hended  and  denounced.  I  bebold  the  sea  tern 
pestuous,  and  receiving  with  boisterous  eclat,  th 
victims  of  its  rage.  There  are  represented  by  her 
in  addition  to  her  other  significations,  sudden  am 
strange  casualties,  evil  in  their  kind.  But  he 
sextile  will  modify  the  banefulness  of  her  translate 
influence ;  but  for  this  sextile,  tremendously  awfr 
would  be  the  effects  of  her  affliction. 


400 

This  textile  ray,  is  probably  of  gam/ml  significa- 
tion ;  and  aa  the  Moon  represents,  by  nature  and 
position,  navigation  and  our  neighbours,  ahe  points 
oat  advantages  to  be  gained  from  these  sources. 
VenuSy  absorbed  in  her  glory  by  the  superior  splen- 
dour of  the  Sun,  and  sesquiquadrate  to  Taurus,  and 
Taurus  beheld  by  the  square  of  Herschel,  are  indi- 
cations not  favourable  to  the  prosperity  and  happi- 
ness of  the  sister  Kingdom.     But  better  times  for 
her  are  dawning ;  troubles,  great  mortality,  and 
perhaps  insurrections,  must  precede.     This  judg- 
ment I  found  upon  the  facts,  that  Venus  is  combust, 
that  she  is  in  trine  with  Saturn,  that  she  is  applying 
to  the  conjunction  of  Mercury,  to  the  square  of 
Mars,  and  to  the  conjunction  of  Jupiter ;    and 
Jupiter  being  besides,  located  in  a  sign  along  with 
her,  and* in  which  she  has  dignities.    From  this 
commixture  of  astral  agency,  may  result  the  death, 
or  the  scandal  of  some  lady ;  detraction,  treachery, 
and  unhappy  unions ;  females  will  in  general  he 
ohnoxious  to  Saturn,  the  greater  infortune  is  in 
the  8th  house  of  the  figure,  in  the  sign  Virgo,  on 
the  cu*p  of  the  9th,  into  which  he  no  sooner  gets, 
than  he  retraces  his  steps,  and  bends  his  course 
towards  Leo.       A   circumstance  this,   worthy  of 
notice.     He  is  the  bearer  of  many  summonses  to 
the  aged,  to  the  British  tars,  to  the  illustrious,  from 
this  transitory  and  probationary  scene.     Rome  and 
France  will  likewise  experience  the  desolating  rays 
of  Saturn.     And  as  the  8th,  is  the  5th  from  Aries, 
he  spares  not  the  young,  the  gay,  the  dissipated, 
the  talented,  nor  women  in  child-bearing.    And,  in 
short,  posited  as  he  is,  he  is  the  herald  of  calamities 
and  troubles.     Ruling  the  2d  of  the  figure,  and  the 


470 

abode  he  has  taken  up  being  the  5th  from  Aries, 
he  is  not  of  very  fortunate  import  to  speculators, 
to  those  particularly  who  speculate  in  money.  The 
aspects  of  which  he  is  the  recipient,  are  all  good :  he 
is  in  reception  with  Mercury,  and  the  latter  planet 
is  applying  to  the  square  of  Mars,  quintile  of  the 
Moon,  and  conjunction  of  Jupiter.  I  think,  that 
from  these  things,  there  is  plainly  betokened  the 
future  amelioration  of  the  condition  of  the  country ; 
Saturn  signifying  agriculture,  and  the  agriculturists 
themselves,  and  by  position  in  regard  to  sign, 
foreign  commerce.  The  annuals  cannot  be  very 
fortunate:  artists,  poets,  and  public  writers,  are 
exposed  to  evils,  to  controversy,  and  it  may  be, 
that  some  one  will  experience  prosecution.  Herschel 
in  the  2d!  in  semiquartile  to  the  Moon !  a  portent 
of  pecuniary  distress  existing  among  the  labouring 
classes.  Is  it  a  portent  of  another  "  late  panic?" 
Russia  needs  no  greater  affliction,  in  my  judgment, 
than  to  have  Herschel  on  its  ascendant :  a  country 
by  no  means  friendly  to  England,  her  ascendant 
afflicting  our  money-house.  The  square  of  Mars 
and  Jupiter — a  sad  aspect — the  great  must  be  pre- 
pared for  the  ills  Mars  has  in  store  for  them :  con- 
tention about  money  matters,  and  agricultural  sub- 
jects, of  no  good  import  to  the  military,  nor  to  our 
neighbours.  Is  this  aspect  an  indication  of  war ; 
or  of  some  difference  between  England  and  a 
neighbouring  state  ?  Patriot  is  a  term  in  general ; 
of  sham  importance — a  mere  epithet— that  de  facto, 
signifies  the  subserving  of  private  interests  to  the 
interests  of  a  party,  under  the  pretext  of  serving 
the  country.  The  truth  of  this,  will,  I  believe,  be 
experienced,   if  the  stars,   as   no   doubt  they  do, 


471 

speak  troth  in  regard  to  this  matter.      What  is 
there  to  do  in  regard  to  India  and  Turkey  ? 

Isaac  Sugden. 
Bradford,  Yorkshire,  Oct.  1,  1830. 


Till?     l?f  l?1M"l?'NrrQ     ni? 


JUDICIAL    ASTROLOGY. 

BY   THE   SAME   CORRESPONDENT. 

A  planet  is  debilitated  or  strengthened  by 
aspect.  This  accession  of  strength,  or  deduction 
from  it,  must  always  be  considered  ;  and  a  planet 
thus  invigorated  or  weakened,  must  be  judged  of 
as  it  would  be,  were  it  strong  by  essential  dignity, 
or  weak  from  the  want  of  it.  For  a  planet  bene- 
volently aspected,  is  as  strong  as  by  house,  or  ex- 
altation ;  and  unfavourably  aspected,  as  enervated 
as  by  essential  debility*. 

Planets  strong,  are  good  presages ;  planets  weak, 
are  bad  presages.  But  then  they  must  be  con- 
sidered in  regard  to  their  sovereign  prerogative, 
their  locality,  and  their  nature. 

Suppose  the  D  be  the  ruler  of  the  12th,  and 
posited  in  8  in  the  10th.  Here  the  J>  does  not 
signify  evil,  though  she  ig  the  ruler  of  an  evil 
house. 

Suppose  again  that  h  were  the  ruler  of  the  12th, 
and  in  the  10th  in  the  sign  ^,  his  exaltation.  The 
nature  of  this  fellow  is  evil,  let  him  be  where  he 

*  This  U  en  essential  Imth,  fit  to  be  noted.— Eb, 


472 

will.  But  however,  the  evil  is  mitigated,  of  rather, 
it  is  comparative,  owing  to  the  strength  he  posseeses 
in  *± .  His  government  and  position  would  seem 
to  imply  comparative  good*  rather  than  evil:  in 
other  words,  that  though  he  be  an  evil  planet,  and 
fond  of  an  evil  house,  yet  being  exalted  by  sign,  he 
is  significant  of  good ;  and  especially  is  he  a  good 
significator  of  any  thing  wherein  ?  is  concerned. 
It  follows,  that  a  planet  having  dignities  in  any 
house,  is  of  fortunate  signification,  in  what  respects 
that  house,  and  its  lord  or  lady. 

A  planet,  essentially  dignified  in  the  house  of 
another,  shows  friendship  and  mutual  assistance ; 
and  a  planet,  debilitated  in  the  house  of  another, 
is  indicative  of  hatred  and  hostility  between  them. 
Hence,  the  friendship  and  enmities  of  the 

PLANETS. 

The  planet  to  which  another  is  applying  must 
be  considered,  in  order  to  determine  the  issue  of 
the  thing  signified  by  the  applying  planet ;  and 
the  planet  -from  which  another  has  separated,  must 
also  be  duly  considered,  with  a  view  to  the  ascer- 
taining of  the  cause  of  that  which  is  past,  signified 
by  the  separating  planet. 

To  illustrate  the  1st  rule:  suppose  that  i?  be  the 
lord  of  the  2d  house,  and  posited  in  &,  but  in  sex- 
tile  aspect  with  %  or  ?  .  i?  is  now  strong  ;  for  by 
the  impression  of  the  beams  of  the  benevolent 
planet,  by  a  powerful  aspect,  he  is  as  powerful  a 
significator  of  good,  as  he  would  be,  were  he 
posited  in  4..  The  good  or  evil  betokened  by 
planets  must  be  inferred  from  their  nature,  their 
locality,  or  their  government. 

Planets  are  also  strengthened  or  weakened  by 


473 

house.  The  houses  of  the  heavens  are  angular, 
succeedent,  or  cadent.  Angles  are  the  most  power- 
ful in  the  production  of  either  good  or  evil.  Next 
to  them  in  power  are  the  succeedent  houses.  The 
cadent  are  the  weakest.  But  in  regard  to  houses, 
it  must  always  be  remembered,  that  a  planet, 
govern  what  house  soever  it  may,  angular,  succeed- 
ent, or  cadent,  is  most  powerful  in  that  house. 

It  is  of  the  utmost  importance,  to  consider  the 
strength  or  weakness  of  the  dispositors  of  the 
planets ;  for  a  planet,  by  locality,  may  be  extremely 
weak,  and  yet,  from  the  strength  of  the  ruler  of 
that  house,  good  is  indicated. 

It  must  not  be  supposed,  that  the  0,  »,  and  g, 
being  convertible  orbs,  that  therefore  their  strength 
or  weakness,  by  sign  or  aspect,  is  a  thing  of  no 
material  consequence.  On  the  contrary,  they  are, 
like  the  rest  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  fortunate  or 
unfortunate,  as  they  are  strong  or  weak,  irrespec- 
tively of  the  nature  of  the  planet  or  planets  in 
aspect  with  them. 

Planets  are  strong  or  weak  also,  as  they  are 
above  or  below  the  earth,  oriental  or  occidental, 
swift  or  slow  in  motion. 

Things  good  or  bad  are  orought  to  pass  by  the 
strength  or  weakness  of  the  planets,  essential  or 
derivative,  as  explained  above. 

Bad  houses,  having  rulers  of  evil  natures,  or 
possessed  by  unfortunate  planets,  are  rendered 
more  evil  in  signification ;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
having  rulers  of  benevolent  natures,  or  inhabited 
by  fortunate  planets,  their  evil  signification  is  miti- 
gated in  proportion  to  the  strength  of  the  benevo- 
lent governor,  or  of  the  benevolent  inhabitants. 

3o 


474 

Diseases.— The  ascendant  strong,  and  the  6th 
nouse  governed  by  a  benevolent,  or  possessed  by 
oenevolents,  and  the  d  in  aspect  with  fortunes, 
prenote  good  to  the  querent  in  respect  to  health, 
and  especially  if  the  lord  of  the  ascendant  has  dig- 
nities in  the  6th,  or  there  be  reception  between  the 
lords  of  the  1st  and  6th,  or  the  d  strong  in  a  sign 
governed  by  the  lord  of  the  1st,  or  in  which  the 
lord  of  the  1st  has  dignities.  But  if  the  ascendant 
be  afflicted,  evil,  with  reference  to  health,  is  indi- 
cated. If  the  ascendant  be  free  and  strong,  and 
the  6th  house  be  afflicted,  or  if  the  »  be  afflicted, 
no  matter  whether  she  rule  the  6th  house  or  not, 
indisposition  is  betokened.  Again,  sickness  is  in- 
timated, by  the  affliction  of  the  governor  of  the  1st 
by  the  ruler  of  the  6th.  From  the  ascendant, 
therefore,  the  6th  house,  and  the  ruler  thereof,  or 
the  d,  but  chiefly  from  that  which  most  afflicts,  is 
disease  inferred.  If  the  lord  of  the  ascendant  be 
afflicted  by  other  planets  than  these,  their  affliction 
is  not  indicative  of  disease,  but  of  evil,  denoted  by 
the  nature,  the  locality,  or  the  government  of  the 
afflicting  planets. 

J.  8—". 


"  Exactly  mark,  ye  rulers  of  mnnkind, 
The  ways  of  truth,  nor  be  to  justice  blind ; 
Consider,  all  ye  do,  and  all  ye  say, 
The  holy  demons  to  their  Ood  convey, 
Aerial  spirits,  by  great  Jove  designed 
To  be  on  earth  the  guardians  of  mankind, 
Invisible  to  mortal  eyes  they  go, 
And  mark  our  actions,  good  or  bad,  below  ; 
TV  immortal  spies  with  watchful  care  preside, 
And  thrice  ten  thousand  round  their  charges  glide. 
They  can  reward  with  glory,  or  with  gold, 
A  pow*r  they  by  divine  permission  hold.'* 


47* 


ASTROLOGICAL  CONVERSATIONS. 

Nb.  III. 

T AKBN  FBOM  THE  MEMORANDA  OF  THE  MEftCURII. 

President.  "  What  is  your  opinion,  Raphael,  of 
the '  Part  of  Fortune  V  Has  it  any  real  truth  in 
nature  ?w 

Raphael.    "  like  most  other  students  who  have 
been  self-taught,  this  worthy  Society  will  readily 
suppose  my  path  in  science  was  obstructed  by 
numerous  difficulties :   scarcely  an  author  who  has 
written  upon  the  '  4Tf  If  0tUl  %X\}  as  old  Haly 
terms  it,  but  cries  up  those  numerous  non-entities 
to  the  skies ;  one  of  which,  the  '  Part  of  Fortune,' 
undoubtedly  is  !     I  have  made  it  my  uniform  cus- 
tom to  dive  as  deeply  as  I  could  into  the  centre  of 
these  mysteries ;    and  have  frequently  calculated 
every  direction  to  the  said  ©,  in  different  horo- 
scopes;  but  I  regret  to  say,  that  this  theoretical 
signification,  (as  it  is  termed,)  is  literally  of  neither 
import y  signification,  nor  effect,  either  in  good  or 
evil." 

J.  L.  "  And  is  this,  Raphael,  the  result  of  your 
-candid  and  impartial  investigation  ?" 

Raphael.  "  It  is :  and  there  are,  I  believe, 
several  of  my  brother  students,  who  have  come  to 
the  same  conclusion;  who  were  even  bigoted  in 
favour  of  this  singular  chimera." 

Omnes.  "  Your  dictum,  Raphael,  then,  sets  the 
question  at  rest ;  *  in  secula  seculorum,'  as  the 
Catholics  say.    Let  the  opinion  of  Raphael,  the 


476 

Astrologer,  be   preserved  in   the  archives  of  the 
Mercurii!" 

President.  "  The  wishes  of  the  Society  meet 
my  entire  approbation ;  and  in  this  case,  the  worthy 
members  may  rest  assured,  that '  to  hear,  is  to  obey!'" 

[A  loud  knocking  is  heard  at  the  door  of  the  chamber  wherein  the  mem- 
bers are  assembled;  and  upon  the  same  being  opened,  Copt.  B.  is 
announced:  the  members  welcome  him,  and  he  enters f  bearing  m  kit 
hand  an  exquisitely  bound  volume  ;  he  displays  one  of  the  eurkmdif- 
wrought  plates,  and  bows  to  the  assembly,  with  these  words.] 

Capt.  B.  "  Are  ye  all  prepared  with  charms, 
spell,  and  vigils  ?  have  ye  each  pronounced  your 
orizons  ?  have  ye  each,  brandished — 

Your  crosa  of  Rowan,  and  bead  of  Yew  ; 

Your  sigil,  wet  with  hallowed  dew  I 

Your  talisman,  seal,  and  sacred  west ; 

Your  black-letter  Bible,  by  stcVd  Priest  blest ! 

Your  lamen,  your  wand ; 

Your  charms  at  command  I 

Your  Terrain  and  myrtle ; 

Your  mystic  wore  kirtle  ! 

If  ye  have  them,  prepare ; 

And  let  scoffers  beware ! 
For  a  strange  guest  I  bring,  that  may  need  each  weird  thing ; 
A  witch,  a  fair  witch;  brother  members,  I  bring ! 

"  Yes,  brother  students,  I  have  the  felicity  to 
present  to  your  notice  the  famous  'SBtlttf)  Ot 
m%&pt)fltlS  May  she  fascinate  your  attentions 
with  all  that  is  good,  and  wondrous,  and  lovely : 
(nay  her  potent  influence  also  extend  to  the  Eight 
Thousand  readers  of  her  author's  works ;  and  may 
the  name  of  Raphael  thus  be  quoted,  as  the  mystic 
word  that  fascinated  the  literature  of  the  nine- 
teenth century ;  impelling  mankind,  by  gentle  and 
subtle  means,  to  behold  the  heavens ;  and  by  ad- 
miring the  master-piece  of  the  universe,  therein 
contained,  learn  to  adore  the  great  Creator,  who  is 
so  magnificently  visible  in  his  works!  Gentle- 
men,  and  brother  students,   I   present  you  with 


477 


'RAPHAELS  WITCH/  or  the  Oracle  of  the 
Future." 

Omnes.  "  Let  the  fair,  and  gentle,  and  learned 
4  Witch,'  be  placed  in  our  library — the  library  of 
the  Mercurii— and  let  her  occupy  the  choicest  niche 

therein,  out  of  due  and  merited  respect  to  Raphael." 

********** 

Raphael.  "  According  to  custom,  I  now  pre- 
sent the  society  with  a  curious  nativity ;  the  time 
thereof  was  accurately  taken,  and  presented  me 
by  my  friend  J.  M.— a  scientific  gentleman  of  great 
worth.    It  is — 

fffle  tf atibitu  of  an  Sn*ane  flerftoit. 


478 
PLANET'S  LATITUDE.       PLANET'S  DECLINATION. 


9 

0  47 

N. 

12 

28  N. 

h 

1  46 

S. 

18 

20  N. 

% 

0  22 

s. 

19 

8  S. 

i 

0  22 

N. 

19 

11  N. 

0 
* 

18 
8 

37  N. 

1  12 

S. 

56  S. 

3 

2  50 

s. 

1 

18  N. 

2) 

0  28 

s. 

17 

41  N. 

"  The  following  are  the  zodiacal  aspects  of  the 
planets : — 

2)  A  5 ,  sesqui.  Q  Jj,  D  0,et  quintile  1? 
$  semi.  □  0,  #  $  9  #  b ,  ab  semi.  □  If 
g  ab  semi,  q   J  ,  ad  semi.  Q  1? 

0Dl(,(i   b   ^D^'QH 

"  In  my  opinion,  the  zodiacal  and  mundane 
square  of  f? ,  £ ,  and  9 ,  and  the  semiquartile  and 
sesquiquadrates  of  g,  by  which  he  is  terribly  af- 
flicted, were  astral  causes,  so  plainly  pointed  out  as 
precursors  of  the  dreadful  calamity  which  befel 
this  man,  that  they  evince  as  admirable  (though 
disastrous)  a  proof  of  Astrology,  that  could  be  well 
brought  forward.  My  brother  members  will 
readily  discover  what  were  the  fatal  directions 
which  gave  the  first  decided  proof  of  insanity  at 
the  age  of  13  years,  and  those  which  caused  his 
dissolution.  He  was  a  person  well  off  in  worldly 
circumstances,  and  the  foregoing  is  his  real  name; 
which  I  have  thought  proper  to  give,  in  order  to 
prevent  any  signs  of  collusion  or  deceit.,, 

President.  "  This  is  indeed  a  treat  to  us ;  and 
in  the  name  of  the  Society,  Raphael,  be  pleased  to 
receive  our  thanks." 

Raphael.  "  '  Dominus  vobiscum>  as  our  pious 
Catholic  forefathers  of  old  were  wont  to  say.    The 


479 

Society  shall  have  my  utmost  gratitude,  both  in 
thoughts,  words,  and  deeds." 

H.  B.  "  At  the  request  of  the  Society,  on  a 
former  meeting,  when  the  works  contained  in  our 
library  were  spoken  of,  it  was  proposed,  to  give  a 
printed  list  of  Raphael's  Works  I" 

Omnes.  "  The  society  wish  it,  in  order  that 
no  Pseudo  Astrologer  may  pilfer  aught  of  his 
fame." 

President.  "  Here,  brother  members,  is  a  cata- 
logue of  the  various  original  Publications,  in  due 
order,  as  they  have  progessively  appeared  before 
the  public  tribunal ;  written  by  Mr.  R.  C.  SMITH, 
Mathematician  and  Astronomer,  under  the  literary 
appellation  of  RAPHAEL  T 

i.  Qc  flfittfogtr  of  tfr  fttotmft  Centos;  toiowred  ptou$,  koroeeope*, 

and  diagram*. 
?.  Q(  Vool^  gffrftf,  <md  Toiet  qf  tfa  Itouf  f  * 

3.  €&  0Umu*\  Of  flitttbg]?,  or  Book  of  the  Start! 

4.  (Qt  Itegal  Boot  of  flSt,  from  an  iUumhutted  MSS.  formerly  n  the 
fMortrios  of  the  Earl  ofBuex! 

o.  f^ltojpIBeoluoT&mbof  Bmou. 

&  d9^«ttf!t«rflftroi0|fr;  (tkepreunt  Work.) 
7.  Qt  9roy|rtU  JftfMOIgtr ;  an  Annual. 

8.  IU#«rf  mttr(.  or  GntU  of  t|t  futon 

Omnes.  "  A  goodly  list  enough,  for  one  author, 
in  the  short  space  of  six  years !  But  let  us  hope  the 
list  will  be  trebled,  yea,  quintupled,  ere  our  worthy 
Secretary  lays  down  his  pen,  and  bids  adieu  to 
the  dissemination  of  Celestial  lore." 

Raphael.  "Brother  students,  your  wishes,  I 
hope,  will  prove  prophetic." — 


gwwt*  in  fBMmwm* 

TRANSLATED     FROM     PERUCHIO, 

A    RARE    FRENCH    AUTHOR; 

R.W  J.  PAL'fER,  Etq.,  Student  of  Oecult  Philotopki/. 


Aii  citiaoxfiiitni/  Mft/iotl  of'  Uncovering  any  one's 
Proper  Aflwc,  btf  Geomancy. 

It  is  here  tlmt  we  will  {jive  a  curious  method, 

to  know  the  isramr  of  a  pfrson,  of  a  (it»» 

OC  Of  anff  OtfftV  tiling,  be  it  what  it  may;  so 


481 


that  if  you  would  discover  the  name  of  a  thief,  or 
of  a  worthy  man,  of  a  traitor  who  is  in  a  state,  or 
the  natural  father  of  a  foundling,  of  a  murderer 
who  has  committed  homicide,  &c,  you  will  follow 
these  rules. 


B 

c 

D 

p 

o 

H 

K 

L 

o     0 
0     o 
0      0 

o 

O      0 

0 
0      0 
O      0 

0     o 
0      0 

0 
O      0 

o    o 

0      0 
0 
0 

0     o 
0 
0 

o 

o 

0 

0 

0      0 

1     ° 
0 

O      0 

0 

0     o 

0 
0     o 

o 

© 
o     o 

O      0 

0 
0     o 
0      0 
0      0 

0 

0      0 

0 

0 

1 

o 

O      0 

o 
0     o 

1 

o 

0      0 

0     o 

0 

0 
0 

1 

0 

o 

o    o 

0      0 
0      0 
O      0 

0     o 

0 
0 

o    o 

M 


N 


R      SorZ      T 


The  figure  being  cast,  you  will  see  the  ttfllttf  of 
the  unknown ;  but  before  you  make  the  distinction, 
you  must  know  the  number  of  syllables  it  ought  to 
have.  That  is  why  you  must  note  that  if  the  judge 
is  a  fixed  figure,  and  the  two  witnesses  moveable, 
it  will  only  be  of  one  syllable.  If  the  judge  and 
one  of  the  witnesses  are  fixed,  it  will  be  of  two ; 
and  of  three,  if  the  two  witnesses  and  the  judge  are 
fixed.  But  if  the  judge  only  is  moveable,  you  will 
only  pay  attention  to  the  two  witnesses,  who  will 
denote,  as  we  have  already  said,  two  syllables. 
Lastly,  if  the  judge  and  one  of  the  witnesses  are 
moveable,  the  name  will  be  of  four  syllables ;  and 
of  five,  if  these  three  figures  are  moveable. 

This  being  understood,  you  will  only  take  the 
figures  of  the  first,  second,  and  third,  if  the  name  is  of 
one  syllable ;  and  if  it  is  of  two,  you  will  add  the 
four,  five,  six,  and  the  others  in  the  same  way.  But, 
orasmuch  as  the  figures  in  particulars  denote  only 

3p 


482 


the  sixteen  consonants,  you  must  have  recourse  to 
other  places  to  find  the  vowels.  For  that  effect, 
you  will  place  A  upon  the  first  three  figures,  E  on 
the  three  following,  I  on  the  three  others,  O  on  the 
three  last,  V  on  the  witnesses  and  judge ;  and  you 
will  remark,  that  the  angular  figure  which  has  the 
least  points,  will  place  its  vowel  in  the  first  sylla- 
ble, even  at  the  beginning,  if  it  is  fixed  and  mascu- 
line ;  but  those  which  have  the  most  points,  will 
place  the  vowel  at  the  end  of  the  name ;  and  if 
they  are  equal  in  points,  you  will  place  them  in 
their  natural  rank,  that  is,  where  you  find  them. 

As  for  the  consonants,  the  four  angles,  and  the 
first  witness,  give  the  five  consonants  which  ought 
to  begin  the  five  syllables  of  the  name,  if  it  happens 
that  there  are  so  many.  Note,  that  if  the  figures 
of  the  angles  are  fixed,  the  syllable  will  be  but  of 
two  letters ;  it  will  be  of  three,  if  they  are  moveable ; 
and  of  four,  if  a  moveable  figure  follow  them ;  and 
that  is  all  we  have  to  observe,  to  find  any  name 
poever. 


TO    DISCOVER    NUMBERS 
BY    GEOMANCY. 

Those  who  have  put  this  art  in  practice,  have 
produced  the  Table  of  1Utmf) tt?0  in  this  form. 


6  o  o  16 
8  o   81 
1£  o  o 

o  400 


Id   o 

I)   o 

o 
8  o  o 


6 


6  o  o  20 

1$  ©  P 

o 
60  o   500 


50 


o 
o 
3  o  o 
5  o  o 


6 


1   o 
5  o  o 

12   o 


50 
«0 

90 


'i  i 


16   o  1 

100   o  1 

o  o 

1500  o  6 


if  ■  i   niw" 


O   O 

o 
Q 


■*■  M  *l*l  • 


2 

14      o 

1 

25 

24      o 

1 

14 

ft 

19 

4 

50  o     o 

25 

Tfmnr-M^ 


483 


2  •   U 

7  8  0  *1 

4  a  o  14 

28  o    o  20 

o  o 

0      0 

7  o  o  18 

0 

8  o  o  21 

Q   *0 

0 

00  0  6 

8  a  o  100 

19  4   14 

10  4  o  00 

11  0    0    10 

4  o   10 

10  o  <►   2 

0  a  4  41 

24  o        0 

6  o   24 

50  o  o   8 

15  o 

0  o  o 

0  <r   40 

o  a   8 

20  o 

o  o  04 

0  6       90 

08  o  o   9 

9  o  o  12 

8000  o   10 

There  are  no  rules  to  put  this  table  into  practice ; 
nevertheless,  as  there  are  but  four  parts  to  the 
figure,  namely,  the  head,  the  heart,  the  thighs,  and 
feet.  I  think  that  each  number,  which  attaches 
itself  in  the  figure  to  either  of  those  parts,  can  be 
taken  in  its  value  according  to  its  situation,  where 
you  find  the  figure ;  so  that  it  it  is  in  the  angles, 
yon  will  look  at  the  head,  in  the  succeedents,  to 
the  heart,  and  cadents,  to  the  thighs,  and  in  the 
houses  of  the  judge  and  witnesses,  you  will  pay 
attention  to  the  feet ;  and  by  this  means  you  will 
make  ft  total  ttttltttlft,  by  the  collection  of  all 
these  little  numbers.  This  can  be  practised  to 
know  how  much  money  is  hid,  how  much  the  mer- 
chant will  gain  in  traffic,  &c. ;  the  numbers  to  the 
right  signify  the  gain,  and  those  to  the  left  are  the 
numbers  of  loss* 


TO    DISCOVER    COLOURS 

BY  GEOHAVCnr* 

The  third  curious  observation  that  we  will  make 
here,  will  be  concerning  tOlOUTO  \  that  we  will 
discover  by  the  means  of  figures ;  for  it  is  neces* 
oary  to  pay  attention  only  to  the  bouse  of  the 
question,  and  the  figure  which  is  found  there 
denote  the  colour.    But  if  you  doubt  the  proper 


484 


house,  you  will  observe  where  the  ©  is  placed.  To 
render  this  curious  research  easy,  here  is  the  table 
of  figured  attf>  COlOUt0 ;  and  we  will  see  in  the 
end,  the  fit  place  for  ©,  and  the  point  of  instruction. 


o     0 
0      0 

0 

0 

White 

0       0 

0       0 

0 

o      0 

Pale 

0 

0 
0       0 
0       0 

Vermillion 
Ruddy 

o    o       1 

0 

0      0 
0      0 

Red 

0 

0 

O       0 

0 

Colour  of  Fire 

0     o           1 

O       0              I 
0       0 
O       0 

Citron  Orange 

1    : 

0 
0 

Yellow 

0 
O       0 
0      0 
0      0 

Green 

0 
0 

o 

0       0 

Violet 

o 

0       0 
0 
0 

Blue 

0 
0      o 

0 
0       0 

Azure 

0       0 
0 
0 
0 

Flaxen  Grey 

o     0 

0 
0      0 

0 

Grey 

0      0 

O     0 

0     0 

0 

Blackish 

0 
0      0 
0      0 

0 

Black 

0      0 

0 

0 
0       0 

Changeable 
Colour 

The  |9art  Of  ^fortune  is  very  considerable  in 
Geomancy,  not  only  to  know  the  figure  of  the  colour 
which  we  wish  to  know,  or  the  precise  number 
that  we  are  looking  for,  but  also  to  decide  every 
other  case  of  which  a  demand  can  be  made ;  for 
the  said  ©  following  in  a  bad  figure,  promises 
nothing  advantageous ;  on  the  contrary,  you  ought 
to  look  for  every  good,  when  it  arrives  in  a  good 
figure.  Here  is  the  manner  to  find  the  Part  of 
Fortune  : — you  must  count  all  the  points  which 
occupy  the  twelve  houses,  and  divide  that  number 


485 

by  twelve,  and  the  number  which  remains  denotes 
the  ® ;  for  instance,  if  you  have  seventy-six  points, 
you  divide  by  twelve,  there  will  remain  four,  which 
denotes  the  fourth  house,  where  you  ought  to  place 

fye  fart  oC  ^fortune* 

Ab  for  the  point  of  instruction,  it  serves  to 
denote  the  subject  of  the  question ;  for  that  effect, 
yon  must  observe  what  figure  passes  from  the  first 
to  another  house,  and  the  house  where  it  passes 
to,  indicates  the  subject  of  the  demand. 


There  are  various  arguments  from  nature  and  reason,  besides 
those  infallible  ones  adduced  from  holy  scripture,  in  faroor  of  the 
ami's  immortality,  which  seem  to  me  incapable  of  any  solid  and 
atisfactory  answer.  Mr.  Addison  has  thrown  some  of  them  toge- 
ther at  one  riew,  in  those  well  known  and  justly  admired  lines* 
which  he  puts  into  the  mouth  of  Cato . — 

u  It  must  be  so— Plato,  thou  reason 'st  well ! 

Else  whence  this  pleasing  hope,  this  fond  desire, 

This  longing  after  immortality  ? 

Or  whence  this  secret  dread,  and  inward  horror, 

Of  falling  into  naught !    Why  shrinks  the  soul 

Back  on  herself,  and  startles  at  destruction  f 

Tis  the  divinity  that  stirs  within  us  ; 

Tis  beaten  itself,  that  points  out  an  hereafter, 

And  intimates  eternity  to  man. 

The  soul,  secured  in  her  existence,  smiles 

At  the  drawn  dagger,  and  defies  its  point. 

The  stars  shall  fade  away,  the  sun  himself 

Grow  dim  with  age,  and  nature  sink  in  years, 

But  thou  shalt  flourish  in  immortal  youth, 

Unhurt  amidst  the  war  of  elements, 

fist  wrack  of  matter,  and  the  crash  of  worlds,* 


486 


THE    ASTROLOGER. 


No.  9. 


OBSERVATIONS    ON 


THE    SPRING    QUARTER. 


1831. 


487 

The  spring  quarter  commences  when  Gemini 
attends,  and  when  therefore  Mercury  assumes  the 
sovereignty  of  the  horoscope.  He  is  posited  in  the 
eleventh,  in  the  sign  Pisces-^-a  sign  depriving  him  of 
essential  strength ;  a  sign  in  which  Venus,  Jupiter, 
and  Mars,  retain  dignity ;  and,  as  if  by  connivance, 
Jupiter,  Mara,  and  Mercury,  have  exchanged  prero- 
gatives ;  for  Jupiter  and  Mara  are  located  in  the 
dignities  of  Mercury,  Mars  beholds  Mercury,  and 
Mercury  Mars,  with  a  quiuttte  aspect^en  aspect  the 
more  powerful,  as  Mercury  is  in  reception,  though 
weak  reception,  with  Mars,  The  Moon  is  not  back- 
ward in  lending  her  aid  to  Mercury,  by  applying  to  a 
trine  relation  to  him :  so  that,  though  the  lord  of 
the  celestial  figure  is  essentially  weak,  these  acci- 
dental circumstances  render  him  strong.  His  sig- 
nification is  therefore  fortunate.  By  nature,  he  is 
the  grand  representative  of  the  press,  of  public 
writers,  of  trade,  and  of  embassies;  by  government, 
of  the  people  of  England,  of  the  nation's  money,  of 
speculations,  of  the  youth  of  both  sexes,  and  of  all 
pleasurable  pursuits;  by  position,  pf  friends — a 
position  that  impresses  these  signatures  of  fate,  vis. 
that  the  people  will  be  friends  to  themselves,  that 
unanimity  will  prevail  among  them,  and  that  the 
preps  will  be  a  friendly  auxiliary,  Jupiter,  the 
governor  of  Mercury,  and  the  representative  of  the 
great,  of  the  aristocracy,  and  of  the  government, 
does  not  much  favour  Mercury;  but  Mars  does, 
imparting  fire  or  spirit  into  the  people  and  the 
pras«.  Venus  is  remarkably  shy— the  dame  i* 
quite  coy,  Out  it  must  be  remembered,  that  the 
plan«t  Mars  is  rnU  by  nature,  of  which  Mercury 
Hurtekea,  by  the  quiutUe  cpnownoA  ta  ba»  with 


488 

Mars.  Remembering  this,  and  that  the  sign  Pisces 
is  peculiarly  pregnant  with  evil  when  possessed  by 
evil  influence ;  and  in  the  evil  degrees,  Mercury 
may  presage  strange  calamities,  fires,  violence ;  be- 
cause, ruling  the  2d  as  well  as  the  1st,  he  is  not  in 
his  vengeance  a  sparer  of  property.  Mars  in  Gemini 
will,  I  fear,  prove  a  destructive  portent  in  relation 
to  our  metropolis.  In  Flanders,  things  seem  not 
yet  to  be  settled — war,  internal  and  external,  or 
commotion  of  some  sort,  exists,  and  which  affects 
London,  yea,  England,  and  England's  pecuniary 
resources.  Whether  it  designate  war,  and  involve 
this  country  in  it,  I  will  not  peremptorily  declare. 
Embassies  are  however  on  the  wing,  and  the  affairs 
of  Holland  are  prominent,  for  look  at  the  Moon. 
If  there  be  war,  England  does  not  favour  Belgium, 
does  not  take  its  part ;  and  the  poor  Dutch  King 
is  in  regard  to  revenue,  in  a  poor  condition.  Por- 
tugal is  consterned,  and  England  affected.  How 
singular,  that  the  interests  of  this  country  seem  to 
be,  and  indeed  are,  so  wound  up  with  those  of 
other  countries,  as  almost  to  be  identical.  Look, 
Mercury  is  at  once  the  representative  of  England, 
and  of  France,  and  of  Flanders,  and,  being  in 
Pisces,  of  Portugal ;  and  Gemini  is  on  the  cusps  of 
the  1st  and  the  2d  houses,  Virgo  in  the  5th,  and 
Cancer,  the  ascendant  of  Holland,  on  the  3d.  The 
common  people  of  this  country  are  yet  but  in  a 
very  bad  state  ;  but  this  state  is  ameliorating  y  for 
the  Moon  is  applying  to  the  biquintile  of  Herschel, 
and  then  of  Jupiter.  Foreign  trade  is  very  de- 
pressed, and  agriculture  !  yes,  agriculture  can 
scarcely  be  worse  off;  for,  behold  how  old  Saturn 
afflicts  that  branch  of  trade.    To  Italy  and  Rome 


489 

there  are,  I  think,  betokened  tremendous  visitations 
of  Providence ;  and  this  strikes  me,  that  London 
is  obnoxious  to  some  epidemic  disorder,  for  Mars 
rules  the  sixth.  Venus  in  the  twelfth,  ruling  the 
sixth,  in  evil  aspect  to  Mars,  and  Venus  being  the 
representative  of  the  fair,  shows  tbem  to  be  ex- 
posed to  sickness,  calamities,  and  secret  evils. 
Ireland  is  also  in  an  unenviable  predicament. — But 
look  at  the  mid-heaven — at  Jupiter  in  conjunction 
with  Herschel!  what  an  affliction !  betokening  evils 
to  the  great  of  the  land,  to  the  government,  to  the 
nation's  friends,  and  to  the  character  or  credit  of 
John  Bull!  and  to  a  King  some  severe  stroke 
of  illness  or  death  I  Look  again ;  the  moon's  south 
node  is  there !  characteristic  of  itself  alone  of  evil 
and  woe.  Russia  is  badly  off,  and  perhaps  the 
Czar  will  die.  -  A  more  friendly  connexion  is 
likely,  I  think,  to  be  attempted  between  Russia 
and  England  ;  however  that  be,  England  will  ulti- 
mately come  off  with  bad  grace.  Saturn  in  the 
4th,  is  descriptive  of  funerals  of  note.    Finis. 

Isaac  Sugden. 


Mammoth  and  Crocodile  in  England.— There  have  beenrecently 
diicoTered  in  the  parish  of  Motteston,  on  the  south  side  of  the 
Isle  of  Wight,  the  bones  of  that  stupendous  animal  supposed  to  be 
the  Mammoth,  or  Mastodon.  Several  of  the  vertebra  or  joints  of 
the  back-bone  measure  thirty-six  inches  in  circumference.  They 
correspond  exactly  in  form,  colour,  and  texture,  with  the  bones 
found  In  plenty  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  in  North  America,  in  a 
van  called  by  the  Indians  Big  Bone  Swamp.  Also,  in  the  parish 
of  Northwood,  on  the  north  side  of  the  island,  the  bones  of  the 
Crocodile  have  recently  been  found,  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hughes,  of 
Newport.  They  seem  to  have  belonged  to  an  animal  of  that 
species,  whose  body  did  not  exceed  twelve  feet  in  length.  Their 
calcareous  nature  is  not  altered :  but  the  bones  of  the  Mastodon 
(found  on  the  south  side  of  the  island)  contain  iron. 

3Q 


490 


THE   PHILOSOPHER'S  STONE! 

Part  the  First. 

At  the  request  of  the  Editor,  a  gentleman  of 
perfect  chemical  skill,  and  well  versed  in  classic 
lore,  as  also  in  mathematical  and  philosophical 
knowledge,  and  of  no  mean  talents  in  the  astrolo- 
gical art,  has  undertaken  a  series  of  papers  to  il- 
lustrate the  possibility  and  truth  of  the  Alchemical 
Art,  which  has  for  its  grand  object  the  Transmutation 
of  Metals,  the  Elixir  Vita,  &c ;  which  the  ancients 
are  said,  by  credible  historians,  to  have  known,  and 
performed  wonders  therewith. — The  Editor  of  this 
work  trusts  these  singular  essays  will  prove  highly 
agreeable  to  the  readers  of  the  Familiar  Astrologer, 
as  they  are  at  once  rare,  curious,  extraordinary,  and 
learned!  He  would  also  just  mention,  what  the 
writer  of  the  disquisitions  did  not  seem  aware  of: 
viz.  that  Dr.  Woolaston  and  Sir  Humphry  Davy 
each  pursued  the  Hermetical  Science  for  a  consi- 
derable period;  and  during  the  pursuit  thereof, 
hit  upon  most  of  their  invaluable  chemical  disco- 
veries. The  Editor's  informant  was  a  Mr,  Wagstaff, 
a  highly  respectable  bookseller ;  formerly  residing 
in  Brown's  Lane,  Spital fields,  London ;  who  was 
well  known,  a  few  years  back,  for  having  the  choicest 
collection  of  Alchemical  works  and  MSS.  of  any 
one  in  England.  He  knew  many  persons  who  had 
followed  up  the  theory  of  the  Hermetic  art,  as  given 
by  the  old  authors ;  but  with  little  success,  as  the 
Alchemical  writers  above  all  other  authors  clouded 
their  dissertations  with  far-fetched  enigmas,  dif- 


491 

ficalt  to  penetrate,  on  even  guess  aX9  except  by 
ukpts .— He  informed  the  Editor,  that  Sir  Humphry 
Davy,  and  other  great  chemists,  were  constantly 
purchasing  these  Alchemical  works  of  him,  and 
employed  him  to  collect  those  publications,  whether 
in  print  or  MS.,  whenever  and  wherever  he  could 
procure  them.  He  likewise  told  the  Editor  (of 
this  work)  that  he  could  prove  these  gentlemen 
believed  in  Alchemy  secretly,  whatever  were  their 
public  opinions :  and  that  he  was  credibly  informed, 
a  series  of  experiments  were  generally  carried  on 
at  His  Majesty's  Mint,  to  ascertain  the  growth  of 
gold,  and  its  chemical  foundation,  &c. 

SECTION  I. 

AN  ESSAY  ON  THE 


mtttvM  Sbttem* 


It  may  perhaps  appear  singular,  that  in  these 
times,  when  knowledge  is  so  generally  diffused, 
that  men  believe  but  those  things  which  can  be 
proved  with  almost  mathematical  exactness ;  that 
the  sciences  generally,  have  attained  to  such  a  height, 
of  perfection,  and  that  the  deep  and  mysterious 
studies  of  our  forefathers,  are  now,  by  most  men, 
treated  w  idle  chimeras,  and .  children  of  a  sickly 
feacy ;  that  a  man  should  dare  to  run  the  risk  of 
being  tfrmght  a  fool  01;  an  impostor,  by  attempting 
to  revive  again  the  long  condemned  and  long  forgot- 
ten g>titnte  0l  a  WKiny*  But  I  write  for  those 
men  who  read  and  judge  for  themselves ;  for  those 


492 

who  will  not  allow  their  ideas  to  be  enslaved  by  the 
trammels  of  modern  philosophy  ;  which  were  forged 
by  men,  who,  in  their  own  self-love  and  self-suffi- 
ciency, believed  it  to  be  impossible,  that  sciences 
should  exist,  which  their  all-powerful,  all-penetrat- 
ing genius  could  not  fathom :  and  who,  unwilling 
to  own  their  insufficiency,  condemned  as  futile 
those  thins^  which  had  baffled  their  utmost  en- 
deavours  to  attain.  How  have  they  condemned 
the  profound  science  of  Astrology  ?  How  the  science 
of  Hermetic  Philosopy  ?  How  all  the  other  sciences 
that  the  ancient  wise  men  and  magi  followed?  1 
answer,  that  they  have  condemned  them  from  their 
ignorance  of  their  simplest  laws  or  precepts !  Let 
them,  if  they  can,  bring  forth  their  proofs  of  the 
untruth  of  the  mystic  sciences ;  let  those  who  con- 
demn the  ancient  art  of  Astrology  be  put  to  the 
test;  and  it  will  be  found  that  not  one  of  them  is 
capable  of  bringing  up  a  direction,  or  even  of  casting 
a  figure.  How  then  is  it  possible  that  these  men, 
possessing  no  knowledge  of  these  arts,  can  have  the 
power  of  reasoning  on  them,  or  of  showing  their 
defects?  it  would  be  just  as  reasonable,  to  take  as 
a  law  the  opinion  of  a  child  on  the  intricacies  of 
Algebra!  But  let  their  criticisms  be  what  they 
may,  let  them  attempt  what  they  will,  these  arts 

HAVE  REMAINED,  AND  WILL   REMAIN,  BRIGHT  AND 

resplendent  as  ever;  even  when  the  progeny 
of  those  who  have  condemned  them,  shall  have 
passed  from  the  memory  of  man,  and  their  puny 
and  ephemeral  slanders  and  inventions  shall  have 
been  forgotten,  and  not  one  trace  of  them  existing, 
to  cause  the  student  to  smile  at  their  ineffectual 
endeavours.     I  have  taken  upon  me  the  pleasing 


493 

task  of  laying  before  the  unprejudiced  reader,  the 
history,  theory,  and  application  of  the  fUtXVXttit 
att  t  and  I  shall  endeavour  to  prove,  that  it  is  not 
so  impossible  to  attain  to  the  knowledge  thereof, 
as  those  who  have  failed  in  the  study  have  endea- 
voured to  prove 


SECTION  II. 


Of  t$t  l&i#txm3  mf  M?t)$m$. 


If  I  were  to  endeavour  to  trace  1 
OF  IfATTCfcB  to  its  origin,  it  would  be  vain  and 
foolish  ;  as  its  commencement  is  lost  in  those  times 
which  form  the  infancy  of  the  world.  The  patri- 
archs of  holy  writ  possessed  it ;  and  it  was  to  the 
influence  of  it,  that  they  owed  the  enjoyment  of 
that  lengthened  life  that  strikes  us  in  the  present 
day  with  wonder. 

Hermes,  who  is  supposed  to  have  been  cotem- 
porary  with  Abraham,  is  the  first  author  who  has 
traced  its  principles,  and  who  has  placed  them  in 
order ;  but  being  unwilling  to  disclose  it  openly  to 
the  world,  he  invented  hieroglyphics  and  symbo- 
lical characters,  under  the  veil  of  which  he  sent  it 
forth  to  the  people ;  it  was  from  his  writings,  that 
the  various  schools  and  temples  among  the  Egypt- 
ians, the  Greeks,  and  the  Druids,  were  formed, 
and  where  the  Priests  alone  explained  it  to  their 
disciples. 

The  Arabians  studied  it  with  enthusiasm;  and 
(Eiffel?  seems  to  have  been  the  inventor  of  distil- 


494 

latory  apparatus,  which  no  doubt  he  contrived,  to 
aid  him  in  his  complicated  experiments,  before  he 
had  discovered  the  simplicity  and  facility  of  the 
art.  After  the  crusade,  the  study  of  this  science 
became  common  in  Europe ;  and  a  philosopher  or 
learned  man,  in  those  days,  would  have  been  very 
little  thought  of,  if  he  had  not  some  smattering 
of  the  art. 

From  the  toils  and  labours  of  these  men,  from 
their  unremitting  exertions  and  multiplied  experi- 
ments, we  have  gained  the  arts  of  Pharmacy  and 
Chemistry ;  and  the  names,  Raymond  LuUy,  Count 
Bernard  of  Trcvisan,  Sendivogius,  Philalethes>  will 
always  be  remembered :  I  cite  these  names  in  parti- 
cular, as  I  am  certain,  that  tf)£Q  tt&Zf  A  ptVtttt 
KltOtolrtge  OC  tfot  att  The  manipulation, 
theory,  and  all  the  technicalities  of  the  science,  exist 
in  their  works ;  and  all  is  explained  and  laid  open  to 
the  student,  except  the  real  names  of  the  first 
matters  to  be  employed.  This  they  have  all 
zealously  concealed;  and  the  ignorance  of  it,  has 
been  the  stumbling-block  of  almost  all  who  have 
endeavoured  to  attain  a  knowledge  of  Alchemy. 
Towards  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
the  study  of  the  art  began  to  decline ;  and  at  the 
present  time,  a  man  would  hardly  credit  you,  if 
you  told  him,   that  there  was  existing,  a  single 

mtt)tmi&L 


495 


SECTION  III. 


I  now  arrive  at  that  pint  of  ray  Treatise,  which 
must  give  to  the  reader  an  idea  of  the  possibility0 
of  the  existence  of  an  ART ;  by  means  of  which, 
the  operations  of  nature  may  be  performed  in  less 
time  than  she  takes  to  bring  the  stubborn  metals  to 
perfection  in  the  Earth's  womb.  It  is  evident,  that 
all  things  must  have  a  beginning,  and  likewise 
different  stages  of  perfection :  Man  is  not  born  at 
once  in  force  and  vigour,  neither  does  the  tree 
bring  forth  its  fruit  at  once  ripe  and  fit  for  food ! 
We  are  all  positive  of  this,  and  we  know  that  all 
things,  whether  vegetable  or  animal,  require  time 
to  come  to  perfection :  why  then  should  we  believe 
that  mineral  productions  are  exempt  from  this 
law?  If  we  look  at  A  pittt  Of  CESfOlfr*  can  we  for 
a  moment  consider  it  as  the  work  of  ah  instant  ? 
is  it  possible  that  it  has  gained  its  metallic  splen- 
dour, its  ductility,  maleability,  and  beauty  all  at 
once  ?  or  is  it  to  be  supposed  that  the  metals  were 
all  created  at  the  moment  when  our  terrestial  planet 
was  launched  from  the  Creator's  hand  into  im- 
mensity ? 

This  cannot  be  possible ;  as  we  have  on  record 
instances  of  mines  having  been  worked  for  a  con* 
siderable  number  of  years  until  nearly  exhausted, 
and  shot  up  for  a  length  of  time ;  and  when  re-opened 
they  have  been  found  abundant  in  ore,  and  fit  for 


•mm 


•  Tto  engraving  whit}  aocompanles  this  article,  will  illtttrtte  the  lngent< 
ow  writer's  Theory  on  Alchemy.— Ed. 


490 


working. 

DO  GROW  AND  INCREASE.  Our  next  object 
is  to  ascertain  what  their  beginning  or  root  is, 
where  it  is  to  be  found,  and  what  is  its  nature.  The 
root  is  a  substance  which  is  neither  metallic  or 
mineral,  but  partakes  of  both ;  and  arises  from  the 
putrefaction  and  decomposition  of  both  mineral 
and  vegetable  bodies ;  it  is  soft  and  maniable,  some- 
times one  colour,  sometimes  another :  the  metallic 
germ  is  frequently  found  in  it,  and  it  is  so  common 
that  there  is  not  a  child  but  what  knows  of  it;  and 
yet  this  plentiful  and  well  known  production,  is 
the  womb   or  vehicle  which   is  most   fit  for  the 

antral   anir   fructifying  tfixt  of  tbt 

SSJOtlfc  \  to  work  its  slow  and  secret  opera- 
tions in,  on  the  formation  of  metals;  it  may 
be  found  and  seen  everywhere;  it  is  common  in 
fields  and  marshy  places ;  it  is  not  necessary  to  dig 
deep  in  the  bowels  of  the  Earth  for  it,  as  it  is  fre- 
quently found  at  the  depth  of  a  man's  leg. 

This  matter  the  philosophers  called  their  Uff0f  * 
and  with  reason  too— for  it  holds  the  ft0tffll 
S&pitit  in  itself,  and  contains  it  in  all  its  work- 
ings, until  it  putrifies  with  it,  and  becomes  one 
body  with  it,  and  then  it  acquires  the  name  of  the 
first  matter,  which  is  so  earnestly  sought  after  by 
those  who  devote  themselves  to  the  study  of  the 
Sltt  Of  W}CVn\t #♦  I  must  now  say  something  of 
the  Astral  or  universal  spirit — the  X.XFZ3,  FIRS, 
AND  SOUX.  OF  F&OCKBATXVB  XTATUIUB; 
by  means  of  which  all  things  are  brought  forth,  live, 
and  increase ;  and  whose  generative  power  is  felt 
to  the  very  centre  of  the  Earth.  All  men  know 
that  they  cannot  live  upon  food  alone;   and  that  if 


497 

they  were  deprived  of  air  they  would  droop  and 
die.  Neither  would  a  plant  live  or  thrive  without 
it.  We  must  not  pass  over  the  action  of  light  in 
silence:  let  a  vegetable  be  planted  and  kept  in 
the  dark,  it  will  grow,  because  it  has  sufficiency  of 
air,  but  it  will  come  forth  sickly  and  yellow ;  but 
let  but  one  small  ray  of  light  fall  on  any  of  its 
leaves,  and  it  will  be  found  that  that  part  will 
quickly  assume  its  healthy  garb  of  green :  and  if 
a  man  be  exposed  to  continual  darkness,  its  effects 
on  his  mind  and  spirits  is  quickly  visible 

We  have  now  convinced  ourselves  that  light  and 
air  are  necessary  for  the  growth,  well  being,  and 
life  of  men  and  vegetables ;  and  those  who  have 
read  the  Emerald  Table  of  Hermes  will  remem- 
ber that  he  says  the  following  words :     "  fT&flt 

tofnrtF  t*  rtobr,  t*  Ufte  tfwt  tolnct)  t*  bt~ 

Itlfttf)  J*  so  that  subterranean  productions  likewise 
require  the  assistance  of  these  two  agents  of  nature. 
Now  this  leads  us  to  the  following  enquiry :  do  the 
invigorating  principles  of  light  and  air  act,  one 
independent  of  the  other  ?  or,  do  they  from  their 
union  give  birth  to  a  third,  which  affects  all  things, 
whether  above  or  below  the  earth,  in  an  equal 
manner  ?  We  must  naturally  conclude  that  this  is 
the  case,  as  neither  light  nor  air  in  an  isolated 
state  can  penetrate  the  depths  of  the  earth.  The 
generative  essence  of  nature  then,  is  a  subtle  fluid, 
compounded  of  light  and  air,  which  is  capable  of 
penetrating  all  things.  This  is  what  the  Philoso- 
phers call  their  fl0ttal  SbPititt  their  water  of  the 
Sun  and  Moon,  &c. ;  and  this  is  what  the  hermetic 
student  must  learn  to  obtain,  before  he  can  com- 
mence his  operations  in  the  art ;   for  this  purpose 

3r 


498 

Sf>e  $t)ilO#Opt)tV>#  HoafratUttt  must  be  dis- 
covered, for  it  has  the  power  of  attracting  this 
fluid,  and  of  giving  it  a  substantial  form.  I  cannot 
disclose  openly  what  this  is,  but  I  can  tell  the 
student  that  it  frequently  takes  the  form  of  the 
CROSS;  and  in  this  emblem  are  contained  more 
mysteries  than  it  would  be  right  to  divulge  openly 
to  all  men ;  for  this  reason,  it  is  called  the  sign  of 
Redemption,  as  by  its  power  and  assistance,  the 
Philosophers  prepared  their  medicine,  which  had 
the  universal  power  of  bringing  to  a  perfection, 
far  beyond  that  which  nature  alone  can  do,  both 
animals,  minerals,  and  vegetables ;  and  it  restores 
man  to  his  primitive  state,  and  adds  new  fire  and 
vigour  to  his  body  and  mind. 

The  proper  time  for  the  recolt  of  this  fluid,  be- 
gins when  tbt  Stttt  ttlttK*  tftt  01011  Of  tbt 
ftant*  on  the  20th  or  21st  of  March,  and  con- 
tinues till  he  quits  the  sign  of  the  Twins,  about 
the  20th  of  June.  It  must  be  gathered  after  sun- 
set, when  the  Moon  is  at  or  near  her  full ;  and 
the  wind  must  not  blow  violently  at  this  time ;  the 
Sun's  rays  are  reflected  by  the  Moon,  and  the  air 
is  strongly  impregnated  with  the  £t$tt{ll  fttttfrt 
OV  Ttfittti  it  is  adviseable  to  turn  to  the  north 
during  the  time  of  gathering ;  and  if  the  student 
has  been  fortunate  enough  to  divine  the  attractor 
of  this  fluid,  let  him  seek  it  in  a  mine  of  thirty 
years  standing,  and  he  will  then  be  able  to 
obtain  the  spirit  in  the  form  of  a  viscous  fluid : 
and  the  fttOttC  Of  tt)t  i&S&I*  their  medicine 
and  universal  solvent,  is  nothing  more  than  this 
fluid,  carried  to  its  highest  pitch  of  concentration 
and  fermentation ;  it  may  be  considered  like  con- 


499 

densed  fire,  and  is  brought  to  this  state  of  purity, 
by  being  frequently  fermented  and  putrified  with 
the  mineral  matter. 


THB    ASTROLOGER. 

No.  10. 


fiftrolof  ttfl  Com*poit*ttta  anfc  Qutxitt , 

With  the  Editor's  Remarks  for  Student*. 


To  the  Editor  of  the  Familiar  Astrobgct . 

Most  respected  Sib, 

Permit  a  young  student  in  the  Astral  Science  to 
offer  a  few  remarks  to  your  notice :  with  the  most 
exalted  idea  of  your  abilities  in  this  sublime  piece 
of  ancient  learning,  1  feel  assured  that,  as  a  pro* 
moter  of  the  science  you  profess,  you  will  excuse 
the  liberty  I  have  taken.  I  was  born  at  the  time 
stated  in  the  enclosed  horoscope,  (which  I  am 
certain  is  perfectly  correct,)  in  a  small  town,  a  few 
miles  distant  from  Sheffield ;  which,  by  observa- 
tion, I  compute  to  be  in  the  lat.  of  53°  24'  N.,  and 
about  1°  9tf  west  of  Greenwich. 

My  nativity,  I  conceive,  is  rather  remarkable, 
and  deserving  of  your  attention.  I  was  born,  to  all 
appearance,  dead ;  and  when  t  came  to  the  ses- 
quiquadrate  of  the  >  by  period,  I  narrowly  escaped 
drowning,  (but  without  receiving  much  injury,)  by 


500 

falling  from  a  bridge  into  the  river ;  the  d  $  to 
the  ascendant,  was  accompanied  with  a  similar 
accident ;  again  1  escaped,  but  with  a  severe  cold  : 
when  seven  years  and  a  half  old,  my  right  leg  and 
left  foot  were  severely  scalded;  and  it  was  be- 
lieved, from  the  agony  I  was  in  for  several  weeks 
afterwards,  that  I  should  die ;  but  two  months  after 
the  accident,  I  again  perfectly  recovered,  without 
experiencing  the  least  inconvenience  from  it  to  this 
time.  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  when  &  formed 
an  $  to  the  D,  t.  e.  returned  nearly  to  his  radical 
place,  by  period,  as  shewn  in  your  Manual  of 
Astrology,  viz.  eighteen  years  and  a  half  nearly,  I 
had  a  severe  illness,  which  was  protracted  until 
the  effects  of  y  's  8  to  the  ascendant  were  past. 
1  have  not  seen  the  effects  of  the  Moon  to  the  de- 
clination of  y  described ;  but  it  is  worthy  of  notice, 
that  at  the  exact  time  this  aspect  (if  I  may  so 
term  it)  took  place  in  my  nativity,  I  was  appren- 
ticed to  a  master  and  profession,  nMuii  were  en- 
tirely contrary  to  my  inclinations ;  *rd,  during  my 
continuance  in  this  situation,  I  experienced  many 
remarkable  circumstances,  as  singular  as  unac- 
countable; but  when  the  *  %  to  the  asc.  took 
place,  I  was  freed  from  a  situation  I  always  de- 
tested, and  was  again  sent  to  school,  where  1  pur- 
sued my  studies  with  the  greatest  application  and 
success.  I  have  become  acquainted  with  most  of 
the  known  arts  and  sciences ;  amongst  which  are 
Geometry,  Trigonometry,  Geography,  Navigation, 
and  Astronomy  ;  these  have  always  been  my 
favourite  studies.  From  my  childhood,  I  have 
had  a  strange  propensity  to  the  occult  sciences,  and 
three  or  four  months  ago,    I  purchased  Sibley, 


,301 

Coley,  Salmon,  and  some  other  authors;  in  perusing 
whose  works,  I  found  little  satisfaction ;  for  from 
such  a  mass  of  contradiction  and  error  which  these 
books  contain,  I  could  scarcely  select  any  substan- 
tial knowledge  or  valuable  information.     A  short 
time  ago,  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  "  Wilson's 
Dictionary,"  and  your  "  Manual  of  Astrology* :" 
but  even  Wilson  frequently  contradicts  himself; 
and  in  finding  the  Planets9  poles,   he  adopts  an 
erroneous  method,  contrary  to  a  more  correct  rule  he 
has  given  in  another  part  of  the  work.     Upon  perus- 
ing the  "  ttOOft  OC  tbt  £teC0,*  /  wa$  perfectly 
satisfied,  and  have  worked  the  following  directions, 
according  to  the  rules  there  given ;  but  having  no 
instructor,  nor  any  one  capable  of  discovering  an 
error,  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  sending  them  for 
your   inspection,    and   (if  necessary)    correction. 
Permit  me  to  observe,  sir,  I  entertain  a  hope  that 
you  will  comply  with  this  request,  under  the  pre- 
sent circumstances.      I  have  always  had  a  great 
inclination  to  go  to  sea ;  and  I  shall  feel  extremely 
grateful,  if  you  will  give  your  opinion,  whether 
such  a  situation  would  be  fortunate  or  no ;  for  this 
is  the  only  profession  for  which  I  have  any  predi- 
lection ;  and  I  learned  the  art  of  Navigation  aboi' 
six  years  ago,  with  a  firm  resolution  to  gratify  my 
inclinations  with  the  first  favourable  opportunity 
that  transpired t-    I  should  describe  my  person  and 


*  A  few  remaining  copies  of  this  work,  which  is  oat  of  print, 
nay  be  had  of  the  Editor,  75,  Castle  Street  Bast,  Oxford  Street 
Letters  on  the  subject,  mist  be  post  paid. 

t  b  in  the  9th»  in  8  to  %  and  9 ,  are  not  only  unfortunate  for 
naval  professions,  but  forcshew  shipwreck  and  fear  of  a  fatal  end. 


502 

manners,  but  I  am  persuaded  that  you  will  discover 
these  from  my  horoscope,  much  more  correctly 
than  I  can  describe  them  myself,  was  I  ever  so 
sincere  and  undissembling :  suffice  it  to  say,  I  am 
five  feet  nine  inches  high,  rather  slender,  bat 
moderately  well  proportioned.  The  following  is  my 
horoscope  and  the  calculations  I  have  made,  to  which 
I  beg  to  request  your  attention ;  and  at  the  same  time, 
if  you  discover  any  thing  remarkable  therein,  I  give 
you  permission  to  make  what  use  of  it,  together 
with  these  observations,  you  may  think  proper. 

©fce  ftorof  copt* 


503 


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The  right  ascension,  &c.  contained  in  this  specu- 
lum, I  find  no  difficulty  in  calculating,  (all  which  I 


504 

have  done  by  Trigonometry,)  but  I  am  fearful  I 
may  have  committed  some  errors  in  finding  the 
Planets'  poles,  so  I  send  the  operations  worked  in 
full,  as  follows*  : — 

1st.— The  Pole  of  Mercury. 

R.A.of?       I01     44 

R.A.ofI.C 91     13 

Distance  of  3  from  the  I.  C.         . .       10    31 

Sem.  Arc.  **• dist-      Diff- of  eir  of  Pos< 

As  54    10    :    90    ::    10   31    :    17  28 

17     28 
10     81 


6     57  Asc.  Diff. 


Sine  of  Ascensional  Difference       6    57=  9,08280 
Cotangent  Declination  J  23    30=10,36170 

Tangent  of  Pole  ..     ..     15     33=  9,44450 


2d.— The  Pole  of  Venus. 

R.A.ofI.C 91  13 

R,A  ?      ™  40 

3  83 


Sem.  Arc.  R.  diet.       Diff.  dr.    R.dltt. 

As  55  24   :    90   ::   3  33   :    5  46=3  33=2   13  A.  D. 

Sine  of  Ascensional  Difference      2     13=  8,58747 
Cotangent  Declination  $       ..22    52=10,37496 


Tangent  of  Pole  . .      . .     5     14=  8,96243 


*  The  principle  upon  which  these  problems  are  worked  is  correct.— Ed. 


506 


3d,— The  Pole  of  Man. 

R.A.M  C.  • 271    18 

R.A.  3  ••     282    18 


88    66 


An.  R.dirt.         Diff.ofelr.      B.  DHL 

A»56  55  :   90  :  :   88  66   :   61  82—88  55=22  87  A.  D, 


Sine  of  Ascensional  Difference  22    87=  9,58497 

Cotangent  Declination  *  22      4=10,89214 

Tangent  of  Pole  43    80-^  9,97711 


4th.— The  Pole  of  Jupiter. 

*%•  At  »•  v/»     •••   •••    ••   ■••   •»•   VI   X«f 

*••  A«  i£       •••   •••   •••   •••   •••   o2   1U 


9      8 


Am  R.dist      IWff.ofC.P.    R.dltt 

As  66  26   :   90  :  :   9  8   :   14  42—9  8=5  89  A.  D. 


Sine  of  Ascensional  Difference       6    39=  8,99822 
Cotangent  Declination  %  22    51=10,37582 

Tangent  oi  Pole  %        18      9=  9,36864 


The  Pole  of  Saturn  by  the  same  method  is  14  37. 
The  Pole  of  Herechel  44  39;  the  Pole  of  the 
Sun  28  23 ;  and  the  Pole  of  the  Moon  40  43. 

3  8 


506 

The  following  are  calculations  of  all  the  aspects 
which  the  Moon  can  possibly  form  with  the  other 
Planets,  by  direct  motion  :~ 

1st.— >  to  serai  *  %.  The  aspect  falls  in  8  22  47,  vhcre 
the  Moon's  Latitude  is  4  34  S, ;  Declination  14  2  N, 


R.  A.  >  •••        ••• 

>  A.  D.  under  its  own  Pole 

O.  A.   >  under  ditto 


45    25 
11     13 


34     12 


For  the  R.  A.  of  the  Aspect. 

As  cosine  of        14    2=9,98684 

To  cosine  of       52  47=9,78163 

So  cosine  of       4  34=9,99862 


To  R.  A.  of  Aspect 


Tangent   >  Pole 
Tangent  Declination 

Sine  of  A.  D. 


19,78025 
9,98684 

51  34=9,79341 


40  43=9,93482 
M    2=9,39785 


12  25=9,33267 


Right  Ascension  of  the  Aspect 

A.  D.  of  ditto  under  Pole  of  the  Moon 

O .  A.  of  Aspect  under  Moon's  Pole 


51     34 
12    25 

39       9 


O.  A.  Aspect 
O.  A.  of  the  > 

Arc  of  Direction 


39    9 
34  12 


••• 


4  57 


507 


I  have  calculated  all  the  directions  to  the  Moon 
exactly  in  the  same  manner,  and  should  be  glad  to 
learn  that  the  above  specimen  is  correct ;  for  upon 
further  consideration,  I  think  it  would  be  super- 
fluous to  insert  calculations  of  the  whole ;  for  if  this 
aspect  is  truly  calculated,  I  can  vouch  for  the 
others  being  right  also. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  the  aspects  to  the  as- 
cendant in  mundo,  and  the  Moon  in  the  zodiac  by 
direct  motion,  equated  by  Nai bod's  measure  of 
time. 


Ascendant  to  the  sesquiquad- 
rite  <J  by  perioa. 


Asc  to  the  A  of  0 
A  of  fe 

a  of  g 


... 


... 


*  of  % 

*  of  $ 
*of  S 
Sesquiquadrate  b 


... 


*•• 


2  52 
8  35 
10  81 
0  26 
14  55 
18  0 
18  7 
18  84 
18  40 


2  11 

8  9 
10     8 

9  7 
15  1 
IS  3 
18      * 

18   10 
18   II 


Of  this  and  the  two  follow* 
ing  directions  I  remem* 
ber  nothing. 

Accident  by  water. 


Freed  from  apprenticeship. 

A  dangerous  illness  exactly 
at  this  time. 

Still  indisposed. 

A  severe  turn  of  the  same  ill- 
ness, hastened  by  the  S 
of  $  to  the  >  . 

Still  slightly  indisposed. 


Semiqaartile  % 

Effects  of  the  arcs  according  to  the  Editors  opinion* 


D  of  © 


i  D  of  9 


6  of  the  » 


A  of  s 


e  Jf  21  21 

21 

8 

...  22  2 

22 

4 

24  8 

24 

6 

...  26  29 

26 

11 

27  29 

27 

11 

Activity  in  busin 


Discredit  and  trouble. 
Vexation  by  means  of  fe- 
males,   and  unpleasant 
events. 

Marriage,  travelling 
and  first  scenes  n& 
life. 


} 


50» 


*  of   8 
Quintile  of  0 

28  84 
33  32 

ft.  Mr 

29     0 

34    0 

SGreat 

prosperity 

Sesquiquadrate  $ 
Semiquartile  of  $ 

86  27 
37  86 

37 
38 

0 

2 

>  jFatal  am. 

*  of  Sol 

41  12 

41 

10 

Semi  *  of  $ 

42  37 

43 

3 

£  ot  ^L                  ••• 

41    0 

41 

7 

6  of  % 

46  23 

47 

1 

S  of  b 

46  44 

47 

3 

• 

Semiquartile  of  0 

50  47 

51 

6 

• 

6  of  $ 

51  51 

52 

7 

Sesquiquadrate  ty 

52  14 

03 

0 

6  of  5 

64  41 

65 

7 

The  above  are  the  principal  directions  to  the 
ascendant;  and,  as  in  this  case  according  to  the  rule, 
it  is  Hyleg.  I  feel  particularly  desirous  to  know  whit 
direction  will  prove  mortal*,  and  be  the  terminus 
vita?.  I  am  at  a  loss  to  ascertain  why  the  S  of  <J, 
sesquiquadrate  of  t?  ,  and  S  of  i§ ,  falling  so  near 
together,  did  not  cause  death  instead  of  illness; 
and  the  semi  D  of  %  nearly  at  the  same  time,  1 
should  imagine,  would  rather  add  to  the  evil  tfian 


*  These  arc  the  fatal  Arcs  which  threaten  life : — 
Ascendant  to  sesquiquadrate  of   $        ...     87    0 
Ascendant  to  semiquartile  of  8       •     ■     •     •     88    8 
>  to  the  sesquiquadrate  of  y 89    7    But). 

It  Is  possible  the  native  may  outlive  the  first  two,  but  by  no  means  certain, 
as  the  two  principal  aphetical  points  are  \itiated.  I  have  my  doubts  whether 
he  will  live  over  87  years.— Ed. 


509 


decrease  it* :  however,  I  may  be  mistaken,  and 
shall  esteem  it  a  grfeat  favour  if  you  will  pay  par* 
ticular  attention  to  this  query;  and  also  give  a 
judgment  of  the  effects  of  each  particular  direc- 
tion, both  to  the  ascendant  and  to  the  Moon. 

The  following  are  the  zodiacal  directions  to  the 

Moon.     Direct  motion. 


J  to  the  Sesqui.  of  &  by  period 


*of0 

Stand  D  of  9 
Semi  ^- of  fc 


••• 


••• 


Semi  a  of  0 
S  of  &  by  period 
Semi -ft  of  S 
Biquintile  of  jg 

S  of  * 

Semi  ^  of  0     ... 


••• 


6*  of  % 


••• 


a  37 

4  57 
7  8 
7  38 
0  12 


Parallel  of  y  .'s  dec.     14    7 


16  33 


SO  30 

29  56 
SO  29 

30  35 

31  53 


6  of  $  ...       35     7 

Seaquiquadrate  of  ty     39    1 
Biquiniile  of  g  40  38 


Tim. 
J:  M». 

1  1 0  I  Accident  by  water. 


»    « 

5  0 
7  3 
7  7 
9  4 
14  4 
16  10 

18  6 
20  10 
30     4 

30  U 

31  0 

32  4 
35     8 

39  7 
41     3 


J 


Of  (he  effects  of  these  I 
know  nothing. 

A  severe  scald  at  7y.  6m. 
both  &  and  g  being 
in  watery  signs. . 


Bound  apprentice  exacll/ 
at  this  lime. 


i  * 


I 


Severe  illness. 


i  ■ 


|Fo 


rtunate. 


Dangerous  in  the  highest 

degree.  , 

Good. 


]very 


fortunate 


£*t*L 


*  The  seiftlqaartile  of  %  praserftd  life  at  this  period. 


•     510 


•  • 


•  •• 


•  •• 


•  •• 


50  18 

HAm 
Ys.  M: 

51   0 

50  25 

51  2 

55  5 

55  11 

62  39 

63  7 

67  10 

68  2 

69  S3 

70  5 

These  Arcs  come  vp  at  a 
►    period  of  life  the  nature 
will  never  see. 


Sesquidrate  $ 
6  of  8 
A  of  jp 
<$  of  0 
A  of  $ 
Biquintile  of  1? 


That  the  ascendant  is  Hyleg,  I  think  is  beyond 
dispute ;  for  if  the  D  had  claimed  that  office,  there 
is  great  reason  to  believe  that  the  £  of  &  by  direc- 
tion, and  the  semi  a  of  g,  about  the  same  time, 
would  have  proved  fatal:  your  opinion  on  this 
point  will  be  most  gratefully  received.  In  the 
course  of  my  study  of  this  most  beautiful  science, 
I  have  collected  the  following  queries,  some  of 
which  appear  very  mysteries— and  which,  in  addition 
to  the  above,  I  most  ardently  desire,  Sir,  that  you 
will  answer  *. 

Why  is  Naibod's  measure  of  time  considered  the 
most  rational  f  ? 

Why,  in  horary  questions,  do  angles  give  less 
time  than  succeedents  ?  and  succeedents  less  than 
cad  en  ts  J  ? 

Why  is  the  significator's  pole,  in  finding  the  O. 


*  In  this  respect  the  native  is  in  error,  the  Moon  U  HgUg;  and  the  reason 
the  8  of  $  did  not  prove  fatal  was,  because  6*  is  in  zodiacal  parallel  to 
both  X  and  ?  at  birth. 

t  Experience  being  the  grand  criterion  whereby  these  matters  are  judged; 
I  have  only  to  remark,  that  it  justifies  the  author's  choice  of  the  measare  of 
time,  termed  Naibod's. 

t  The  same  remarks  bold  good  with  respect  to  this  query. 


511 

A.  of  the  place  of  the  aspect,  taken  in  preference 
to  the  pole  of  such  aspect*  ? 

Are  the  effects  of  directions,  as  described  by 
Wilson  in  his  "Dictionary  of  Astrology,"  under 
the  article  Promittor,  to  be  depended  on  or  nott  ? 

Are  the  aspects  invented  by  Kepler,  as  the  semi- 
sextile,  semi  D*,  &c.  equal  or  similar  in  their  effects, 
to  those  used  by  the  ancients  J  ? 

Is  it  your  opinion,  that  zodiacal  directions  to  the 
angles  are  of  no  efficacy  ?  if  so,  for  what  reason  do 
you  reject  them,  particularly  when  the  ascendant 
is  Hyleg ;  as  every  other  author  (which  I  have 
seen)  has  taken  them  into  consideration  §  ? 

Are  the  centiloquia  of  Ptolemy,  Hermes,  Tris- 
megistus,  and  Bethem,  as  they  are  published  in 
Coley,  genuine  ?  if  not,  where  are  they  to  be 
found  so  H? 

Have  you  experienced  the  efficacy  of  parallels 
of  declination,  as  Wilson  lays  particular  stress 
upon  them  ^[? 

**Have  Ouranos,  Juno,  Ceres,  or  Pallas,  any  in- 
fluence on  mundane  affairs  ? 


*  This  is  according  to  true  mathematical  principles,  and  is  nothing  more 
than  measuring  the  aspect  by,  or  under  the  same  plane  as  the  slgnincator. 
The  construction  of  the  sodiacal  planisphere,  would  explain  this  to  the 
naure's  satisfaction. 

t  Neither  Wilson,  nor  any  one  else,  ought  to  be  depended  on,  farther  than 
truth  justifies.    Some  of  his  Rules  for  directions  are  no  doubt  erroneous. 

X  The  author's  opinion  in  this,  is  given  in  the  "Manual." 

$  Experience  does  not  warrant  directions  t»  the  aodtac  made  to  the  angles. 

|  Some  of  these  are  genuine,  others  not ;  bat  all  are  worthy  attention. 

f  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  their  efficacy. 

**  1}  has,  undoubtedly,  great  influence  in  nativities,  and  all  schemes  of 
heaven ;  bnt  the  atUrcidet  2  ,  $  ,  ¥ ,  and  S ,  have  not  been  sufficiently 
Pursued  as  yet,  in  natal  schemes,  to  form  any  correct  judgment  thereon. 


612 

Are  mundane  directions  of  the  Planets,  of  equal 
force  to  zodiacal  directions  ?  and  are  those  formed 
by  converse  *motio%  equal  ip  power  to  otjifrs*? 

Are  the  extracts  from  Qadbury'9  Astrological 
seaman,*  relative  to-  the  events  of  ship^  published 
in  the  ^Astjrolbger's  Magaziijg,"  for  170^  and  3, 
to  be  relied  upon  1  agd  have  (hey  been  verified  by 
experience  ft 

Whene  can  a  computet  sy§tpm  of  Geomancy  and 
Magic  be  procured  t  pnd  upde?  what  titles  \  1 

In  the  foregoing  jtuigpieqts  I  haye  given  on 
these  subjects,  I  shall  -feel  extreipely  (2pretffftd  to 
you,  sir,  if  you  will  take,  the  trouble  to  point  out 
my  error ;  and  you  *iU  much  oblige,  sir,,  a  sincere 
lover  of  the  science,  pnd 

j    Your  most  refpectty)  <»rr^ponxleii 

David  Parses. 


\. 


,  Dec.  27th  1830. 


1  »< 


*  Mvmdame  directions  are  of  equal  force,  whether  direct  or  convene,  aid 
are  very  powerful. 

t  Of  this  the  Editor  cannot  say  much ;  not  having  veri'ed  the*. 

X  Wbtks  oh' Geomancy  are  vert  ran,  and  high-priced.  The  present  work 
elucidates  the  subject  materially,  but  further  information  on  the  science  of 
Geomancy,  will  be  given  in  the  mm  series  of  "The  Astrologer  of  the  Nine- 
teenth Century,?'  which  the  author  is  preparing,  or  in  some  similar  work! 
Works  on  M^eic  are  still  scarcer  than  on  Geomancy ;  but  Agrtppa,  YVtlr- 
mica,  and  Arbatel,  are  the  best  printed  authors ;  yet  the  chief  secrets  of 
Occult  Philosophy  are  confined  to  manuscripts.  TTie  present  Work 
tains  many  secrets  of  a  Maglcat  kind,'  not  to  be  met  with  elsewhere. 


■j 


513 


A  REMARKABLE  VISIT  TO   RAPHAEL 

Ctye  astrologer. 


It  was  late  in  the  dreary  dusk  of  an  autumnal 
eve,  in  the  year  1828,  that  the  Astrologer  had  newly 
trimmed  his  lamp,  and  sat  down  to  serious  contem- 
plation of  an  astronomical  problem,  which  involved 
some    remarkable    phenomena,    when    a    furious 
ringing  of  the  Bell  belonging  to  his  study,  and  a 
simultaneous  loud  and  hasty  knocking  at  the  door 
of  his  residence  announced  a  visitor,  one  who  was 
apparently  little  gifted  with  the  virtue  of  patience, 
for  scarcely  deigning  to  wait  the  announcement  of 
his  name  and  business,  the  intruder  entered  with 
an  air  of  nonchalance  and  self-conceit,  that  told  of 
his  being  something  more  than  one  of  ordinary  rank, 
The  Stranger  appeared  to  be  a  man  far  advanced 
in  the  vale  of  years,  evidently  youth  had  deserted 
his  footsteps  for  many  seasons ;  but  still  a  certain 
hilarity  of  manners,  a  kind  of  forced  elastic  spring 
in  his  walk,  and  a  restless  jerk  in  his  motions, 
though  by  no  means  ungraceful,  announced  his 
desire  to  appear  as  one  who  yet  enjoyed  the  bless- 
ings of  health  and  vigour. 

He  entered  the  Astrologer's  study,  and  took,  al- 
most without  bidding,  a  seat.  The  Astrologer,  ac- 
customed to  the  eccentricities  of  rank  and  genius, 
paused  not  to  notice  these  peculiarities  in  his 
client,  but  pursued  his  scientific  calculations  to  the 
end  of  the  problem,  when  the  Stranger  addressed 

3t 


514 

him,  and  in  a  tone  of  mild  and  gentlemanly  polite- 
ness, requested  the  favour  of  the  Astrologer's  at- 
tention to  his  '  Future  Destiny.* 

1  I  was  born,'  said  the  Stranger,  '  in  the  me- 
ridian of  this  goodly  Metropolis ;  but/  added  he, 
*  I  know  not  with  sufficient  precision  the  hour  and 
minute  of  my  entering  the  world  to  establish  data, 
I  presume  for  the  theme,  you  philosophers  term 
the  Nativity.  /  But  I  have  in  some  former  period 
of  my  sojournings  read  many  of  the  books  of  the 
ancient  astrologers,  and  from  my  recollection,  (for,' 
said  he,  *  I  quote  from  memory,  other  momentous 
cares  having  of  late  years  engrossed  my  entire 
attention)  I  remember  that  a  famous  man  of  your 
profession  mentions  various  methods,  independent 
of  what  I  believe  is  termed  the  Genet hliacal  art,  for 
ascertaining  one's  fate  and  fortunes.  I  think  the 
Sage  gave  the  preference  to — ' 

4  Horary  Astrology/  replied  Raphael,  filling  up 
the  gap  in  the  Stranger's  remembrance. 

4  It  is  even  so,'  said  the  Stranger,  •  and  I 
earnestly  and  respectfully  crave  the  knowledge  I 
am  confident  you,  Raphael,  can  impart  to  me.' 

*  It  shall  be  done/  replied  the  Astrologer,  *  For 
the  stars  are  kind  and  beneficent  to  mortals  in  all 
cases  where  knowledge  of  the  future  is  sought, 
would  they  but  revere  the  wise  dictates  of  pre- 
science; albeit  the  present  generation  are  becoming 
daily  more  believing  in  the  celestial  science— the 
march  of  knowledge  being  evidently  commenced, 
and  who  knows  where  its  wondrous  powers  may 
terminate,  or  what  mighty  lever  may  yet  be  dis- 
covered to  set  the  vast  springs  of  human  intellect 
into  action.' 


516 

'  Your  opinion,  with  some  slight  reservation, 
corresponds  with  my  own/  replied  the  Stranger; 
who  then  caught  hold  of  a  new  publication  that 
laid  on  the  table,  and  began  earnestly  to  peruse  the 
contents,  as  if  unwilling  to  give  any  interruption  in 
the  matter  requested. 

Seeing  this,  the  Astrologer  drew  forth  his  Tables* 
consulted  his  Ephemeris,  and  cast  the  Horoscope, 
or  map  of  the  heavens  for  the  hour  and  moment  of 
the  enquiry,  according  to  the  known  and  established 
roles  of  the  side  rial  art.  But  astonishment  and 
awe  quickly  pervaded  his  countenance ;  for  the 
Radix  before  him  was  indeed  singular :  it  had  the 
Sun,  Lord  of  the  Horoscope,  in  fair  and  powerful 
aspect  with  the  Moon ;  and  Mars,  who  governed 
the  culminating  angle,  in  trine  to  Venus  ;  Jupitet 
was  posited  in  the  House  of  Wealth ;  Mercttr. 
located  in  the  North  angle ;  and  the  Georgian  star, 
Herschel,  touched  the  cusp  of  the  Sixth  Celestial 
House  as  the  visitor  entered.  Signs  which  the 
Astrologer  knew  portended  the  Stranger  to  be  one 
of  high  rank,  -  title,  and  illustrious  by  ancestry. 
Moreover  the  Moon  had  separated  from  a  number 
of  minor  and  some  superior  conjunctions,  which 
foreshewed  one  surrounded  by  the  pomp,  retinue, 
and  vanities  of  earthly  state.  Thus  for,  was  it  well, 
nor  did  the  countenance  and  bearing  of  the  Stranger 
belie  the  verdict  of  the  heavenly  orbs ;  being  even 
in  age  expressively,  dignified,  fend  his  form  portly. 
But' -wrapped  in  a  loose  and  ample  cloak  of  a 
Spanish  make,  and  sombre  texture,  little  of  his  other 
garb  was  visible ;  and  except  that  on  one  gloveless 
hand  glittered  a  ruby  of  surpassing  brilliancy,  no 
part  of  the  Stranger's  vestments  implied  the  station 


516 

of  his  birth ;  but  his  form  and  bearing  were  those 
of  aristocratic  command. 

The  Astrologer  perused  the  celestial  figure  before 
him  with  vivid  interest,  for  the  forthcoming  aspects 
of  the  orbs  were  malignant,  and  cloudy  were  the 
portentous  omens  of  the  planetary  agents  1  The 
Moon  went  suddenly  to  a  quartile  of  Mars ;  then 
came  forward  a  trine  of  Herschel,  himself  violently 
afflicted ;  next  followed  the  Lunar  conjunction  with 
Saturn,  in  the  House  of  Death  and  the  Grave!  The 
Astrologer  needed  no  farther  gaze,  for  enough  was 
clearly  elicited  before  him  to  prophesy  of  some 
forthcoming  calamity,  difficulty  if  not  impossible  to 
evade.  But  his  reveries  were  cut  short  by  the 
Stranger,  who  anxiously  enquired,  and  rather  in  a 
confused  manner,  (seeing,  perhaps,  the  Astrologer's 
more  than  usual  thoughtfulness)  What  good  or 
bad  fortune  the  stars  had  allotted  him?* 

*  As  to  the  first,'  replied  Raphael,  '  I  behold  be- 
fore me  the  certain  testimonials  of  one  who  has 
basked  soothly  in  the  gay  retinue  and  smiles  of 
fortune;  who  has  perchance  travelled,  sojourned, 
and  seen  countless  multitudes;  who  has  wealth, 
power,  and  fortune  at  his  beck  and  bidding ;  who 
waits  but  to  breathe  his  wishes,  and  they  are  ful- 
filled, even  to  the  utmost  scope  of  possibility.' 

*  It  is  such  as  you  have  said,  replied  the  Stenger; 
4  I  give  you  full  credence  for  the  future,  since  you 
have  revealed  the  irfefragable  past  But  apropos, 
I  would  have  you  Raphael  read  a  more  deep 
sentence  in  the  page  of  fate — What  say  you  iff  mg 
life?' 

4  As  to  that  particular,9  replied  Raphael,  *  sorry 
indeed  am  I  to  be  the  prophet  of  evil;  from  the 


517 

too  sure  and  fatal  configurations  here  congregated 
before  me,  which  are  many,  to  tire  you  with  the 
technical  enumeration.  I  grieve  to  announce  but 
a  brief  career  indeed,  to  the  present  enquirer !' 

0  How  brief,  say  you  V  eagerly  enquired  the 
stranger. 

To  answer  this  question  more  faithfully,  the  As- 
trologer once  more  consulted  the  horoscope,  in 
hopes  also  to  see,  if  possible,  some  sign  of  mitiga- 
tion to  the  impending  calamity.  But  in  Tain :  no 
friendly  ray  interposed  to  stay  the  fell  and  ireful 
aspects  %  the  chief  significatore,  especially  the 
Moon,  hastened  ff>m  evil  to  evil;  the  remaining 
planetary  indices,  met  junction  after  junction; 
quadrature  after  quadrature.— The  Astrologer  with 
unfeigned  reluctance  and  grief  of  mind,  announced 
that  Bf atf)  toftff  tOttt*i&  within  the  short  space 
of  two  years ! 

'  Brief  indeed/'  remarked  the  Stranger ;  <  the 
view  Raphael  you  have  afforded  me  into  futurity, 
I  must  confess,  is  of  no  cheering  kind :  but  as  it 
becomes  all  to  ponder  well  on  our  finite  existence, 
I  cannot  but  thank  you  for  the  results  of  your  cal- 
culation/— '  But  one  word  more  ere  we  separate ; 
shall  my  posterity  flourish  ?' 

4  Of  that,9  replied  the  astrologer,  rest  assured: 
for  one  of  your  race  I  perceive,  will  have  a  fame 
transcendant  and  unequalled,  either  in  victorious 
deeds,  or  some  signal  achievement,  political  or 
military ;  but  the  exact  affinity  is  dlibious.  More- 
over, I  perceive  the  omens  of  mighty  changes  as 
connected  with  your  name  and  lineage.9 

The  stranger  seemed  more  than  usually  pleased 
with  this  prediction ;  and  in  warm  and  friendly  terms, 


518 

proceeded  to  compliment  the  Astrologer ;  expressing 
his  ardent  conviction  that  the  *  stars  spoke  truth/ 
and  that  '  Astrology  was  veritably  a  noble  science.' 
— He  shortly  afterwards  took  leave,  in  the  same 
strain  of  gentlemanly  amenity  :  but  more  saddened 
and  less  impatient  than  when  he  entered ;  the  pre- 
diction seeming  to  be  impressed  on  his  mind— how- 
ever, previous  to  leaving  the  astrologer's  residence, 
he  left,  either  by  accident  or  design,  an  enamelled 
costly  card ;  from  which  the  real  station  and  title 
of  the  visitor  was  manifest.  It  was  even  as  the 
astrologer  had  suspected;  he  was  a  man  of  the 
highest  rank  in  the  kingdom!  (hence  the  reason 
for  his  concealment  of  his  day  and  year  of  birth,) 
and  as  to  the  fulfilment  of  the  horoscope,  the  reader 
need  only  be  told,  that  the  visitor  was  no  other  than 

HIS  LATE  MAJESTY  <&tQX$t  tfyt  jfOUVtt)* 


510 

FATAL    HOROSCOPES 

No.  II. 


€%t  Nfttlfeftv  of  fttirt  £*wk*  tttrifit. 

Daughter  of  the  Publisher  of  the  Prophetic  Meeeengcr. 

Oh  t  what  li  life  t — a  meteor  blase,  that  lief 
Actom  the  asare  heayVt  high  Taalted  plain ; 
When  shot,  'tie  g one— iti  beaaty  qaickly  dies* 
Aad  tarns  to  dross  and  eotnmon  sir  again  ! 

•Tie  bat  at  least,  a  transient  flower,  that  blooms 
At  rising  morn—more  bright  at  noon-day  san ; 
Bat  mark  t  the  blight  Its  tender  form  eonaames. 
And  ends  the  work  long  ere  his  course  is  ran  ! 


$   □   V — D  "*  sesqtii  Dtol^,©D<fffe  oriental. 


520 

That '  we  must  all  die'  is  a  truism  too  extensively 
known  to  need  repetition  ;  but  when  the  grim 
monarch  comes  with  his  hideous  visage  and  without 
ceremony,  snatches  away  the  young,  the  gentle, 
and  the  beauteous,  where  is  the  heart  that  does 
not  respond  in  sympathy  ?  where  the  bosom  that 
does  not  feel  a  pang  at  the  doleful  tidings  ? — 

Thus,  human  glory  flits  away, 

The  gaudy  pageant  of  a  day  I 

The  banner  proud,  the  trophied  hall, 

Before  that  mighty  dart  must  fall  1 

And  all  that  once  made  life  to  blythe, 

Mast  feel  that  ceaseless  mower's  scythe  I 

The  nativity  here  displayed,  is  that  of  a  lovely 
child,  fair  and  comely  even  in  death:  whose  features 
were  moulded  as  '  in  Parian  marble ;'  and  whose 
bust,  even  in  the  coffin,  might  have  been  mistaken 
for  the  most  exquisite  touch  of  the  sculptor's  chisel. 
—The  daughter  of  a  lady  possessed  of  great  per- 
sonal attractions,  taste,  and  literary  skill ;  whose 
amiable  qualities  seem  to  have  been  inherited  in  a 
more  than  ordinary  degree  by  the  lovely  deceased, 
t'le  subject  of  the  present  calculation. 

By  referring  to  the  horoscope,  the  student  will 
perceive  that  the  testimonials  of  short  life  are  nu- 
merous, strong,  and  unequivocal: — the  a0ffftfraitt 
is  vitiated  by  the  malignant  presence  of  Saturn,  in 
Cancer  ;  who  was  in  his  detriment,  by  sign,  and  in 
quartiie  to  Venus :  the  £tttt  is  in  quartile  to  Marsf 
and  the  JftOOtt  in  sesquiquadrate  to  Jupiter :  thus 
each  of  the  three  hylegiacal  points  in  the  Nativity 
were  afflicted ;    a   &UVt  atlfr  IttanifttFt  ptt* 

mqe  of  an  rarls  irratfK 

Peace  to  the  dead  I    The  Toice  of  nature  cries, 
E'en  p*er  the  grave  where  goilt  or  frailty  lies  ; 
Aid,  oh !    how  lovely  do  the  tints  return, 
Of  every  virtue,  sleeping  in  the  urn  I 


521 

I  have  before  said  that  "  fair  in  form/'  and  be- 
decked with  each  infantine  gracS,  the  deceased 
nativ6  was  the  exact  epitome  of  what  Astrologers 
express  by, the  best  features  .ef-.the  constellation 
Cancer,  and  the  mild  government  of  the  JltOOIt 
ill  £Ugtt8tilt0>  'the  latter,  was  indeed  her  trq^ 
*  Natal  Planet"     It  i  was  hence,   that  she  was 
almost  idolized  by  all  those  who  knew  her  p,  Mer- 
cury being  in  close  conjunction  with  Jupiter  in  his 
eelestial  exaltation,   had.  she  lived,  .would  nave 
made  her  a  prodigy  in  learning,   literature,  and 
science.    Astrologers  well  know  th#t  thfc  aspect 
Jbreshews    matchless    intellect,    and  trancendant 
talent ;  and,  as  far  as  these  were  developed  in  re- 
ference to  her  extreme  youth,  the  student  will.be 
gratified  to  learn,  that  the  oracular  presages  were 
each  and  all  fulfilled.      In  feet,  the  fair  child's  un- 
derstanding and  mental  quickness  were  frequently 
apostrophised,  as  being  .*•  above  her  years ;"    89 
truly  do  the  "  shining  orbs  above/9  both  rule  and 
govern  our  most  minute  actions.    But  these  high 
qualifications,  alas !  are  no  antidote  to  the  shaft  of 
the  stern  destroyer.  ..Too  frequently  do  they  ap- 
pear and  vanish,  as  it  were,  in  utter  mockery  of 
earth's  short-sighted  mortals !    Even  as  some  clear 
light,  that- beginning  to  unfold  its  welcome  radiance 
amidst  a  wide  sea  of  darkness,  is  lost. to  the. gaze  of 
the  beholder,  ere  he  can  be  certified,  .(much  less 
enjoy,)  the  bright  character  of  its  radiance  I     For, 
alas!  youth  and  beauty  find  no  protection  from,  the 
cold  hand  of  death.     Yet  the  last  fatal  summons 
was;  in  this  instance,  both  fleet  and  sudden.    M 
was,  I  remember,  one  morning  in  the  month  of 
January,  that  I   called  at  the  residence  of  her 

3u 


522 

parents,  and  found  the  fair  subject  of  this  article  in 
all  the  roseate  hue  of  health,  gratifying  her  friends 
by  her  infantile  endearments.  To  me,  I  must  con- 
fess, the  early  attractions  she  possessed,  was  a  scene 
of  vivid  interest  :  for  amidst  the  (at  best)  iron 
realities  of  our  wearisome  life,  I  have  ever  found 
the  soft,  engaging,  and  innocent  arts  of  children, 
their  playful,  unsophisticated  prattle,  etc.  as  one  of 
the  few  scenes  of  transitory,  but  real  enjoyment, 
this  world  affords!  Soon,  however,  how  changed 
was  the  scene  !  a  fortnight  afterwards  I  again 
called,  and  her  little  "  angelic"  form  was  wasting 
with  sickness — stretched  upon  a  couch,  with  weeping 
attendants  around,  a  burning  fever  "  drank  up  her 
blood." — Her  cabinet  of  childish  toys  was  displaced 
for  the  nauseous  drugs  of  the  apothecary;  the  muflied 
knocker,  the  stolen  whisper,  the  soundless  step,  the 
shrewd  and  sombre  looks  of  the  physician,  all  told 
of  the  impending  danger!  and,  alas!  tOO  tFUl£» 

In  an  agony  of  tears,  her  fond  parents  requested 
me  to  calculate  her  horoscope,  and  ascertain  her 
fete :  she  conjured  me  by  the  ties  of  a  parent,  to 
dispatch  her  word  if  there  was  any  hope.  I  did  so, 
but  there  was  none  ! 

A  few  days  afterwards,  the  Destroyer  came ;  and 
all  that  was  so  fair,  and  innocent,  and  lovely,  was 
committed  tO  tftt  0tUttt  tOttttl- 

Reader !  if  thou  art  a  parent,  thou  wilt  weep  at 
this  recital !  but  if  thou  art  not,  1  am  confident  the 
sad  truths,  which  thus  "  press  upon  mortality,"  will 
cause  thee  to  sympathise  truly  therewith ;  for  the 
remembrance  thereof,  even  now,  has  the  power  to 
draw  tears  from  thy  friend, 

RAPHAEL, 


AVCIJLWS     S'OJ-^SS" 


523 


mimimwt  ffirtopottom 


AND 


w$p#wm**iw 


FROM   A    RARE    OLD    AUTHOR. 


No.  I. 


Hippocrates  prince  of  physick,  sayes,  tbat  the 
physician  cannot  be  accomplished  in  his  art,  if  he 
have  not  the  knowledge  of  Astrologie ;  so  I  may 
say  that  the  Chiromancer  is  not  perfect  nor  accom- 
plished if  he  have  not  Physiognomic,  which  is 
scientia  quA  natura  hominum  ex'aspectu  corporis 
judicature  dwd  rov  <pv<ncyva>p6vew,  ex  facie  addivi- 
nare9  et  per  natura  judicia  cognoscere.  Or  other- 
wise, for  a  more  clear  definition  thereof,  it  is  a 
science  whereby  the  conditions  of  men  and  their 
temperaments  are  fully  known  by  the  lineaments 
and  conjectures  of  their  faces.  It  consisteth  in 
two  things,  that  is  to  say,  the  complexion  and 
composition  of  the  body  of  man ;  both  which  do 
manifestly  declare  and  6hew  the  things  that  are 
within  the  man,  by  the  external  signs;  asbythe  color, 
the  stature,  the  composition  and  shape  of  the  mem- 
bers. These  two  sciences  are  so  joined  together 
and  united,  that  they  never  go  one  without  another, 
and  to  make  profession  of  the  one  without  the  other, 


524 

is  a  vain  thing.     These  sciences  are  joined  together 
by  the  ancients,  even  by  the  satyrist,  Juvenal:— 

Spatium  lustrabit  utrumque, 
Metarum  et  fortes  ducet,  frontemque  manumque, 
Frabebit  fati  crebrum  popysmaroganti. 

And  yet,  when  he  describes  his  Zoilus,  he  doth 
it  by  the  filthy  spots  and  signs  of  his  body,  and  not 
by  those  of  his  hand ;  for  the  Chiromancer  may 
not  see  every  one's  hands  ;  and  sayes  of  this 
Zoylus, 

Tristis 
Occurras  fronte  obducta,  ceu  Marsia  victus. 

POST. 

Vultus  gravis,  horrida  sicca 
Sylva  comae,  nullus  tota  nitor  in  cute,  qualem 
Praestabat  calidi  ckcumlita  fascia  visci, 
Sed  fruticante  pilo  neglecta,  et  squallida  crura. 

How 
Like  conquered  Marsia,  with  a  cloudy  brow  ? 

'  Aftd  afterwards, 

A  heavy  countenance  and  brisled  hair, 
Like  a  rough  wood,  naught  fashionably  fair, 
But  as  ore  laid  with  birdlime :  on  thy  thighs 
Though  meagre,  ugly  shrubs  of  hair  arise,  &c. 

So  Martial  describes  his, 

Crine  ruber,  niger  ore,  brcvis  pede,  lumine  luscufl, 
Rem  magnam  praestas  Zoile  si  bonus  es. 

Squint-ey'd,  club-foot,  red  hair,  and  swarthy  face, 
A  wonder  Zoylus  !  if  the  least  of  grace. 

Homer  in  the  second  of  his  Iliads,  and  the 
eighteenth  of  Odusses,  describes  Thersites  and 
Irus  mischievous  and  evil  speakers  by  the  linea- 
ments and  composition  of  their  bodies :  see  here 
the  description. 


525 


It  Menied  here  that  nature  needs  woald  be, 

EmployM  to  forge  out  all  deformity. 

He  was  parblind,  cramp  shonlder'd  too,  and  lame, 

Sharp  head,  and  ill-bon'd  body  out  of  frame. 

But  littli  hair,  a  long  and  folio  ear, 

In  brief  so  ngly  as  to  wonder  were. 


4*        |  4   .    .  «  I   .  } 


As  for  the  second,  he  sets  hint,  forth  without 
ought  iof  beauty,  big,  and  cowardly,  and  such  as 
Lucian  represents  his  Happelopin ;   for  the  great- 
ness of  the  body  diminishes  the  courage,  as  Aristotle 
says*  and  the  soul  follows  the  composition  of;  the 
body,  that  is  to  my  the  marks :   so  the  same  poet 
describes  Ulisses  and  Achilles  of  a  middle  stature, 
and  consequently  couragioue. 
•  By  Physiognomic,  the  humours  and  the  inward 
Pflrt  of  the  soul  is  go  truly  known,  that  Socrates 
the  most  virtuous  Philosopher,  whereof  the  oracle 
itself  hath  given  this  testimony,  AvSqAv  aardanw  Zuk%<L 
Tyaoftratpt,  Socrates  the  most  wise  among  mqn,  yet 
being  described  by  his  Physiognomy  (by  a  phUo* 
sopher  skilled  in  tha>t  science)  was  the  most  pasty 
and  unhandsom  of , all  men  living,  and  totally  lost 
as  to  Inst  and  luxury.     His  disciples  laught  at  tht^ 
judgement,  as  utterly  false.     Socrates  reproving 
them,  said,   My  friends,  these  things  according  to 
nature  should  be  so  indeed,  but  I  have  corrected 
the  vices  of  my  nature  by  the  rule  of  reason :  as  if 
he  should  say,  the  imperfections  of  nature  may  be 
reformed  by  virtue,  and  that  a  man  may  in  some 
sort  resist  his  destiny,  if  he  be  wise,  and  allay  his 
ill  fate  with  a  syrrup  of  the  punishment  or  shame 
that  must  follow.    There  is  a  story  to  this  purpose 
taken  out  of  the  learned  Pasquier  in  his  curiosities 
of  France.     In  the  reign  of  Lewis  the  12th,  the 


526 

Duke  of  Nemours,  nephew  to  the  said  king,  and 
his  Lieutenant  General,  in  all  the  countries  beyond 
the  mountains,  deliberating  to  give  battell  to  the 
Spaniard,  some  days  before  the  battel  was  at  Capry, 
together  with  most  of  his  captains :  the  lord  of  that 
town  was  called  Albert  Mirandula,  a  very  learned 
man,  and  cousin  germain  to  the  great  Picus  Miran- 
dula. This  lord,  in  his  entertainment  of  the  said 
Prince  and  his  captains,  mentioned  a  judicary 
Astrologer  which  was  with  him ;  a  man  very  expert 
in  that  science,  aged  sixty  years,  and  very  famous 
for  his  predictions.  At  the  request  of  the  Duke  of 
Nemours  he  was  sent  for,  to  whom  the  Duke  pre- 
sented his  hand,  who  after  many  words  of  comple- 
ment, told  him,  that  he  should  give  battel  to  the 
Spaniard  and  the  Viceroy  of  Naples,  and  that  he 
should  gain  the  victory ;  but  he  advertized  Mon- 
sieur de  Pasise  and  de  Bayard,  to  have  a  care  of 
him,  for  he  should  be  killed  in  that  battel ;  he  told 
the  said  gentlemen  all  that  should  come  to  pass ; 
and  more  particularly  he  told  one  called  Jacquin 
Caumont,  an  ensign  bearer  in  the  company  of 
Captain  Mollard  (who  had  done  him  some  injury,) 
that  he  should  be  hanged  within  three  moneths, 
which  happened  accordingly :  and  to  all  those  to 
whom  he  had  told  their  fortunes,  it  happened  ac- 
cording to  what  he  said ;  and  he  looked  as  well 
upon  the  face  as  the  hands,  as  the  said  Pasquier 
says,  and  yet  he  did  not  look  upon  the  hand  of  the 
said  Jacquin,  but  only  on  his  face. 

In  the  same  manner  H.  Sanurenda  the  'good 
monk,  revealed  to  Charles  the  8,  King  of  France,  his 
adventures  by  his  Physiognomy ;  and  told  him  the 
success  of  his  voyage,  and  return  from  the  king- 


527 

dom  of  Naples,  which  business  rendered  the  said 
Sanurenda  suspect  to  the  Pope.  Therefore  not  to 
insist  any  farther  on  these  discourses  and  histories, 
which  the  reader  may  finde  if  he  please,  in  the 
authors  before  mentioned ;  I  shall  only  for  to  con- 
clude, say,  that  I  may  without  tediousness  advance 
into  my  instructions,  that  no  man  can  well  fortell 
any  thing,  and  judge  of  Chiromancie  without  Phy- 
siognomic. Therefore  1  shall  give  an  epitome  and 
abridgement,  such  as  I  shall  conceive  necessary 
for  instruction. 


AN  EPITOMIE  OR  ABRIDGEMENT  OF 

PHYSIOGNOMIE. 

The  Hebrews  have  extremely  honoured  this 
science  of  Physiognomie,  and  the  Scripture  gives 
you  the  Physiognomie  of  Jacob,  Moses,  David, 
Absalom,  Jonathan,  and  many  others.  The  com- 
pilers of  the  Talmud  have  made  a  treatise  of  it, 
both  of  Chiromancie  and  Physiognomie,  called 
OT  TODD  Massecheth  Jadaim,  that  is  to  say,  the 
treatise  of  the  hands  ;  where  they  distinguish 
Physiognomie  from  Metoposcopie,  which  is  indeed 
but  a  part  of  Physiognomie,  which  the  Greeks 

understood  well,  saying,  ft€Towro<rjc<wrot  «wri  rov  fieroTrov 

*aX  krurtcoTrelv,  t.  e.  a  science  whereby  things  to  come 
are  known  by  the  aspect  of  the  forehead.  These 
Greeks  knew  also  Umblicometry,  and  divers  others; 
but  as  for  Physiognomie,  they  placed  it  according 
to  this  figure : 


And  to  represent  it  more  clearly,  the  whole  is 
placed  after  this  manner.         ... 

"'.,       '   The  forehead $    Mare. 

The  right  eye     ©  Sol. 

The  left  eye 0    The  Moon. 

The  right  ear %  Jupiter. 

The  left  ear  i?   Saturn. 

The  nose    S    Venus. 

The  mouth     g    Mercury. 

And  as  for  the  signs  of  the  zodiac  upon  the 
face,  they  are  attributed,  accomodated,  and  .placed 
thug. 

9  Cancer In  the  forehead  the  zenith. 

SI  Leo   The  right  eye-brow.     ..   r 

t?k  Virgo    The  right  cheek. 

£t  Libra   The  right  ear. 

n»  Scorpio The  nam. 


52f> 

t  Sagittary  ••••....  The  right  eye, 

V?  Capricorn     The  chin  which  it  nadir. 

a?  Aquarius The  left  eye  brow. 

X  Pisces  The  left  cheek. 

<r  Aries The  left  ear. 

8  Taurus The  middle  of  Mm  forehead. 

n  Gemini The  left  eye. 

So  the  Greeks  and  Hebrews  have  ordained  and 
constituted  them  for  the  profit  of  the  knowledge  of 
this  science,  of  which  Part  the  Second  shall  treat. 


AMERICAN     ANTIQUITIES. 

Mr.  Warden  has  presented  to  the  French  Aca- 
demy his  work  entitled  Researches  into  the  Anti- 
quities of  the  United  States  of  North  America,  and 
has  accompanied  the  presentation  with  some  very 
interesting  details,  adding  several  notices,  not  less 
curious,  of  the  monuments  of  Palenqul,  in  the 
ancient  province  of  Guatimala.  The  first  of  these 
antiquities,  hidden  for  so  long  a  time  in  the  thick 
forests  of  the  New  World,  consist  of  considerable 
works,  which  extend  from  the  south  shores  of  Lake 
Erie  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  along  the  Missouri 
to  the  Rocky  Mountains.  These  monuments,  of 
various  form  and  size,  and  the  objects  of  antiquity 
discovered  up  to  the  present  period,  comprehend, 
1.  fortifications;  2.  tumuli;  3.  parallel  earthen 
walls ;  4 .  subterraneous  walls  of  earth  and  brick  ; 
5.  openings  in  the  earth,  which  have  been  called 
wells ;  6.  rocks  with  inscriptions ;   7.   idols  ;   6. 

3x 


530 

shells  belonging  to  other  countries ;   and,  9.  mum- 
mies.   One  of  the  fortifications,  situated  in  the  state 
of  Ohio,  covers  a  surface  of  above  a  hundred  acres, 
and  is  surrounded  by  a  wall  of  earth,  twenty  feet 
thick  at  its  base,  and  twelve  feet  high ;  and  by  a 
ditch  of  about  twenty  feet  wide.     On  the  fortifica- 
tions and  on  the  tumuli,  trees  have  been  found  of  a 
prodigious  size,  and  on  which  four  hundred  annual 
circles  of  vegetation  are  distinctly  observable.    It 
is  to  be  remarked  that  the  modern   Indians  are 
ignorant  of  the  use  of  tumuli,  and  do  not  make  in- 
trenchments.     The  idols  discovered  in  the  state  of 
Tennessee,  and  at  Natchez,  in  the  state  of  Missis- 
sippi, the  marine  shells  of  the  genus  murex,  found  in 
an  ancient  fortification  in  Kentucky,  the  mummies 
of  the  calcareous  caverns  in  the  same  state,  and  the 
hieroglyphic  inscriptions  on  a  rock  in  the  state  of 
Massachusetts,   are  also   very   important   facts  in 
considering  the  great  question  of  the  origin  of  the 
Americans.      According  to  Mr.  Warden,  it  may  be 
inferred  from  them,  that  the  valley  of  Ohio,  from 
the  country  of  Illinois  to  Mexico,  has   been  inha- 
bited by  a  people  very  different  from  that  by  which 
it  was  occupied  at  the  epoch  of  its  discovery  by  the 
French  colonists  of  Canada  and  Louisiana.     Every 
thing  respecting  the  origin,  the  duration,   and  the 
extinction  of  that  people  is  enveloped  in  impene- 
trable mystery.     It  cannot,  however,  be  doubted 
that  it  was  much   more  civilized  than  anv  Indian 
people    existing   when   America  was    discovered. 
Nevertheless,  that  civilization  was  trifling  compared 
with  the  civilization  of  the  ancient  inhabitants  of 
Palenr|ue.    The  remains  found  in  the  latter  country 
prove  that  its  monuments  must  have  rivalled  those 


531 

of  the  greatest  cities  of  Europe ;  and  that  its  people 
must  have  arrived  at  a  high  cultivation  of  the  intel- 
lectual faculties.  The  line  of  fortifications  and 
tumuli,  extending  itself  from  Mexico  to  the  great 
lakes  of  the  United  States,  it  is  not  impossible  but 
that  the  ancient  inhabitants  of  Ohio  were  a  colony 
from  Palenque,  placed  there  to  facilitate  conquest 
and  commerce.  This  question  might  be  solved  if 
any  competent  person  would  examine  the  skulls  of 
the  skeletons  found  in  the  valley  of  Ohio,  and 
compare  them  with  those  found  at  Palenqul ;  the 
pointed  head  and  the  physiognomy  of  which  differ 
from  those  of  all  known  nations.  The  monuments 
of  Palenqu6  are  certainly  the  most  astonishing  dis- 
covery that  has  been  made  in  America.  They 
prove  that  the  continent  called  the  New  World 
was  peopled  much  more  anciently  than  has  hitherto 
been  supposed,  since  it  contains  vestiges  of  arts, 
respecting  which  tradition  is  silent,  and  which 
probably  belong  to  a  period  more  .remote  than  that 
at  which  the  annals  of  the  European  nations  begin 
to  be  sustained  by  historical  evidence. 


afftrottomfi* 

NEW,    LOST,    AND    VARIABLE   STARS. 

Notwithstanding  the  attention  of  the  mind  of 
man  has  been  in  all  ages  ardently  bending  its  intel- 
lectual powers  in  researches  amidst  the  celestial 
regions,  and  of  late  years  aided  by  the  exquisite 
instruments  which  have  enlarged  the  sphere  of  the 
fixed  stars  beyond  all  that  could  be  conceived,  it 
must  be  admitted  that,  notwithstanding  these  vast 


532 

acquirements,  we  are  but  on  the  very  threshold  of 
the  science  of  Astronomy;  and  the  conviction  is 
pressed  home  to  the  mind,  that  ere  its  flight  be 
unfettered,  and  capable  of  expatiating  through  the 
vast  range  of  the  universe,  the  spirit  must  be  re- 
leased from  its  present  enthralment,  and  arrayed  in 
the  vestments  of  immortality. 

What  is  it  we  contemplate  when  we  fix  our  eyes 
on  the  brightest  of  the  starry  train  ?  a  glittering 
point,  concerning  which,  we  only  know  that  the 
body  which  sends  forth  such  a  stream  of  radiance, 
is  inconceivably  too  remote  to  borrow  its  lustre 
from  the  sun  of  our  system,  or  from  any  other  sun : 
for,  of  necessity,  such  a  glorious  orb,  if  existing, 
would  be  visible :  we  believe  the  star  we  thus  be- 
hold, to  be  itself  a  sun-*-the  fount  of  light,  the  soul 
and  centre  of  revolving  worlds :  we  know  that,  as  far 
as  human  ingenuity  has  contrived  instruments,  the 
distance  of  this  shining  body  is  beyond  computation; 
though  such  is  the  minuteness  of  modern  instru- 
mental graduation,  that  angles,  formerly  considered 
to  be  insensible,  are  now  measured  with  the  greatest 
accuracy.  Where  calculation  fails,  imagination 
takes  up  the  wondrous  consideration,  and  in  vain 
attempts  to  date  the  period  when  this  bright  orb 
first  shone  forth  in  pristine  beauty ;  and  as  we  are 
ignorant  of  its  origin,  we  are  equally  so  of  the 
period  when  the  hand  that  moulded  the  orb  shall 
return  it  to  its  original  nothingness.  When  we 
survey  the  glorious  host,  "  stars  densely  thronging 
still,"  we  cannot  suppose  them  merely  twinkling 
lights  to  garnish  the  blue  vault  of  tieaven — to  afford 
speculation  to  the  philosopher— to  excite  the  ad- 
miration, and  add  to  the  delight  of  man.     Returning 


533 

from  the  vast  survey,  we  must  confess  that  all  these 
glittering  gems,  which  are  displayed  in  the  celes- 
tial arches,  are  enshrined  in  mysterious  obscurity : 
we  see,  admire,  and  speculate ;  but  the  soul  falls 
prostrate  in  attempting  to  unravel  these  material 
wondeis,  which  are  as  inexplicable  as  infinite  space 
or  eternal  duration.  We  judge  there  are  new  crea- 
tions, pure  and  beautiful,  from  the  sudden  appear- 
ance Of  new  stars ;  unless  we  may  suppose  that 
their  light,  after  having  traversed  space  myriads  of 
years,  has  just  reached  our  earth :  we  may  conclude 
from  the  disappearance  of  others,  that  the  awful 
mandate  has  been  issued  forth,  and  brilliant  systems 
have  been  blotted  from  the  ample  page  of  the 
universe. 

Among  some  which  have  been  recently  seen  in 
the  heavens,  and  are  called  New  Stars,  are  those 
in  the  following  constellations :— Lacerta,  Pereeus, 
Bootes,  Hydra,  Monoceros,  Cepheus,  &c. ;  and  of 
those  which  have  been  termed  Last  Stars f  are  three 
in  Hercules,  and  others  in  Cancer,  Perseus,  Pisces, 
Orion,  and  Coma  Berenices.  A  very  remarkable 
star  appeared  in  the  year  1004,  near  the  right  foot 
of  Serpentaritis ;  it  surpassed  Jupiter  in  magnitude, 
and  its  brilliancy  exceeded  that  of  every  other  star : 
when  near  the  horizon  it  shone  with  a  white  light ; 
bat  in  every  other  situation  it  assumed  alternately 
the  varying  colours  of  the  rainbow.  It  gradually 
diminished  in  splendour  till  about  October,  1605, 
when  it  disappeared,  and  has  not  been  seen  since. 

There  is  also  another  class  of  stars  in  the  heavens 
which  afford  considerable  speculation  to  the  phi- 
losopher. These  are  the  Variable  Stars,  which 
having  attained  a  certain  majomum  of  brilliancy, 


534 

by  degrees  suffer  a  diminution  of  it,  in  some  in- 
stances so  as  to  vanish  entirely,  and  re-appear,  in- 
creasing to  their  former  splendour ;  and  this  varia- 
tion occupying  a  limited  portion  of  time.  Many 
have  been  the  hypotheses  to  account  for  this 
periodical  change :  the  solar  spots  sanction  the  idea 
that  these  stars  are  suns,  having  very  large  spots 
on  their  orbs,  which,  by  their  rotation,  are  alter- 
nately turned  from  and  towards  our  system.  Others 
have  considered  the  phenomenon  sufficiently  ex- 
plained, by  supposing  large  planets  circulating 
round  the  stars,  which,  when  in  conjunction,  inter- 
cept the  light.  Another  opinion  is,  that  their 
exceedingly  swift  rotation  generates  a  very  oblate 
spheriod ;  and  consequently  when  the  plane  which 
passes  through  the  axis  of  the  spheriod  is  turned 
towards  our  earth,  the  light  appears  at  its  mininum ; 
and  when  its  equatorial  diameter  is  similarly  po- 
sited, its  maximum  of  brightness  occurs.  This 
shifting  of  the  planes  is  accounted  for  from  the 
action  of  immense  planetary  masses,  whose  orbits 
are  considerably  inclined.  We  have  something  ana- 
logous to  this  in  the  nutation  of  the  earth's  axis, 
which  is  caused  by  the  inclination  of  the  moon's 
orbit,  and  the  obliquity  of  the  ecliptic.  The  number 
of  stars  ascertained  to  be  variable  is  fifteen,  and 
those  suspected  to  be  so,  thirty-seven:  the  most 
remarkable  of  the  former  are— 

Varying  Magnitude.      Period  of  Variation. 

D.      H.       M.       8. 

Algol  in  Perseus     2d  to  4th  -  2    20    40  50 

flLyree    3     to  4.5  -  6       9       0  0 

i  Antinoi       S     to  4.5  -  7       4     15  0 

A  Star  in  Sobieski's  shield  5    to  7.8  -  62  days. 

8  Cephei  is  subject  to  a  periodic  variation  of  5 


635 

days,  8  hours,  37  min.  30  sec.  in  the  following 
order  : — It  continues  at  its  greatest  brightness 
about  1  day,  13  hours ;  it  gradually  declines  in  1 
day,  1 8  hours ;  is  at  its  greatest  obscuration  about 
1  day,  12  hours ;  and  increases  in  13  hours :  its 
maximum  and  minimum  of  brightness  is  that  be- 
tween the  third  and  fourth,  and  betweeen  the  fourth 
and  fifth  magnitudes. 

In  the  years  1783,  1784,  1785,  Pollux  in  Gemini 
was  observed  to  be  considerably  brighter  than  Cas- 
tor ;  in  Flams  tead's  time,  the  reverse  was  the  case, 
he  making  Castor  of  the  first,  and  Pollux  of  the 
second  magnitude. 

On  these  mysterious  points  (the  appearance  and 
disappearance  of  some  stars,  and  the  gradual  de- 
crease and  augmentation  of  light  in  others)  it  is 
highly  probable,  that  not  only  the.  present  age,  but 
future  generations,  will  continue  to  remain  in  ob- 
scurity :  every  particular  connected  with  the  fixed 
stars  so  nearly  approaches  to  infinity,  that  nothing 
short  of  Infinite  Wisdom  can  direct  the  intellectual 
powers  in  the  development  of  its  sublimities. 


In  a  notice  of  Valentini's  Military  Reflections, 
mention  is  made  of  the  prophecy  of  the  dissolution 
of  the  Turkish  empire,  or  at  least  of  the  expulsion 
of  the  Turks  from  Europe,  by  which  it  is  supposed 
that  they  may  be  in  some  degree  discouraged.  The 
following  is  a  copy  of  this  prophecy,  authenticated 
by  the  Turkish  original,  as  I  find  it  in  Sansovino's 
collection  of  Treatises  relative  to  the  history  of  the 


530 

Turks,  published  about  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth 
century. 

"  Our  emperor  will  come  ;  he  will  take  the  king*- 
dom  of  an  infidel  prince  ;  he  will  take  also  a  red 
apple,  and  will  reduce  it  under  his  power.  If  be- 
fore the  seventh  year  the  sword  of  the  Christians 
shall  not  be  drawn,  he  shall  l>e  their  lord  till  the 
twelfth  year;  he  will  build  bouses,  plant  vines, 
enclose  (furnish)  gardens  with  hedges,  beget  sons. 
But  after  the  twelfth  year  from  the  time  he  reduced 
the  red  apple  under  his  power,  the  sword  of  the 
Christians  will  appear,  which  will  put  the  Turk  to 
flight." 

The  original  is  as  follows  :~- 

"  Patissa  homoz  ghelur,  csiaferun  memle  keti 
alur  kuzualmai,  alur  capzeiler,  iedi  Vladegh  keleci 
esikmasse  on  tki  yladegh  onlarujn  beglighider: 
cusi  iapar,  baght  diker,  bahesar  bayhlar,  ogli  kesi 
olur,  on  iki  yldenssora  Christianon  keleci  eseikar, 
ol  Turki  gheressine  tuskure." 

By  the  red  apple  the  Turks  understood  some 
great  and  very  strong  city ;  and  the  prophecy  was 
supposed  to  be  verified  in  the  capture  of  Constan- 
tinople. The  periods  of  seven  and  twelve  years 
must  of  course  have  been  considered  as  mystic. 
Some  supposed  each  year,  like  the  jubilee,  to  com- 
prehend fifty  years,  some  a  century,  some  366 
years. 

This  prophecy  has  not  merely  descended  by  oral 
tradition,  but,  though,  not  found  in  the  Koran,  is 
recorded  in  works  of  the  highest  authority,  and  re- 
garded with  the  utmost  respect. 

I  will  now  give  a  version  of  the  same  prophecy, 
translated  from  <tke  Persian  by  Georgienltz. 


537 

"  Imperator  noster  veniet,  gentilium  regnum 
capiet,  rubrum  malum  capiet,  subjugabit.  Septem 
usque  ad  annos,  ethnicorum  gladius  si  non  resur- 
rexerit,  duodecim  usque  ad  annos  in  eos  domina- 
bitur,  domura  aedificabit,  vineam  plantabit,  bortos 
rope  muniet,  et  filium  et  filiam  habebit :  duodecim 
post  annos  Christianorum  glad  i  us  insurget,  qui  et 
Turcam  retrorsum  profligabit." 

I  shall  conclude  with  another  prophecy,  men* 
tioned  in  one  of  his  works  by  Leo  the  philosopher, 
emperor  of  Constantinople. 

"  Familia  flava  cum  competitoribus  totum  Ismae- 
lum  in  fugam  conjiciet,  septemque  colles  possiden- 
tern  cum  ejus  poesessoribus  capiet." 

He  mentions  also  a  column  in  Constantinople, 
the  inscription  on  which  was  explained  by  the 
patriarch  to  signify  that  the  Muscovites  and  some 
other  European  power  would  take  the  city  of  Con- 
stantinople! and,  after  some  disputes,  concur  in 
electing  a  Christian  emperor.  Leo  reigned  in 
886. 


3  Y 


538 


FATAL    HOROSCOPES. 

No.  III. 


a  tffttitaitg  of  £ftort  Eif*. 


Like  to  the  falling  of  a  star, 

Or  as  the  flight  of  eagles  aro; 

Or  like  the  fresh  Spring's  gaudy  hue, 

Or  silver  drops  of  morning  dew  ; 

Or  like  a  wind  that  chafes  the  flood, 

Or  bubbles  which  on  water  stood, 


639 


ITea  sad)  i»  a*a— vboto  ooffov'd  light 
Is  straight  call'd  to,  and  paid  to  nif  ht. 
The  wind  blows  oat,  the  bubble  dies. 
The  Spring  entombed  m  Astasia  lio»| 
The  dew's  dried  ep— the  star  Is  sbot-~ 
The  light  Is  past   end  man  forgot 

fhe  fair  subject  of  the  preceding  horoscope  was 
the  accomplished  daughter  of  Mr.  John  Varley, 
the  celebrated  artist,  and  clever  Astrologer.  She 
was  a  female  of  some  pretensions  to  genius,  and 
eminently  handsome.  Her  features  and  the  gene- 
ral expression  of  her  countenance,  bore  a  most 
astonishing  resemblance  to  the  portraits  handed 
down  to  us  of  the  lovely,  but  unfortunate  Mary, 
Queen  of  Scots. 

The  student  will  perceive  another  remarkable 
proo£  how  far  the  language  of  the  Stars  may  be 
relied  upon,  in  %  life  and  death,  by  inspecting  the 
foregoing  horoscope;  which  is  the  more  interest- 
ing, as  its  correctness  for  the  purpose  of  Astrolo- 
gical research,  was  the  chief  object  of  the  deceased 
native's  parent  at  the  time  of  birth. 

The  Sun,  who  has  recently  culminated,  and  is 
still  near  the  South  Angle,  within  the  aphetical 
limits,  is  to  be  regarded  as  JQpllg*  He  is  in  the 
constellation  Capricorn,  in  zodiacal  parallel  to  Mars, 
and  in  semiquartUe  to  Venus,  while  the  planets 
Mara  and  Mercury  to  which  he  applies,  are  each 
terribly  vitiated  by  the  obnoxious  and  fell  quartiles 
of  Saturn  and  Herschel.  The  Moon,  another  sig- 
nificator  of  vitality,  is  in  square  to  the  Sun,  Mars, 
and  Mercury,  and  likewise  in  malignant  opposition 
to  both  the  infortunes,  from  the  sixth  and  twelfth 
houses  of  the  Celestial  figure.  These  are  too  sure 
and  certain  presages  of  an  untimely  ead— of  short 


540 
life — and  of  premature  dissolution.     And  even  00 

it  ptobtir* 

By  a  post  mortem  examination  of  the  deceased, 
it  appeared  that  she  laboured  under  an  organic 
disease  of  the  heart ;  which  affected  her  to  such  a 
degree,  that  she  could  scarcely  ever  walk  with 
quickness,  or  bear  the  least  fatigue.  But  the 
immediate  termination  of  the  existence  was  by 
inflammation.  The  following  is  a  list  of  the 
4f fltfll  &tf  0*  both  before  and  after  dissolution. 

Yean    Montkt 

0  to  the  semiquartile  of  $  converse  19     0 

2>  to  the  semiquartile  of  g  converse  10  10 

0  to  the  zodiacal  quartile  of  T?  2110% 

©  to  the  semiquartile  of  1?  converse  22    0/  *** 

D  to  the  zodiacal  parallel  of  8  22     6  >   of 

Ascendant  to  the  mundane  a  of  £  23     1  \9m& 

0  to  the  semiquartile  of  ty  converse  24    A  J 
D  to  the  zodiacal  sesqui  quad  rate  of  the  0  25     4 

D  to  the  semiouartile  of  £  converse  26  11 

fflbt  CtttU  Of  Dratf)  was  at  23  years  and  3 
months:  and  the  student  will  at  once  perceive 
that  the  train  of  directional  arcs  which  preceded 
and  succeeded,  were  of  the  most  positive  descrip- 
tion, going  from  evil  to  evil,  till  death  ensued. 
I  deem  this  example  well  worthy  the  student's 
attention,  on  account  of  the  great  number  of  mun- 
dane aspects  in  the  Jffltfll  HOll*  that  foretold 
mortality.  Probably,  those  incredulous  and  bigot  ted 
persons  who  deny  the  Siderial  Art,  and  look  upon 
the  bright  and  shining  orbs  above  us  as  mere  spec- 
tacles, placed  merely  to  amuse  the  sight  of  us 
short-lived  mortals,  will  perhaps  attempt  to  gain- 
say the  truth  of  the  example.  But,  be  it  remembered, 
that  the  hour  and  minute  of  birth  was  taken  by  a 


541 

skilful  Astrologer,  who  above  all  others  would  be 
most  accurate  in  the  equation  of  time ;  and  on  that 
account  there  can  be  no  possible  collusion. 

Weave  do  more  the  marriage  train, 

All  aamated  is  the  lover ! 
Death  has  taken  the  place  of  pain, 
Lotc  doth  call  on  love  in  vain ; 

life,  and  years  of  hope  are  o'er  f 

No  more  want  of  marriage  bell, 

No  more  need  of  bridal  fivoar  f 
Where  Is  she  to  wear  them  well  f 
You,  beside  the  lover  tell, 

Got*  I  with  all  the  love  he  gave  her  I 

Paler  than  the  stone  she  lies  I 

Colder  than  the  winter*!  morning  f 
Wherefore  did  she  these  despise, 
(She  with  pity  in  her  eyes,) 

Mother's  care,  and  lover's  warning? 

Yoath  and  beauty,  shall  they  not 
Last  beyond  the  brief  M  to-morrow  V  * 

Mi.    A  prayer :  and  then  forgot  I 

This  the  tmeet  lover's  knot  I 
This  the  mm  of  human  sorrow  t 


tEflf  HSOl'fD  or  Spirit.*. 

CELESTIAL     MAGIC. 
Part  1. 

Copied  ttrbalimfroiH  a  btaultfully  illuminated  magical  Manuteript,f<rnurl$ 
ill  the  pourwion  of  tin'  celebrated  Mr.  Richard  Conwy,  M.t. 


Isagogical  instructions  how  to  know  good  Spirit! 
from  bad,  when  they  appear. 

Sign*, 

The  Signs  of  appearance,  both  of  good  Angeli 
and  evil  Spirits  are,  and  ought,  carefully  to  be 
well  observed  by  Teason,  they  are  foregoera  of 
such  appearances,  and  whereby  are,  known  the 
differences  thereof,  which  is  a  matter  of  material 
consequence,  as  hereafter  shall  be  more  plainly 
shewed  forth. 

•£o0tr  anuria  mobr&. 

If  good  Angels,  or  elemental  powers,  or  other- 
wise dignified  spirits,  of  a  benevolent  or  symboliz- 
ing nature  with  celestial  powers,  and  allied  to  the 
welfare  and  preservation  of  mankind,  are  moved 
and  called  forth  to  visible  appearance  in  a  c  hristall 
stone,  or  glass  receiver,  as  one  usual  way  or  cus- 
tomary form  is  among  the  learned  Magicians,  then 
the  sign  of  their  appearance  seemetb  most  like  a 
vail,  or  curtain,  or  some  beautiful  colour  hanging 
in  or  about  the  glass  or  stone,  as  a  bright  cloud,  or 


643 

other  pretty  kind  of  hierogliphical  shew,    both 
strange  and  very  delightful  to  behold. 

It  is  therefore  to  be  remembered,  that  the  Magi* 
cal  student  ought  to  hate  for  his  purpose  a  christal 
stone,  of  a  round  giobick  form,  very  clear  and 
transparent,  or  other  of  like  diaphanity,  or  ball  of 
clear  and  solid  glass,  with  a  little  hole  on  the  top, 
of  like  form,  of  any  convenient  bigness  or  diameter, 
according  as  can  reasonably  be  obtained  or  made, 
sad  the  same  to  be  set  in  a  form ;  and  also  the 
Glasses  to  be  made  with  a  stalk  or  shank  fixed 
thereto,  and  so  to  be  put  into  a  socket  with  a  foot 
or  pedestal  to  stand  upright;    the  stone  being 
called  by  the  name  of  a  shew  stone,  and  the  glass 
ty  the  name  of  a  glass  receptacle ;   or  in  practice 
or  action  upon  invocation  or  motion,  made  for 
spiritual  appearance,  there  shall  either  be  a  wax 
candle  on  each  side  thereof,  or  a  lamp  behind  the 
same,  burning  during  the  time  of  action,  set  on  a 
table  apart,  fitted  and  furnished  for  this  purpose. 
Bat  if  appearance  hereof  aforesaid  be  moved  for  by 
invocation,  out  of  the  shewstone  or  christal  glass ; 
or  if.. yet,  notwithstanding  appearance  happen  to 
shew  themselves  out  of  them,  yet  the  sign  of  their 
appearance  will  be  very  delectable  and  pleasant; 
various,  amazing  the  senses  to  behold,  as  a  shining 
brightness  or  sudden  flashes,  or  such  like  simili- 
tudes, very  splended  in  shew,  or  in  the  place  where 
action  is  made,  or  appearance  moved. 


•      14 


When  Invocation  is  made  to  any  of  the  celestial 
powers,  or  dignified:  elemental  spirits  of  light,  and 
appearance  accordingly  is  presented,  and  visibly 


544 

siioweth  itself,  either  in  the  shew  stone  or  christal 
glass,  or  otherwise  our  of  them ;  then  view  the 
same  very  well,  and  also  take  notice  of  its  corpora- 
ture  physiognomy,  or  features  of  the  face,  vestures 
or  garments,  deportment,  language,  and  whatsoever 
else  may  be  worthy  of  note,  by  reason  of  making  a 
fine  distinction  between  the  appearance  of  good 
Angels  or  Spirits,  and  others  that  are  evil,  and  of 
knowing  the  same  without  being  deceived;  for 
although  evil  powers  or  spirits  of  darkness  may  be 
invocated,  moved,  or  called  forth  to  visible  appear- 
ance, and  consulted  withal  and  made  use  of,  in 
such  concerns  or  upon  such  actions,  wherein  by 
nature  and  office  they  may  be  commanded  to  serve 
in  all  such  matters  as  thereupon  are  dependent, 
and  as  the  necessity  thereof  shall  be  suitable  and 
requisite ;  but  then  actions  with  them  are  different 
both  in  time,  and  place,  and  order,  and  also  the 
manner  of  operation,  which  by  them  are  diverely 
and  severally  else  where,  hereafter  inserted  and 
shewed  forth  in  its  proper  place ;  therefore  do  the 
magick  philosophers  give  this  caution,  saying,  be- 
ware that  one  action,  operation,  or  secret  in  the 
art,  be  not  mixed  with  another. 

action  apart 

But  let  celestial,  elemental,  and  infernal  actions, 
operations,  and  invocations,  be  used  and  kept 
apart,  according  to  the  method  and  manner  as  are 
in  particular  ascribed,  and  properly  referred  unto 
each  of  them.  Now  then,  observe,  that  the  appear- 
ance of  celestial  and  benevolent  angels,  and  other 
dignified  elemental  spirits  of  powers  of  light,  are 
to  be  thus  known  or  distinguished  from  those  that 


545 

are  infernal,  or  evil  powers,  or  spirits  of  darkness. 
The  good  angels,  or  dignified  powers  of  light  as 
aforesaid,  are  in  countenance  very  fair,  beautiful, 
affable,  smiling,  amiable,  and  usually  of  a  flaxen  or 
golden  coloured  hair ;  in  behaviour  or  gesture,  cour- 
teous and  friendly ;  in  speech,  very  gentle,  mild, 
grave,  and  eloquent,  using  no  vain,  idle,  or  super- 
fluous language  in  their  discourse ;  in  their  corpo- 
rature  very  handsome,  straight,  comely,  well- 
fevoured ;  and  in  every  limb  most  exactly  formall 
and  well  composed ;  their  motions,  sometimes  to 
be  plainly  perceived,  sometimes  swift,  and  some- 
times interceptable,  both  in  their  appearance,  coun- 
tenance, and  departure;  and  their  garments,  of 
what  fashion,  form,  and  colour  soever,  are  likewise 
very  fair  and  beautiful,  or  Oriental ;  and  if  it  be  of 
many  colours  or  strange  fashion,  yet  they  are  also 
very  splendid  and  rare,  and  lively  to  behold ;  and, 
in  short,  they  are  celestial  and  dignified  in  all  their 
appearances,  as  they  are  in  countenance  and  corpo- 
ratare,  without  the  least  deformity  either  in  hairyness 
in  the  face  or  body,  or  a  swarthy  complexion,  or 
any  crookedness,  or  any  ill  shaped  member  of  the 
body;  so  also  their  garments  are  clean  and  un- 
soiled,  without  spot  or  blemish,  and  untorn  or 
ragged,  or  anywise  dirty  with  any  filthy  soil,  and 
always  embrace  the  word  MERCY  ! 

Appearance, 

When  the  appearance  of  any  celestial  angels,  or 
angelic  powers  of  light,  or  dignified  elemental 
spirits,  are  visibly  shewed  forth,  and  by  good  testi- 
mony or  diligent  observation  well  known  to  be  so, 

Sz 


540 

then,  with  due  reverence  given  thereto,  may  be  said 
as  followeth  : — 


Welcome  be  the  Light  of  the  Highest,  andwel- 
rome  be  the  Messengers  of  Divine  Grace  and 
Mercy  unto  us,  the  true  servants  and  worshippers 
of  the  same,  your  God,  whose  name  be  glorified, 
both  now  and  for  evermore. 

&00&  ov  Oil* 

And  if  the  appearance  be  good,  then  it  will  stay; 
but  if  riot,  then  it  will  immediately  vanish  away,  at 
the  rehearsing  of  the  word  MERCY.  But  if  any 
evil  power  shall  appear  in  the  place  of  that  which 
is'  good,  or  instead,  and  impudently  withstand  and 
opposing;  then  vanish  it  as  in  this  case.  Evil 
spirits  are  to  be  dealt  with  in  manner  and  form  as 
hereafter  is  inserted  in  its  place,  by  reason  those 
powers  or  spirits,  wfoo  are  by  nature  evil,*  and  so 
ate  contrary  to  thorn  hy  nature  gbod,  may  not  bt 
dealt  with  as  in  those  actions  «■  or  operations;  nor 
those  powers  of  light,  by  nature  good,  to  be  moved 
in  reference  to  that  otherwise  profterly  appertained), 
or  belongeth  by  nature  and  office  to  the*  evil  .spirits 
or  powers  of  darkness,  more  than  a«r  for  thei* assist- 
ance, and  so  according  for  deliverance  from  any 
violent  surprize,  assaults,  illusions,  or  other  infernal 
temptations,  or  envious  attempts. 

Now  then,  if  by  those  observations  4ite 
appearance  is  understood;  art d  found  to  bece 
aid  of  good,  at  to  bfr  deified  demetrtai»4S|«rits 


547 

powers  of  light,  and  so  likewise  of  good,  as  accord-* 
ingly  was  invocated,  moved,  or  called  forth  to  visi- 
ble appearance  by  name,  order,  and  office,  to  such 
appearance  say  thus  :— 

Sottandu 

Are  you  the  same  whom  we  have  moved  and 
called  forth  to  visible  appearance,  here  before  us 
at  this  time,  the  name  (N)  or  who  else  are  ye,  and 
of  what  order,  and  what  else  is  your  name,  that  we 
may  so  note  of  you,  either  as  you  may  be  ranked 
in  order  amongst  the  blessed  angels,  or  otherwise 
known  or  called  by  any  of  mortal  man :  if  you  be 
of  celestial  or  elemental  verity,  and  so  of  charity, 
you  cannot  mislike  or  deny  these  our  sayings. 

Then  if  it  maketh  any  answer,  as  perad venture  it 
may,  then  make  reply  according  as  the  nature  of 
discourse  requireth.  But  if  it  make  no  ahswer, 
then  repeat  the  words  aforesaid,  Are  you  the  same, 
&c.  &c. ;  then  it  will  shew  forth  or  tell  its  name, 
order,  and  office ;  the  which  when  it  is  known  by 
hearing,  then  ft  will  speak  or  otherwise  shew  forth ; 
say  then  as  followeth : 

If  you  be  (N)  as  you  say,  In  the  name  of  Jesus, 
say  that  all  wicked  angels  are  justly  condemned;  and 
yet  by  the  mercy  of  God  in  the  merits  of  Christ,  man- 
kind  elect  are  to  be  saved. 

Whereunto  it  will  then  return  a  satisfactory 
answer,  or  else  it  will  depart  and  be  gone  away ; 
then  if  the  appearance  be  good,  as  may  be  known 


548 

by  the  answer  and  the  reasons  thereof,  that  was 
made  or  given  to  the  aforesaid  proposition,  say  as 
folio  weth : 

£peafc  to  \%t  appearance 

O  ye  servants  and  messengers  of  Divine  grace 
and  mercy,  and  celestial  angels,  or  angelic  powers 
of  light,  or  dignified  elemental  spirits,  and  mediums 
of  benevolence  to  mankind,  servants  of  God,  you 
both  now  at  this  time,  and  always  are  and  shall  be 
unto  truly  and  sincerely  welcome,  humbly  desiring 
you  to  be  friendly  unto  us,  and  to  do  for  us  in 
whatsoever  it  shall  please  God  to  give  by  your 
order  and  office  unto  you,  for  the  better  knowledge 
of  mankind  living  on  earth,  and  to  make  us  par- 
takers of  true  science  and  sapience,  in  the  undefiled 
and  secret  wisdom  of  the  Creator. 

$tn*to*r  tnaUr* 

And  if  any  answer  shall  be  made  hereunto,  or 
any  discourse  from  hence  should  arise  or  proceed 
hereupon,  then  both  wisdom  and  reason  must  be 
the  principle  conduct  in  the  management  thereof; 
but  if  there  be  silence,  and  no  discourse  arise  from 
thence,  then  begin  to  make  humble  request  for 
answer  to  such  desires  and  proposalls,  as  in  a  cer 
tain  writing  is  contained,  which  ought  to  be  in 
readiness  with  you,  and  then  will  the  effects  of  all 
things  be  undoubtedly,  and  with  good  success  be 
determined. 

intrusion* 

The  sign  of  intrusion,  or  appearance  of  evil,  when 
action  or  invocation  is  otherwise  made  for  moving 
or  calling  forth  celestial  angels  or  intelligences,  or 


549 

their  dignified  powers,  or  elemental  spirits  of  light, 
are  not  apparent  or  risible,  to  be  any  ways  discern- 
ible than  your  shapes,  forms,  gestures,   or  other 
little  principals  in  appearance,  quite  contrary  in 
behaviour,  language,  cloathing,  or  vestures,  to  those 
above  related,  and  to  be  observed  of  the  good,  &c. ; 
neither  are  they  herein  otherwise  to  judge  of  them 
than  as  intruders,  tempters,  and  illuders,  on  pur- 
pose, if  possible,  to  deceive  and  also  to  destroy  the 
perseverance  and  hopes  of  obtaining  any  benefit, 
by  celestial  and  good  mediums,  by  reason  they  are 
degraded  and  deprived  of  power  to  send  or  shew 
forth  any  foregoing  sign  of  their  appearance,   in 
those  such  superior  actions,  invocations,  or  moving 
only  celestial  or  dignified  elemental  powers,  and  to 
visible  appearance,  herein  no  ways  to  have  farther 
notice  of  them,  to  be  vanquished  or  sent  away  as 
before  has  been  said.     Observe  then  the  corpora- 
tive forms  and  shapes  of  evil  powers,  or  spirits  of 
darkness,  in  their  appearances,  by  forcible  intru- 
sions of  the  kind  are  easily  discovered  from  the  good 
powers  and  spirits  of  light,  as  now  shall  be  declared, 
as  foUoweth : 

Evil  powbrs,  or  spirits  of  darkness,  are  ugly,  ill 
favoured,  and  beastly  in  shape  and  appearance; 
wherein  observe,  if  they  do  appear  in  upright  or 
human  stature,  then  either  body,  face,  or  covering, 
are  quite  contrary  to  the  other,  before  specified  of 
good ;  for  although  an  evil  or  infernal  spirit  may 
appear  in  the  likeness  of  an  angel  of  light,  especi- 
ally in  the  tune  and  place  when  good  angels  or 


552 

fl&ftttt  totrfufc  Intruder*  tome* 

Know  then,  if  at  any  time  and  place,  where 
action  or  motion  is  made,  and  humbly  entreated, 
earnestly  besought,  for  the  appearance  of  any  celes- 
tial power,  &c,  and  wicked  intruders  shall  impu- 
dently thrust  themselves  in  place,  and  would 
enforce  credulity  into  the  speculator,  and  that  it 
shall  be  plainly  discovered,  then  shall  the  magi- 
cian dismiss,  discharge,  send  away,  and  banish  them 
from  hence,  after  the  manner  hereafter  shewn,  in 
the  second  Part  of  this  magical  formula. 


$&tmi#tmf  $m$tQW®f®m 


AND 


W%pm$m*mit> 


VERBATIM  FROM  RARE  OLD  AUTHORS. 


No.  II. 


How  the  Nativity  may  be  found  by  Physiognomic  ; 
the  which  is  demonstrated  by  that  of  a  Prince 
done  by  this  Science  with  its  true  significations 
advanced  in  this  place  for  an  example  to  the 
curious 

h  Killing  m  t|e  *et>tral  temperament*. 

First,  he  that  is  cholerick  having  Saturne  in  his 
radix  ruling,  is  pale,  having  his  eyes  deep  in  his 
head,  looking  downwards,  slow-paced,  red  eyes,  or 
like  those  of  a  cat,  and  little.  Secondly,  if  Saturn 
be  in  the  nativity  in  the  flegmatick  radix  of  any 
person  of  either  sex,  he  is  naturally  fat,  the  colour 
of  the  eyes,  and  the  eyes  themselves  like  lead,  and 
all  about  them  there  is  as  it  were  a  bruisedness ;  lie 
is  slow  in  all  his  actions,  and  carries  himself  herein 
in  a  courtly  manner.  3.  When  Saturn  rules,  is  in 
the  nativity  of  a  melancholick  person,  it  causes  the 
man  to  have  his  face  awry,  ill  favoured,  and  a  fool, 
being  of  divers  colours,  pad,  fearfull,  having  the 

4  A 


554 

eyes  most  commonly  asquint.  He  is  nasty,  slo- 
venly, clownish,  uftcoQstant,  hath  a  stinking  breath, 
is  though tfull,  desiring  great  things,  but  most  mis- 
chievous, nay  shall  be  hard  to  believe  any  thing  of 
the  Divinity,  but  a  mocker  and  insolent,  going 
proudly  and  gravely ;  he  shall  have  thick  lips,  the 
shoulders  very  fleshly;  and  marks  at  the  knees  and 
heels ;  he  shall  pass  away  his  life  in  a  tavern,  or  in 
a  cloyster  for  to  carowse  it.  4.  But  Saturn  partici- 
pating of  the  sanguine  humour,  which  is  the  royal 
one,  and  the  best  of  the  temperaments,  the  pro- 
perties are  these :  they  have  the  voyce  sharp  and 
strong,  they  are  merry  and  jovial;  but  there  are 
very  few  that  have  Saturn  chronocrator,  are  of  a 
sanguine  humour ;  as  for  the  face,  they  have  it  fair 
enough,  but  the  colour  like  an  olive,  red  eyes  with 
bloody  spots  in  them.  So  muoh  for  the  physiog- 
nomy of  the  Saturnines ;  now  for  the  Jovialists, 

1.  He  that  hath  Jupiter  in  his  nativity,  in  the 
cholerick  significant,  is  of  a  white  complexion,  hath 
a  long  beard,  and  is  bald  in  the  forehead,  the  hair 
reddish  or  yellowish,  very  soon  angry,  yet  wise,  2. 
If  the  said  Jupiter  rule  in  the  nativity  of  a  flegraa- 
matick  person,  he  is  of  a  good  stature,  and  well 
proportioned,  fair-haired,  his  nose  like  a  trout's, 
black  eye-brows,  a  green  eye,  and  bleared.  3.  For 
the  melancholy,  Jupiter  is  seldom  in  such  na- 
tivities. 4.  As  for  the  sanguine  humour,  'tis  there 
that  Jupiter  governs  most ;  a  sanguine  person  hath 
the  body  white,  the  face  somewhat  red,  the  eyes 
not  altogether  black,  white  teeth,  high  forehead 
with  four  apparent  lines  therein,  the  which  signifie 
good  husbandry,  wisdom,  and  liberality. 


555 

j  fettling  in  tte  general  ttumatim 

1.  When  Mars  is  lord  of  the  nativity  of  a  cho- 
leric person,  the  party  is  red  as  if  he  were  sun- 
burnt, hath  a  round  face,  cat's  eyes,  and  bleared;  a 
cruel  countenance,  arrogant  and  proud ;  he  is  bald 
on  the  crown  of  the  head,  of  a  middle  stature,  the 
forepart  of  his  head  big,  the  nostrils  issuing  out, 
and  when  he  goes  he  makes  but  short  paces,  he 
goes  lightly  and  is  of  himself  given  to  evil.  As 
for  the  woman  of  this  humour,  she  is  described  by 
Martial  in  these  verses,  upon  the  kisses  of  Philena. 

Car  notf  tamo  te  Philena  ?  calva  es. 
Cur  non  basio  te  Philena?  rnfa  es. 
Cur  dob  basio  te  Philena  ?  lusca  es. 
&c. 

2.  But  being  in  the  root  of  the  nativity  of  a 
flegmatick,  he  makes  him  reddish,  or  yellowish,  of 
a  small  and  sudden  nature,  a  great  contester, 
talkative  and  a  lyar ;  he  is  bald  on  the  crown  of 
the  head,  hath  a  broad  face  and  great  head,  he 
looks  on  the  one  side  in  an  arrogant  manner :  this 
nature  i*  much  given  to  be  vicious.  3.  When 
Mars  is  Lord  of  a  melancholick  nativity,  it  makes 
the  party  have  a  threatening  countenance,  and 
have  the  marks  in  the  face.  If  Aries  be  ascendant, 
he  is  crump-shouldered,  hath  a  long  face,  the  head 
in  the  form  of  a  pyramid,  the  hair  of  a  chestnut 
colour,  great  eyes  and  yellowish ;  to  be  short,  the 
person  is  guilty  somewhat  of  folly.  4.  If  Mars  be 
in  a  sanguine  nativity,  which  happens  very  seldom, 
the  person  will  be  very  well  featured,  round-faced, 
flaxen-haired,  green-eyed,  the  countenance  gentle 
at  first,  but  the  speech  bold,  proud,  and  menacing. 


556 

s?  Ruling  iit  fyc  #rt>cral  tfonatitution** 

As  for  Mercury,  he  never  is  but  in  three  com- 
plexions ;  if  it  be  a  cholerick,  the  person  is  of  a 
great  stature,  lean  and  of  a  leaden  colour,  and  sad, 
having  not  much  hair,  wild  eyes,  and  deep  in  the 
head,  with  narrow  lips  and  short  teeth.  2.  When 
he  is  in  the  nativity  of  a  melancholick  and  is  re- 
trograde, the  party  is  incredulous,  subject  to  many 
vices,  and  is  always  marked  by  nature,  looking  a 
squint,  wry  mouth'd,  wry  neck'd,  and  crump- 
shouldered  :  such  was  Richd.  the  3.  King  of  Eng- 
land. 3.  When  it  is  a  sanguine  humour,  the  man 
is  well  disposed,  both  in  his  corporal  and  spiritual 
proportions,  when  Mercury  is  lord  of  his  nativity. 

Wbt  0  ruling  in  tfje  tfftolerictt* 

But  for  the  Sun  when  he  is  alfridary  or  lord  of  a 
cholerick,  he  causeth  him  to  be  of  a  brown  colour 
with  some  small  redness,  fleshy,  having  very  great 
eyes,  well  bearded  and  well  haired,  the  head  great 
and  round,  and  of  a  middle  stature ;  he  is  a  great 
dissembler  and  cautious. 

&t)t  2>  tilling  in  Vbt  tfltqm&tiqut. 


1 .  The  Moon  is  most  commonly  significatrix  in 
flegmatick  nativities,  for  which  reason  they  are 
called  Lunar;  they  are  very  white,  intermingled 
with  a  little  red,  having  the  head  great  and  thick, 
the  eyebrows  joyning  together,  fair  eyes,  but  haply 
unequal:  if  Cancer  be  the  ascendent  of  those 
persons,  they  are  fat  beyond  measure.    2.  When 


557 


she  is  in  that  of  a  melancholick,  she  makes 
corpulent,  fleshy,  fit  to  make  a  monk  on,  having 
the  head  fit  to  wear  the  cowle,  curled  hair ;  a  long 
beard,  but  not  handsom ;  there  may  be  also  some 
signification  of  gluttony,  as  haying  a  great  mouth 
and  thick  lips,  especially  the  under  lip. 

9  ttuling  tftrougf)  ifte  artoera!  ftttmot** 

1.  Venus  is  never  but  in  flegmatic  nativities; 
the  persons  are  fair,  courteous,  amiable,  gentle, 
having  the  body  white,  gentle  speech,  the  hair 
thick,  handsomly  curling  or  crisping ;  their  natural 
mark  is  in  the  neck,  which  is  very  fair :  they  have 
black  eyes,  whereof  the  ball  is  yellowish,  which 
doth  as  it  were  burn  or  shine.  A  maid  born  in 
this  constellation  will  not  long  keep  her  virginity, 
if  she  be  high-nosed,  which  commonly  happens. 
Now  by  these  physiognomies  well  considered 
(which  he  must  needs  do,  who  pretends  to  the 
knowledge  of  these  sciences)  one  may  make  the 
horoscope  very  easily,  taking  one  or  more  questions 
concerning  some  one  whom  we  wish  well  unto,  and 
would  know  his  present  and  future  contingences. 

First,  having  by  the  lineaments  of  the  face  known 
what  planet  was  lord,  let  us  see  if  he  derive  of  the 
nature  of  that  planet,  having  the  lineaments  of  the 
face  such  as  we  have  described ;  if  they  are  con- 
formable without  any  difference,  then  infallibly 
that  person  is  born  in  the  first  house  or  face  of  that 
sign  of  the  Zodiak  which  is  referred  to  that  planet. 
As  here  we  have  a  man  that  is  white,  fair  spoken, 
having  a  long  nose,  fair  hair  and  thick,  a  brown 
eye ;  he  is  born,  Venus  being  ad  ins  tor,  in  the  first 


o68 

part  of  .Taurus,  which  is  the  firs*l  uouse  of  that 
planet:  so  proceed  by  way  of  question,  having 
proposed  it  to  yourself,  and  observed  the  hour  and 
minute,  taking  the  month  and  the  day,  you  will 
certainly  finde  this  sign  Taurus,  whether  it  be  in 
the  house  of  life  which  is  the  first,  or  it  be  the 
tenth  which  is  Hilygiak,  and  is  the  house  of  dig- 
nities and  honours ;  and  from  the  figure  you  shall 
thereupon  erect,  you  may  draw  most  certain  signi- 
fications, as  Belot  did  for  a  young  German  Prince, 
whom  he  had  the  honour  to  see  in  the  suburbs  of 
St.  Germain  at  Paris.  "  My  proceed  (saith  he) 
was  thus,  without  desiring  to  know  the  day  or 
hour  of  his  nativity,  or  his  age.  Having  observed 
his  physiognomie ;  I  saw  he  was  flegmatique,  had 
black  hair,  red  eyes,  great  eye  brows,  the  mouth 
sufficiently  rising  up,  great  teeth,  a  fat  neck,  and 
all  the  body  full  enough;  my  question  being  made 
the  18  day  of  March,  at  7  of  the  clock  in  the 
morning,  in  the  year  1623c  I  found  that  the 
ascendant  of  this  physiognomical  question  was 
Libra  in  the  10  degree,  which  is  the  last  of  the 
first  part.  My  question  was  to  know  how  long 
this  Prince  should  live,  what  should  be  his  actions, 
fortunes,  and  misfortunes;  briefly  what  should 
happen  in  his  days :  I  erected  this  figure,  and 
thereupon  made  certain  quadrains  and  resolutions, 
that  my  friends  might  understand  the  significations 
of  the  said  figure,  and  the  things  portended  to  this 
young  Prince.  Which  here  for  the  obscurity 
thereof  I  have  omitted,  the  figure  will  inform  you. 
I  confess  he  hath  left  it  dark,  but  there  is  a  key  to 
unlock  thift  mysterie. 


659 

fhe  Figure  is  that  to  be  coucelved. 

The  Tenth  House  12  of  o 

£lerenth  House  10  of  Si 

Twelfth  House  17  of  in; 

Ascendant  10  of  £s> 

Second  House  8  of  m 

Third  House  3  of  / 
The  opposite  signs  and  degrees  make  compleat  the  Figure. 

THE  POSITION  OF  TUB  PLANETS. 

I?  in  the  5  of  Yf ,  the  North  Angle. 
%  In  the  13  of  ar. 
£  in  the  2  of  V 
G  in  the  2  of  / 

9  in  the  13  of  YP ,  the  North  Angle 
$  in  the  22  of  / 

J>  in  the  3  of  n ,  the  Angle  of  the  9  House 
This  Figure  Is  Geomantically  formed. 

©f  ttir  JQtati  an*  it*  Butiqtmtnt** 

The  learned  and  knowing  Hippocrates,  in  the 
sixth  Book  which  he  wrote  concerning  ordinary 
Diseases,  says  that  by  considering  the  head  of  a 
man,  it  may  be  judged  of  the  whole  body,  that 
being  the  most  apparent  of  all  the  parts  of  the 
body,  and  is  not  covered  nor  masked,  and  especi- 
ally the  face,  which  at  the  first  sight  is  seen  of  all, 
that  so  may  be  judged  of  the  temperament  and 
actions  of  the  person.  Now  in  our  science  of 
Physiognomie,  the  form,  proportion,  and  dimen- 
sions of  the  head  are  to  be  considered ;  for  by  it, 
and  its  form,  we  judge  of  the  minde  contained 
therein,  which  is  that  that  distinguishes  us  from 
beasts,  and  makes  us  know  the  breath  which  is 
said  to  have  been  blown  into  our  face  by  the  per- 
fection of  all  things,  that  so  he  might  give  us  the 


560 

epithite  of  Saints,  which  is  the  mark  which  all  wise 
men  aim  at  for  the  obtainment  of  that  immortality 
which  is  desired  by  pure  wisdom.  That  therefore 
we  may  come  to  this  discovery,  it  is  thus : 

A  little  head  is  never  without  vice,  and  most 
commonly  is  guilty  of  little  wisdom,  but  rather  full 
of  folly,  which  is  naught  and  malicious. 

A  great  head  doth  not  signifie  any  perfection  of 
manners,  though  there  may  be  sometimes,  but  not 
often,  goodness  of  nature ;  the  most  perfect  is  the 
round  head,  which  is  somewhat  depressed  on  both 
sides  after  the  fashion  of  a  sphear  compassed  about 
with  its  zodiack.  The  best  form  of  a  head  is 
moderate,  as  greatness  and  thickness,  and  of  a 
decent  and  convenient  roundness,  which  before  and 
behinde  is  tempered  with  a  little  compression. 

The  brain,  one  of  the  noblest  parts  of  the  body, 
is  according  to  the  form  of  the  cranium,  for  if  the 
cranium  be  corrupted,  the  brain  is  so  too.  The 
head  of  man,  hath  proportionably  more  brains  then 
all  other  living  creatures ;  and  men  have  more 
brains  then  women,  and  the  head  of  man  hath 
more  joynts  then  any  other  creature.  So  the  well 
formed  head  is  like  a  mallet  or  sphear,  there  being 
some  eminency  before  and  behinde ;  the  form  of 
the  middle  ventricle  should  be  a  little  compressed, 
so  the  cogitative  faculty  is  the  more  notable.  If 
the  forepart  be  depressed,  the  man  is  of  no  judge- 
ment ;  if  the  hinder,  he  hath  no  memory,  having  a 
great  weakness  in  the  motion  of  the  nerves,  and 
consequently  of  all  the  parts  of  the  body.  The 
strength  of  the  brain  is  demonstrated  by  the 
strength  of  the  body  and  nerves,  as  also  by  the 
breadth  of  the  shoulders,  the  breast,  and  the  lateral 


561 

parts,  called  hypocondres,  which  are  the  junctures 
of  the  livej  to  the  spleen.  The  head  which  is  of  a 
handsom  and  decent  form,  augments  the  sense  and 
virtue,  and  denotes  in  the  man  magnificence  and 
honour;  but  if  deformed,  the  contrary.;  the  judge- 
ments we  shall  thence  draw  are  these. 

1.  A  head  not  beyond  measure  great,  denotes 
persons  fair,  wise,  and  well  conditioned,  studious, 
having  a  strong  and  great  memory,  given  to  the 
reading  of  good  books. 

2.  Those  that  have  the  head  out  of  measure  big, 
are  commonly  foolish,  indocile,  not  far  from  a  little 
madness :  they  do  nothing  that  speaks  any  genti- 
lity of  spirit,  but  live  sadly  in  a  perpetual  melan- 
choly, or  happily  gluttony. 

3.  When  the  head  is  big  proportionable  to  the 
body,  the  sinews  of  the  neck  big,  and  the  neck 
it  self  strong,  it  is  a  sign  of  strentf  b,  choler,  mag- 
nanimity, and  a  martial  humour. 

4.  When  a  man  or  woman  have  the  head  long 
and  sharp  like  a  pyramid,  or  sugar  loaf,  it  denotes 
a  man  shameless,  who  in  his  youth  had  a  vivacity 
of  spirit  enough,  which  at  the  age  of  twenty  years 
vanished  away:  many  such  heads  may  be  seen 
amongst  us ;  such  persons  are  gluttons  and  great 
eaters,  rash  and  bold,  which  proceeds  from  the 
dryness  of  the  brain. 

5.  A  head  well  composed,  and  of  a  good  form, 
according  to  the  dimensions  of  the  body,  and  if 
the  ventricle  before  be  well  formed  and  well  tem- 
pered; for  the  apprehension  of  species  proceeds 
from  heat  and  moysture,  and  the  retention  pro- 
ceeds from  the  draught  in  the  hinder  part ;  a  head 
thus  formed,  signified  goodness  and 

4b 


5G2 

6.  A  head  having  the  middle  ventricle  somewhat 
compressed  towards  the  sides,  denotes  the  cogita- 
tive faculty,  natural,  diligently  comprehensive,  rati- 
onative  and  eloquent,  which  proceeds  from  the 
union  of  the  spirits  that  are  in  that  place ;  those 
who  have  the  head  thus,  are  learned  and  knowing. 

7.  A  head  that  is  altogether  spherical,  signifies 
mobility,  inconstancy,  forgetfulness,  little  discre- 
tion and  wisdom. 

8.  The  head  very  little  is  necessarily  an  evil 
sign ;  and  the  less  it  is,  the  more  folly  there  is ; 
the  person  is  subject  to  sickness,  because  of  the 
small  quantity  of  brains,  the  ventricles  being  nar- 
row, wherein  the  spirits  being  pressed,  cannot 
exercise  their  functions,  as  being  shuffled  together 
and  smothered ;  whence  it  comes  that  their  imagi- 
nation is  neither  free  nor  good,  and  their  memory 
is  slippery  :  such  persons  are  very  cholerick,  and 
hasty  in  all  their  actions,  and  are  more  like  St. 
Mathurin  then  Socrates,  and  are  commonly  verti- 
ginous, and  exceed  not  56  years  at  most. 

9.  A  head  out  of  measure  long,  and  oblique  in 
the  organs,  denotes  impudicity  and  imprudence, 
they  are  like  the  swine,  as  Porta  says,  wearying 
themselves  in  the  defilement  of  venereal  actions. 

10.  A  head  that  is  low  and  flat,  denotes  impu- 
dence and  dissoluteness  :  a  head  high  before,  folly 
and  stupidity  of  spirit. 

1 1 .  A  head  that  hath  as  it  were  a  ditch  behinde, 
and  is  depressed  and  hollow,  denotes  a  man  subject 
to  wrathfulness,  being  of  a  melancholick  humour ; 
this  head  hath  some  likeness  to  that  of  a  camel  1. 

12.  A  big  head  with  a  broad  forehead,  is  like 
that  of  an  ox,  having  a  large  face  like  a  gyant,  it 


563 

denotes  a  man  slow,  gentle,  yet  laborious  and  ex- 
treamly  indocile. 

13.  When  the  head  is  straight,  and  almost  flat 
in  the  middle,  of  a  middle  size,  it  denotes  that  man 
hath  a  good  strong  understanding,  that  he  is  coura- 
gious,  and  fears  nothing  as  to  the  affairs  of  the 
world,  that  he  is  indefatigable  in  the  vicissitude  of 
fortune,  and  that  all  the  afflictions  that  can  happen 
to  him,  cannot  make  him  quit  his  constancy  and 
conduct,  but  is  firm  amidst  the  most  outragious 
accidents ;  if  he  have  a  high  forehead,  he  is  per- 
fectly martial. 


©f  jttttopoecoptf,  auto  t&e  eigttificattott*  of  tf|e 

^orrfieatjr,  an*  t&e  Planet*  placet*  ttprron, 

artortjrittg  to  tyt*  Jkrtence. 

Metoposcopy  is  a  science  depending  of  Physi- 
ognomic, which  we  have  defined  to  be  a  science 
of  judging  of  things  to  come  by  the  aspection  on 
the  forehead,  as  also  of  knowing  the  temperaments 
of  any  one.  No  divination  is  certain,  unless  it  be 
joined  with,  and  assured  by  Astrology,  which  at 
present  is  the  certainest  science  for  the  prediction 
of  things  to  come;  and  the  joyning  it  to  the  other 
sciences  of  divination,  renders  them  more  recom- 
mendable  and  more  perfect ;  for  Astrology  is  the 
foundation  of  what  ever  concerns  the  prediction  of 
things  to  come.  That  is  the  reason  that  in  our 
Metoposcopy,  for  the  greater  perfection  thereof, 
we  accommodate  the  seven  planets,  as  you  finde 
them  in  this  figure. 


Of  the  significations  of  the  said  planets,  we  shall 
discourse  after  the  description  of  the  forehead.  The 
forehead  is  a  part  of  the  face,  situate  in  the  sin- 
ciput,  confined  by  the  eyes,  the  root  of  the  now, 
and  the  temples;  and  by  the  accidents  thereof, 
is  discovered  sadness,  joy,  clemency,  gentleness, 
severity,  humanity,  forwardness,  wisdom,  folly,  si- 
lence, whence  came  these  proverbs,  Fronttm  expor- 
rig-em,  frontem  extraher* :  and  Aristotle  says,  Frmt 
verecundxw  et  honoris  stdes;  for  it  is  a  neighbour 
to  the  place  of  the  fancy,  being,  as  it  were,  the  en- 
closure of  the  common  sense  in  the  hither  part  of 
the  brain.  The  forehead  hath  its  dimensions*  that  k 
to  say,  latitude,  longitude,  roundness,  and  fulness; 
the  latitude  begins  at  the  root  of  the  nose,  where  the 
eyebrows  discontinue ;  and  ends  with  the  first  bain 
neer  a  branch  of  the  hollow  vein ;  the  longitude  is 
from  one  temple  to  the  other ;  the  longitude  and 


565 

latitude  make  the  roundness,  when  all  thing  are 
well  joyned  together ;  and  the  plain  foreheads  are 
such  because  they  are  depressed  and  without  eleva- 
tion. The  diversities  of  foreheads  are.  the  great, 
the  little,  the  round,  the  ovall,  the  lean,  the  fat, 
the  broad,  the  narrow,  the  collected,  the  confused ; 
as  for  the  lines  and  veins,  they  are,  the  cloudie,  the 
straight,  the  concave,  the  slender  vein.  Upon  the 
forehead  we  place  the  seven  planets  upon  the  lines 
as  is  to  be  seen  in  the  figure ;  on  the  first  line  neer 
the  hair  is  h,  on  the  second  %%  on  the  3.  4,  on  the 
4,  0,  on  the  6.  and  lowest  9,  and  8  upon  the 
nose. 

The  Moon  on  the  left  eye,  and  the  Sun  on  the 
right.  Venus  at  the  root  of  the  nose.  Of  the  situa- 
tion of  the  said  planets  and  their  significations  we 
shall  speak  of  after  the  significations  of  the  diversity 
of  foreheads,  sith  these  two  are  all  that  is  compre- 
hended in  all  the  science  of  Metoposcopy. 

1.  A  great  and  spacious  forehead  signifies  a  slug- 
gish and  fearfull  person,  that  is  compared  to  the 
Ox ;  most  of  those  that  have  the  forehead  such,  are 
people  of  good  consciences,  not  given  to  do  any 
hurt,  they  are  very  fit  to  become  lawyers. 

2.  The  little  forehead  denotes  the  person  indo- 
cile, wicked,  and  given  to  mischief;  believing  no- 
thing but  his  own  foolish  opinions ;  they  are  com- 
pared among  the  beasts  to  the  cat  or  rat  of  Pharaoh. 
The  JEmperour  Caligula  had  it  so ;  so  also  was  he 
an  epitome  of  all  cruelty  and  cowardise,  and  would 
never  believe  any  person  of  authority. 

3.  The  broad  forehead  represents  a  person  glut- 
tonous and  unclean,  (especially  in  the  intercourse 
of  the  sexes*)  as  having  somewhat  of  the  nature  of 


560 

the  swine  :  such  persons  are  given  to  flattery,  pro- 
fessing in  shew  all  manner  of  friendship,  but  be- 
hinde  a  mans  back  they  are  his  enemies,  speaking 
evil  and  offensive  words,  and  scandalous  to  those 
whom  they  pretend  an  affection  to.  Bartholomew 
Codes  of  Bulloigne  says,  that  a  forehead  great  and 
broad  on  all  sides,  without  any  hair,  or  as  it  were, 
bald,  signifies  an  audacious  and  understanding 
person,  but  sometimes  malicious  and  very  wrathfull, 
and  not  legal,  and  oftimes  a  great  lyar. 

4.  A  forehead  pointed  at  the  temples  of  the  head, 
so  as  the  bones  do  almost  appear  without  the  flesh, 
signifies  vanity,  inconstancy,  little  capacity,  and 
not  much  resolution  in  business,  but  changeableness 
every  moment. 

5.  He  that  hath  the  forehead  somewhat  swollen 
by  reason  of  the  thickness  of  the  flesh,  at  the  tem- 
ples, as  if  he  had  jaws  or  cheeks  full  of  flesh,  it 
denotes  the  person  very  couragious  and  martial,  it 
is  one  of  the  marks  that  a  great  captain  should 
look  for  in  the  choice  of  his  soldiers;  moreover 
those  that  have  such  foreheads  are  proud,  easily 
angry,  and  forward  to  engage  themselves  in 
combats. 

6.  A  square  forehead,  denotes  according  to 
Aristotle,  magnanimity :  Quadrata  frans  (saith  he) 
pro  faciei  ratione  mediocris  magnanimos  ostendit  ob 
similitudinem  leonis.  Those  that  have  such  a  fore- 
head are  couragious  as  lions,  and  are  compared  to 
them  because  of  their  strength,  courage,  and  pru- 
dence.    See  Porta. 

7.  He  who  hath  the  forehead  wrinkled  and  low 
in  the  middle,  and  seems  as  it  were  double  in  the 
face,  neer  the  nose,  that  is  to  say  frowning,  wherein 


507 

there  is  a  valley  or  descent,  is  a  simple  person, 
magnanimous  in  adversity,  and  fortune  is  very  cruel 
and  cross  to  bim. 

8.  He  that  is  bald,  or  hath  little  hair  on  the  fore- 
part of  the  head,  having  the  forehead  plain,  and  the 
skin  delicate  and  smooth,  which  the  Greeks  call 
heyidrwv,  unless  it  be  the  superficies  of  the  nose,  is 
unconstant,  wrathfull,  and  ill-conditioned. 

9.  He  that  hath  the  forehead  gathered  together 
and  wrinkled,  is  a  flatterer,  and  hath  somewhat  of 
the  nature  of  a  dog ;  he  flatters,  but  it  is  for  to 
deceive. 

10.  The  concave  forehead,  which  hath  pits  and 
mounts,  is  a  signe  of  fearfulness,  deceit,  cheating, 
and  ambition.  Adamantius  saith,  Asperd  fronte 
ne  gaudeas,  neque  quae  fossas  monticulos  liabeat; 
omnia  namque  haec  signa  versutiam  et  infidelitatem 
nunciant,  et  interdum  stultitiam  et  insaniam:  he 
which  hath  a  frowning,  wrinkled,  and  capred  fore- 
head, which  is  a  word  comes  according  to  Varro, 
from  caperata,  et  crispis  carprarum  cornibus  assimi- 
latur,  is  of  a  Saturnine  humour  and  melancholick, 
and  denotes  one  that  thinks  more  than  he  speaks, 
premeditating  his  conceptions  before  he  effects 
them.  Such  a  one  was  Philip  Melancthon  ;  these 
persons  are  of  a  gentle  humour  and  familiar  con- 
versation ;  if  the  person  be  very  rich,  the  greater 
is  the  melancholy,  as  saith  Albertus  Magnus ;  Qui 
semper  frantis  rugas  contractus  habent,  melancholici 
et  res  magnas  cogitare  consueti. 

12.  A  clear  forehead  without  wrinkles,  signifies 
a  fairness  of  minde  as  well  as  of  body,  but  a  mali- 
cious disposition  given  to  debates,  suits,  and  con- 
tentions ;  the  most  part  that  have  it  so,  have  not 


568 

much  devotion  ;    the  great  Sidonius   Apollinaris 
saith,  that  Epicurus  had  it  so. 

13.  A  forehead  neither  strait,  nor  lean,  nor 
smooth,  nor  rough,  but  between  all,  signifies  a 
round-dealing  friendship  without  deceit  or  circum- 
vention. 

14.  The  cloudy  forehead,  and  having  black 
marks,  signifies  boldness ;  and  such  persons  are 
likened  to  bulls  and  lions,  who  are  in  perpetual 
choler. 

15.  Those  who  have  much  carnosity  about  the 
eyes,  so  that  their  eye-brows  hang  down  like  those 
of  hounds,  are  fraudulent,  cruell,  and  unmercifiill: 
deriving  their  cruelty  from  beasts  of  prey.  Sely- 
mus,  the  emperour  of  the  Turks  had  them  so,  and 
he  was  cruel,  bold,  a  great,  indefatigable,  and 
severe  warriour.  It  is  said  also  that  Charles  Duke 
of  Burgundy  had  them  so  too. 

16.  A  forehead,  that  upon  the  first  sight  appears 
sad,  severe  and  austere,  shews  a  strange  and  bar- 
barous humour,  prone  to  all  cruelties.  Such  are 
the  Arabians,  Cannibals,  Anthropophagi,  people 
that  know  no  pitty  ;  if  it  happen  they  be  of  a 
melancholick  humour,  they  are  likely  to  devour 
their  own  children,  as  saith  a  learned  author, 
11  Which  1  have  myself  observed  in  one  of  that 
humour,  who  was  executed  at  Eureux.  His  name 
was  Taurin,  living  neer  a  town  called  Le  Ventes, 
who  transported  with  madness  and  cruelty,  had 
eaten  his  own  children ;  there  were  some  thought 
him  wizard,  which  was  not  true,  it  being  only  folly 
seconded  by  melancholy  and  solitude  had  trans- 
ported him  to  that  inhumane  action. 

17.  A  depressed  and  low  forehead,  denotes  an 


669 

effeminate  person;  this  kinde  of  forehead  suits 
well  with  a  woman  ;  for  a  man  that  is  so,  hath  a 
low  and  abject  soul,  is  fearfiill,  servile,  effeminate, 
cowardly,  and  carried  away  with  the  many  words 
of  a  great  talker,  for  there  is  not  much  assurance 
in  their  words,  yet  he  is  overcome  by  the  speech 
of  the  most  simple  man  that  he  stands  in  fear  of. 

Now  seeing  we  have  represented  all  the  forms 
of  the  forehead,  in  pursuance  of  our  Metoposcopy, 
we  must  treat  of  the  lines  of  the  forehead  and  their 
significations,  and  afterwards  of  the  characters  of 
the  Planets,  and  the  Planets  themselves,  which 
signifie,  according  to  the  places  where  we  shall 
place  them  in  the  forehead,  an  abridgement  of  this 
great  world. 

The  lines  of  the  forehead  have  longitude,  lati- 
tude and  profundity,  and  begin  at  one  temple  and 
end  towards  the  other;  the  which  lines  by  their 
aspect,  represent  unto  us  the  evil  or  good  fortune 
of  the  person ;  those  veins  are  Planetary.  A  Pla- 
netary line  is  that  which  is  referred  to  some  of  the 
Planets,  which  are  placed  on  the  forehead*  as  is 
before  mentioned :  but  because  that  in  all  fore- 
heads there  doth  not  appear  perfectly  all  the  lines, 
we  shall  draw  our  more  particular  judgments  from 
those  of  the  Sun  and  Moon  which  infallibly  appear 
on  all  foreheads ;  upon  the  eye-brows,  that  of  the 
Sun  upon  the  right,  and  that  of  the  Moon  on  the 
left ;  but  it  is  more  easie  to  judge  of  those  who 
have  all  the  lines,  some  having  them  more  appa- 
rent, others  less.  The  first  line  which  is  that  of 
Saturn,  appears  neer  the  hair ;  that  which  is  under 
it  is  Jupiter's,  the  third  belongs  to  Mars,  the  other 
four  are  in  the  superficies  of  the  forehead,  as  the  Sun 

4c 


570 

and  Moon  upon  the  eyes,  Mercury  neer  the  grissell 
of  the  nose,  Venus  above  it  between  the  eyes.  So 
there  you  have  the  number  of  the  planets  observed, 
and  them  placed  according  to  the  celestial  rale; 
Saturn  highest,  Jupiter  next,  then  Mars,  the  Sun 
under  Mars,  Venus  fift,  Mercury  under  her,  and 
the  Moon  neer  the  left  eye-brow,  and  the  Sun  at 
the  right,  and  Venus  at  the  root  of  the  nose ;  and 
by  these  places  we  are  shewed  the  analogy  and 
proportion  which  there  is  between  the  great  and 
little  world,  even  as  experience  confirms  it,  and 
reason  demonstrates  these  motions,  being  like  those 
of  the  heavens ;  the  nose  and  the  bone  of  the  Vertex 
being  the  imaginary  poles  whereon  these  planets 
move. 

In  these  lines  we  must  observe  the  characters 
which  are  given  them  as  marks  of  the  planets,  and 
are  the  infallible  signs  of  the  temperaments,  and  of 
man's  life,  that  we  can  discover ;  whereby  we  also 
know  the  duration  and  length  thereof.  These 
marks  are  crosses,  circles,  warts,  and  such  like  cha- 
racters, which  commonly  are  found  in  men's  fore- 
heads ;  and  it  is  to  be  considered  upon  which  veins 
they  are ;  for  without  doubt,  the  man  shall  derive 
somewhat  from  that  planet  where  the  character 
shall  be,  rather  then  from  any  other.  The  signifi- 
cations of  the  planetary  lines  are  either  general, 
when  they  are  accommodated  to  all  the  lines  of  the 
planets,  or  special.  The  general  significations  of 
the  lines  of  the  planets,  afford  us  these  canons 
and  aphorisms. 

1 .  The  lines  of  the  planets  either  all  in  general, 
or  each  in  particular,  some  are  fortunate,  others 
unfortunate :  those  which  are  fortunate,  are  those 


571 

which  are  strait,  or  bend  a  little  towards  the  nose, 
if  they  be  equal,  continued,  and  not  dissected,  nor 
distracted,  nor  barred  in  like  obelisks. 

2.  Those  that  are  not  well  placed  and  unfor- 
tunate, are  those  that  are  much  winding,  approach- 
ing a  semicircle  globe,  or  obelisk. 

3.  Simple  and  straight  lines  denote  a  simple, 
good,  and  honest  soul,  without  any  malice. 

4.  The  oblique,  indexed,  and  sometimes  the 
distorted  lines  denote  variety :  craft,  cheating,  to 
be  short,  all  mischief  and  deceit. 

5.  If  the  right  line  of  the  forehead  be  oblique, 
that  is,  on  the  side  attributed  to  the  Sun,  it  signi- 
fies malice. 

6.  If  the  veins  of  the  masculine  planets  look 
towards  the  left  side,  and  be  plain ;  and  if  that  of 
Mercury,  which  is  sometimes  masculine  and  some- 
times feminine,  look  towards  the  feminines  in  the 
same  manner,  it  denotes  nothing  but  evil. 

7.  Many  lines  signifie  nothing  else  but  a  multi- 
tude of  changeable  affaire. 

8.  The  fewness  and  simplicity  of  the  lines,  de- 
notes a  certain  simplicity  in  affairs. 

9.  When  the  lines  encrease  and  decrease,  they 
represent  some  great  affair,  according  as  the  cha- 
racter of  the  planets  shall  denote. 

10.  Jupiter's  line  being  mean  and  reflected,  shews 
some  great  and  happy  gain  with  honour  and  good 
report. 

The  general  significations  of  the  planets  most 
commonly  include  the  special ;  that  is  to  say,  some 
planets  are  referred  to  certain  lines,  as  we  said,  or 
judged  of  them. 

1.  If  the  lines  be  great  and  not  winding,  long 


572 

(especially  that  of  Saturn  and  Jupiter,  as  also  those 
Of  Saturn  and  Mars ;)  and  very  apparent,  they  de- 
note most  exorbitant  and  mischievous  actions. 

2.  If  the  line  of  Jupiter  be  longer  then  that  of 
Saturn,  it  denotes  riches,  and  all  other  things  that 
are  obtained  by  Jupiter. 

3.  If  the  line  of  Mars  exceed  the  others,  let  the 
captain  that  chooses  souldiers  observe  it ;  for  those 
that  are  so,  are  great  warriours,  and  have  no  other 
ambition  then  to  raise  a  fortune  by  the  war ;  and 
especially,  if  there  be  a  cross  upon  that  line,  and 
not  a  semicircle,  it  speaks  a  very  cholerick  humour, 
and  a  good  fortune  by  following  Bellona. 

4.  A  line  broken  or  discontinued,  especially  that 
of  Saturn  and  Mars,  denotes  misfortune  in  war. 

5.  If  two  lines  or  three  be  in  the  place  of  Mer- 
cury, and  if  they  be  apparent  and  straight,  simple 
and  equal,  they  denote  the  person  eloquent  and 
wise,  and  very  honest. 

6.  If  there  be  more  then  three  lines,  and  be 
straight,  and  bending  at  the  extremity,  they  signifie 
loquacity,  prating,  detraction,  deceit,  inconstancy, 
lying,  simulation,  and  dissimulation. 

7.  If  the  lines  be  such  in  the  forehead  of  a  wo- 
man, she  is  talkative,  abusive,  prating,  a  scold,  a 
sorceresse,  given  to  unlawfull  arts,  knowing  some 
foolish  verses,  useless  in  incantation, 

8.  Two  or  three  lines  being  at  the  root  of  the 
nose  and  cut  in  the  middle,  signifie  a  lascivious  per* 
son,  and  one  much  transported  with  that  vice. 

9.  The  line  of  the  Sun  being  perfect,  kmg  enough, 
and  not  interrupted  or  cut,  signifies  honours  and 
riches  given  by  Kings,  and  Princes. 

10.  The  Moon  line  being  clear,  distinct  and  per- 


573 

feet  above  the  left  eye,  signifies  much  travel  into 
strange  nations,  and  some  abode  by  the  way. 

And  this  is  all  we  have  as  to  the  judgements  of 
the  forehead,  of  which  depends  Metoposcopy. 
Yet  to  satisfie  the  ingenious  reader,  I  will  particu- 
larly demonstrate  the  same,  and  then  I  shall  bestow 
the  next  chapter  for  to  treat  of  what  is  superna- 
tural in  this  science. 


Cfjat  tbt  fifbnt  f9Unet0,  fifing  place*  on 

ttft  forrfjrair,  ttir  tmtlbt  Sbitn*  of  tbt 

Zodiac  axt  tbtve  also  tottfi  tbtiv 

Spirit*  arxti  inttUiQtntt*. 

There  can  be  no  greater  sympathie,  then  is  be- 
tween the  celestial  and  elementary  bodies.  There 
is  (as  1  hare  often  said  before)  such  an  analogy  be- 
tween all  our  members  and  the  superiour  bodies, 
that  there  is  no  member  which  is  not  governed  by 
those  influences  either  generally  or  particularly 
The  harmony  of  these  stars  is  the  total  of  our  body ; 
as  to  the  particular  partis,  all  in  all,  as  the  face  in 
general,  and  in  particular  the  forehead.  And  there* 
fore  the  ancient  Hebrews  called  these  celestial 
bodies  by  the  names  of  spirits,  and  have  attributed 
to  them  secret  intelligences  and  genii ;  and  those 
over  whom  any  particular  star,  as  i?,  %,  9,  &c.  do 
powerfully  govern,  are  powerfully  actuated  by  the 
influence  of  that  star,  or  its  Genius.  Now  upon 
the  forehead  may  be  discovered  the  spirit  or  go- 
verning genius ;  as  if  ft  be  Saturn,  it  is  Sabathiel 
who  hath  two  under  him,  which  are  referred  to  his 


571 

two  houses,  that  is  Capriel  to  Yf ,  and  Aquariel  to 
■sr,  or  else  Gediel  and  Deliel.  If  it  be  Jupiter  that 
governs  the  forehead,  it  is  Zedekiel,  who  hath  these 
two,  Sagitariel  and  Pisciel,  on  Acabiel,  Dagimiel. 
If  it  be  Mars,  it  is  Madimiel,  and  his  houses,  Tele- 
teriel,  Acabriel,  or  else  Ariel,  Scorpiel;  if  it  be  the 
Sun,  it  is  Semeliel,  or  Leoniel.  If  it  be  the  Moon, 
Jarchael,  or  Levanael,  her  house  Sartamiel ;  if  it 
be  Venus,  Mogahel,  her  houses  Suriel,  Maniel.  If 
Mercury,  Cochabiel,  his  houses  Tomiel,  Betuliel ; 
the  latter  of  these  referred  to  Mercury,  was  that 
which  governed  Appollonius  Thianneus,  which 
he  knew  by  the  Brachmanes ;  and  that  is  it  which 
with  that  of  the  Moon  that  is  next  the  earth,  and 
consequently  easie  to  be  allured  and  drawn  to  us : 
Arbatel  gives  the  faculties  of  this  Spirit,  Betuliel 
to  Aratron,  whose  faculties  and  spirits  are  1.  To 
transform  tne  most  vile  mettals  into  fine  gold  and 
silver.  2.  To  turn  treasures  into  charcoal,  or 
charcoal  into  treasures.  3.  It  teaches  Chymistry, 
Magick,  and  Physick.  4.  It  appears  like  little 
men  as  pigmeys.  5.  Makes  men  invisible,  and  6. 
Makes  sterile  things  fruitful.  It  is  an  easie  matter 
to  know  whether  the  person  be  governed  by  it ;  for 
if  he  have  four  lines  above  the  root  of  the  nose, 
and  if  those  lines  be  hollow,  and  make  the  extre- 
mity wrinkled,  doubtless  the  person  is  governed  by 
it ;  if  besides  he  be  melancholick  ;  sometimes  the 
lines  are  fair  and  clear,  as  Apol.  Tyan.  had  them. 
And  that  denotes  a  great  force  in  the  possession  of 
this  spirit,  nay  speaks  apparent  miracles.  I  be- 
lieve that  the  brothers  of  the  Rosecrusian  possesse 
it ;  it  is  an  order  sprung  up  within  these  late  years 
n  Germany,  that  at  present  doth  miracles  through  all 


575 

Europe.      These  brothers  have  some  admirable 
secrets  of  the  sciences  mentioned  before,  together 
with  an  ardent  zeal  towards  the  superior  powers, 
and  enter  acquaintance  with  all  knowing  men  who 
acknowledge  the  true  God,  and  part  not  from  them 
without  doing  them  some  good.    They  know  al- 
most all  things  to  come,  as  may  be  seen  by  their 
predictions.     They  have  taken  the  name  of  bro- 
thers to  avoid  the  vanity  of  that  name  of  fathers 
forbidden  in  the  Scripture;   they  know  the  lan- 
guages of  the  countries  where  they  are  to  dwell ; 
they  are  well  acquainted  with  the  tongues,   the 
Hebrew,  Chaldean,  Syriak,  Arabick,  and  all  the 
Oriental   languages,    the   Greek,   Latine,   Italian, 
Spanish,  French,  Sclavonian,  Germane,  and  make 
Lexicons  of  them,  moreover  they  are  skilled  in  the 
Civil  Law,  the  Galenic k  and  Paracelsick  Physick, 
the  Aristotelick  and  Raraick  philosophy,  the  liberal 
arts ;    to  he  short,    they  are  an  epitome  of  all 
sciences.     As  for  their  religion,  their  tenets  are 
very  pure.     Henry  Nehusio  a  German  physician 
accuses   them   for  Anabaptists,    for   having    the 
opinions  of  Socinas  ;    tis  true  they  have  no  certain 
place  for  their  prayers,  which  require  great  medi- 
tation ;  they  live  in  an  unanimous  society,  abound- 
ing with  money ;   their  vows  are  somewhat  neer 
those  of  Appollon.  Tyan.  but  besides  the  plurality 
of  the  Gods  they  also  possess  his  genius ;   they 
have  the  lines  before  mentioned  above  the  root  or 
grissel  of  the  nose,  and  so  they  are  discovered,  as 
also  may  be  known  the  diversity  of  the  lines  where 
the  Planets  are  situated,  and  their  characters  which 
may  be  seen  in  Cor.  A  grip,  in  the  3  book,  and  29 
chap,  of  his  Philosoph.  Occult,  which  I  would  not 


576 


put  down  here,  to  avoid  prolixity.  But  when  once 
they  are  known,  it  may  be  judged  of  the  Genius 
and  temperament  by  the  inspection  of  the  fore- 
head, which  is  the  only  subject  of  Metoposcopy. 


m  tbt  Judgements,  of  fbt  mannttt, 

an*  of  tbt  *o*a,  *»  tbt  Colour, 

an*  otbtt  nttitotnt*. 

The  colours  of  the  body,  and  especially  of  the 
face,  denote  the  humour  and  inclination  of  the 
person ;  and  by  the  external  colour  and  accidents, 
the  Physiognomist  must  judge  of  the  internal  and 
faculties  of  the  soul.  As  blackness  in  a  man  if  it 
be  shining,  is  a  sign  of  adustion,  as  well  in  the 
members  as  in  the  hair.  The  black  colour  denotes 
a  man  slow  in  his  actions,  not  much  given  to  war, 
as  being  of  a  heavy  and  fearfull  humour,  without 
courage,  if  not  occasionally;  but  he  is  cautious, 
neat,  and  subtile,  and  fit  for  counsel,  or  for  some 
secret  enterprise,  nay  a  treason  if  need  be;  such 
was  Ulysses,  who  carried  the  garland  in  the  Tro- 
jan victories,  and  was  preferred  before  Ajax ;  the 
most  part  of  those  who  are  so  coloured  are  born 
towards  the  south  parts.  A  green  colour  that  is 
obscure  and  black,  speaks  a  cholerick  person; 
those  who  are  ruddy  or  altogether  red,  and  are 
lean  withall,  are  neat,  cunning,  and  subtile ;  which 
is  the  reason  of  this  proverb :  Few  little  men  are 
humble,  and  red  faithfull ;  but  those  that  are  big, 
fat,  and  have  the  hair  of  the  head  of  another 
colour  whether  it  be  chesnut  or  olive  colour,  are 


joviaiisls  and  honest  people,  open  without  paint- 
ing or  cheating ;  but  if  the  hair  be  black,  beware ; 
the  proverb  saith, 

Of  a  red  beard  and  black  hair, 
If  th'art  wise,  thou'lt  have  a  care. 

Those  that  have  the  face  pale,  and  leady,  yet 
have  the  forehead  red,  and  the  eyes  depressed,  are 
extreamly  shamefaced,  much  subject  to  passion  and 
choler ;  they  are  never  at  rest  with  themselves, 
thinking  always  that  some  others  plot  and  conspire 
against  them ;  all  fancies  are  phantasmes  to  them 
if  melancholick ;  the  fingers  of  their  hands  seem 
mountains ;  the  least  sight  unaccustomed  to  them 
seems  to  be  a  place  full  ot  furies,  which  is  the  subject 
of  their  discourse ;  and  indeed  by  such  sick  minds 
as  these,  these  doleful  places  have  been  invented  ; 
poets  and  others  have  drawn  their  descriptions 
from  these  fantastick  imaginations,  and  thence  de- 
scribed the  pains  and  torments  which  are,there  exer- 
cised. The  Abbot  Odo  was  of  such  a  colour,  and 
he  was  the  first  that  since  the  year  of  salvation, 
hath  given  us  these  descriptions,  which  have  been 
subscribed  unto  and  received  by  them  that  be- 
lieved them. 

-  A  whitish  red  colour,  which  the  Latines  call 
candidier,  and  the  Greeks  Xaxbv  vrriptl^qov,  signifies 
a  man  debonair  and  familiar,  and  couragious  and 
gallant  as  to  matter  of  war.  The  learned  Galen  in 
his  Art  of  Medicine,  saith,  Signum  optima  tempe- 
rature, id  est  calida  et  humidce,  esse  colorem  com- 
mixtum  ex  albo  et  rubro.  And  Aristotle  as  to 
the  significations  of  it,  says,  In  idea  ingeniosi,  mon- 
strat  candidum  colorem,  optimum  ingeniumdeno tare: 

4  D 


578 

and  since   him  Alberlus  Magnus  :    Color  medius 
inter  album  et  rubrum,  declinans  ad  prunum,  si  est 
clarus  boni  ingenii  et  bonorum  index.     It  is  held 
that  Alexander  the  Great  was  of  this  colour,  though 
Apelles  painted  him  sordid  and   dark   coloured ; 
but  Plutarch  represents  him  to  us  of  this  white 
ruddy  colour,  a  colour  whereof  the  sweat  is  very 
sweet  and  pleasant,  and  such  had  the  said  Alexan- 
der, as  Aristoxenes  represents  him :  for  my  part, 
I  am  of  opinion  that  such  persons  are  jovial,  and  of 
good  conversation,  desiring  nothing  so  much  as 
mirth ;  they  have  a  good  understanding,  but  not  so 
much  as  to  employ  it  in  the  study  of  the  sciences ; 
they  are  cholerick  and  couragious,  but  their  choler 
lasts  not  long ;  most  part  of  your  northern  people 
are  of  this  colour  and  complexion.      A  high  white 
colour  is  to  be  admired  among  those  that  profess 
they  love  beauties ;    it  is  very  recommendable  in 
women,  and  much  desired  by  those  who  affect  to 
pass  half  their  age  in  the  pleasures  of  this  life, 
which  are  for  the  most  pail  the  pains  of  their  lives, 
that  they  may  afterwards  bait  the   hook   for  the 
zealous  ones  of  these  times  to  catch  others.    Tb 
true  this  colour  is  very  fit  for  a  woman,  who  of  her 
self  is  luxurious  and  fearfull ;  but  not  to  a  man, 
for  it  would  speak  him  effeminate :    Arist.  in  his 
Physiog.  says,  Albus  color  in  homine  excedens,  de- 
mons t  rat  faemineum.     We  have  amongst  us  some 
kindreds  that  are  thus  excessively  white ;    and  the 
women  are   extremely  luxurious ;    and  the  men 
tender,  fearfull,  short-sighted,  and  like  to  take  the 
occasion  of  doing  any  imposture. 

The  brown  colour  mingled  with  pale,  which  the 
La  tines  call  sublividus,  the  Greeks  irrroxhuqov,  i.  e. 


o$9 

subflavus,  denotes  a  glutton,  a  great  talker,  one 
easily  angry  and  one  that  speaks  immoderately ;  it 
also  signifies  folly  joyned  with  cruelty ;  and  the 
most  part  of  those  that  -embrace  novelty  in  matter 
of  divine  worship,  are  of  this  colour:  they  will 
have  men  receive  whatever  they  conceive  in  their 
corrupt  imagination,  and  advance  with  their  flatter- 
ing speeches,  as  articles  and  decrees  of  heaven ;  by 
this  reason,  and  by  their  sottish  inventions  they 
make  men  beleeve  and  adore  things  whereof  anti- 
quity that  adored  a  plurality  of  Gods,  would  be 
ashamed,  and  Herodotus  would  blush  to  write,  as 
being  too  apparent  impostures.  These  persons  do 
much  envy  others,  and  especially  those  of  their  pro- 
fession ;  as  for  the  pale,  Martial  says. 

Omnibus  iovideas  Livide,  nemo  tibi. 

Those  that  have  a  flushing  colour,  are  not  far 
from  madness,  as  having  extraordinary  heat.  Pole- 
mon  says,  Color  Jiammeus  furiosos  indicat :  Alber. 
Magnus,  Ignitus  color  cum  lucentibus  oculis  ad  in- 
saniam  vergentem  hominem  not  at.  This  colour  de- 
notes not  only  an  ardent  desire  of  things  present 
and  of  small  consequence,  but  also  things  to  come ; 
for  there  wants  not  a  vivacity  of  spirit.  Tis  thought 
the  prophetess  Cassandra  was  of  this  colour,  having 
shining  eyes ;  such  were  David,  Daniel,  and  Esdras, 
who  in,  their  fury  have  spoken  great  things  at  cer- 
tain times.  A  squallid  colour  doth  not  signifie 
any  thing  but  strength,  as  Aristotle  witnesses,  Qui 
in  figura  fortis  viri  tribuit  colorem  squall  idior em 
avxnparrepov.  The  most  part  of  those  that  are  given 
to  the  wars,  are  no  sheep  or  cowards,  and  hate 


.:;  o 


those  that  trim  up  and  varnish  their  complexion . 
as  for  them,  they  are  squallid,  and  all  dusty  through 
their  military  exercises,  not  studying  any  thing  hui 
stratagems  and  feats  of  war,  to  the  end  they  may 
transmit  an  immortal  fame  to  posterity. 


Z$t  Juttonnents  of  tfyt  $niv&  auov^inz 
to  Vbtiv  *mt)0tatue  anti  tolonro. 

The  hair  is  one  of  the  parts  that  adorn  the  head 
of  man,  but  especially  of  a  woman ;   for  a  woman 
of  quality  husbands  them  to   the  advancement  of 
her  beauty  :  the  Apostle  permits  her  to  please  her 
husband.      The  ancient  Gauls  wore  long  hair  in 
token  of  their  liberty  ;  in  the  Old  Testament  there 
is  mention  of  the  hair  of  Sampson  and  Absalom, 
which  was  also  bestowed  upon   the  daughters  of 
Jerusalem  for  to  adorn  themselves  withall.    Lvcur- 
gus  commanded  his  citizens  to  wear  their  hair  lonu, 
that  so  they  might  be  more  fair  and  decent.     Cha- 
rilaus   being   asked  why   he  wore    his   hair  Ion*, 
answered,  Quia  ex  omui  ornatu  hie  jjulchrior  foret, 
<Vt\      SilviiH     Italicus    in    the    commendation    of 
Scipio,  says, 

Maitia  fi<  >  .«,  lane  «jnr  coma,  nor  pone  rotorquct, 
r,T-aiin  <  In vv.or. 

i'iiii*  nan,  as  i\\c   poets  say,   are  the   prisons  4^ 


W 1 

* 

Cupid,  and  heretofore,  nay  at  present  the  ladies 
make  rings  and  bracelets  of  it,  as  Martial  witnesses. 

Unus  de  t«»to  pcccaverat  orbc  uomnrum 
Annul  us,  incertu  vix  bene  fixu*  acu. 

The  hair  therefore  being  a  part  of  Physiognomic, 
we  draw  these  Judgements  from  their  substance, 
which  we  shall  lay  down  here  by  way  of  aphorisms 
and  canons. 

1.  Hair  that  is  thick,  and  soft,  denotes  a  man  of 
much  mildness,  and  of  a  constitution  cold  and 
moist';  for  the  farther  the  brain  is  from  heat,  the 
head  is  more  hairy ;  the  heat  of  man  that  goes  to 
the  superiour  parts  pierces  everywhere  the  skin  of 
the  head,  and  makes  acertaiu  humour  to  issue  out 
of  the  pores ;  and  the  more  subtile  part  of  this 
humour  vanishes  away,  but  that  which  is  more 
.^ross  remains  within  and  turns  into  hair,  which  is 
more  solid  then  the  fleshy  skin,  and  the  hairs  are 
broader  then  the  pores,  so  long  as  the  impetuosity 
and  force  which  drives  them  out  is  great. 

2.  When  the  hair  hangs  down  and  is  soft,  it 
denote?  a  humid  complexion  and  sanguine ;  and 
when  they  grow  fast,  it  is  a  sign  the  body  will 
shortly  decline  to  dryness,  and  not  to  moisture. 
And  when  the  heat  and  draught  are  joyned,  the 
hair  comes  out  fastest,  and  more  thick. 

3.  Much  hair  denotes  a  hot  person,  and  the  bigness 
thereof  his  choler,  and  that  he  is  soon  angry:  this 
plenty  of  hair  happens  more  to  young  then  to  old 
men  and  children  ;  for  in  these  the  matter  is  more 
tapourous  then  moist,  but  in  young  men  the  con- 
trary; wherefore  contraries  follow  their  contraries 


582 

4.  Abundance  of  hair  in  young  children,  shews 
their  complexion  increases,  and  augments  with 
melaincholy. 

5.  Curled  hair  and  black,  denotes  heat  and 
drought;  the  people  of  the  south  have  it  for  the 
most  part  alike,  especially  the  Ethiopians ;  it  pro- 
ceeds from  the  crookedness  of  the  pores ;  as  for 
their  signification,  Aristotle  says,  Qui  capillos  nimis 
crispos  habent  timidi  sunt,  et  ad  JEthiopes  referuntur. 

6.  Hair  standing  up  an  end  like  the  prickles  of 
a  hedge-hog,  signifies  a  fearfull  person,  and  an  ill 
courage ;  of  the  hair  that  falls  upon  the  forehead 
towards  the  nose,  Aristotle  says,  it  rS  iierwm  to 

irpo*  rev  K€(paXrjv  avdatWov  ikcfi&epioi  'eiai,  avaf&povrai 
w/x}*  rov9  \iovras. 

7.  Smooth  and  plain  hair,  denotes  a  person  of 
a  good  understanding,  placable,  courteous,  tracta- 
ble, and  somewhat  fearfull. 

8.  When  the  hairs  are  delicate  and  clear,  they 
signifie  a  man  of  a  weak  complexion,  and  subject 
to  sickness.  As  for  the  colours  of  hair,  we  must 
in  the  first  place  consider  the  climate  ;  for  the 
meridional  people  are  for  the  most  part  black  and 
curled ;  the  northern,  who  inhabit  cold  countries, 
are  flaxen-haired,  of  a  yellowish  colour,  their  hair 
being  full  and  close,  and  therefore  they  are  not 
altogether  cold,  but  rather  their  temperament  and 
humour  is  very  hot,  the  heat  in  the  Winter  time, 
being  locked  up  as  we  see  in  the  bosom  of  the 
earth.  As  for  the  rest,  the  Oriental  have  their  hair 
of  a  chestnut  colour,  fair  and  very  small ;  the  Occi- 
dental have  it  blacker  and  more  rough ;  yet  it  is 
not  absolutely  assured  that  all  those  countries 
should  have  them  so ;   for  such  a  one  is  black  th»* 


583 

hath  black  hair;  he  that  hath  them  yellow  or 
flaxen,  white  ;  red  or  brown,  may  be  said  to  have 
them  fair,  &c.  As  for  their  significations  they 
are  these.  N 

1.  White  hair  signifies  a  great  frigidity,  as  may 
be  seen  in  old  men,  whose  hair  becomes  white  by 
reason  of  frigidity  and  siccity,  as  it  happens  to 
vegetables  which  when  they  dry,  change  their 
black  or  green  into  white  ;  and  that  happens  many 
times  after  great  drying  diseases. 

2.  We  are  to  mark  that  there  are  but  four  prin* 
cipal  colours  of  hairs,  viz.  black,  red,  flaxen,  and 
white  or  grey :  the  white  proceeds  from  want  of 
natural  heat,  or  corrupted  flegm,  yet  they  signifie 
slippery  and  evil  conditions. 

3.  Black  hair  proceeds  from  an  excessive  adust 
choler,  or  adust  and  hot  blood. 

4.  Red  hail  denotes  a  head  not  adust  but  dimini- 
shed and  moderate. 

5.  Hair  of  the  colour  of  gold,  denote  a  treach- 
erous person,  having  a  good  understanding  but 
mischievous.  Red  hair  enclining  to  black,  signifies 
a  deceitfull  and  malicious  person,  whose  sweat  is 
most  loathsom  and  fit  to  make  the  narcotick  un- 
guent with  the  blood  of  the  line  of  life  of  a  dead 
man,  >  and  other  ingredients,  as  may  be  seen  in 
Porta's  Natural  Magick. 

6.  Chestnut  coloured  hair,  denotes  a  fair  and 
just  person  without  deceit.  So  much  shall  suffice 
as  to  the  hair. 


584 


<&t  t$t  <S»ea,  anii  fbtiv  atgnififattone* 

The  principal  efficacy  and  perfection  of  Physi- 
ognoraie  consisteth  in  the  eyes,  as  being  tcarorclpov 
tv*  'tyvxn**  Speculum  Animi,  the  doors  or  outlets  of 
the  brest,  the  index  of  the  countenance,  the  con- 
servators and  dispensators  of  the  cogitations,  the 
minde  is  as  apertly  conversant  in  the  eyes  as  in  a 
market,  they  being  indexes  of  love,  mercy,  wrath, 
and  revenge  :    the  minde  resolute,  the  eyes  prosi- 
liate,  being  humble,  they  subsidate,  in  love  they  are 
amorous,  in  hatred  revengefull,  the  heart  cheerfull 
they  smile,  being  sorrowfull  they  languish.   Where- 
fore we  may  from  the  eyes  discover  the  good  or 
ill  disposition  of  persons ;   therefore  Homer  calk 
Minerva  a  blue-eyed  lass,  and  Venus  black-eyed, 
ary&v  baicwnha,  to  represent  the  prudence  of  the  one 
and  luxury  of  the  other.     And  that  is  the  reason 
the  left   eye  is  attributed  to  Venus ;    for  if  in  a 
woman  that  eye  be  shining,  and  move,  the  eye-lids 
fat,  it  signifies  much  inclination  to  lasciviousness, 
especially  if  that  woman  be  olive-coloured  or  yel- 
lowish with  her  black  eyes,  as  Venus  is  described 
by  Hesiod  Ataxpvariv  AfooSiras,  never  look  for  any 
shamefastness  in  such  a  woman. 

1.  Great  and  big  eyes,  denote  a  slothful],  bold, 
and  lying  person,  and  a  rustick  and  unsavory 
minde. 

2.  Eyes  of  divers  colours,  especially  the  right, 
which  is  attributed  to  the  Sun,  denote  a  man 
agitated  with  divers  passions  and  opinions,  espe- 
cially in  matters  of  religion ;  it  is  said  that  Michael 
Servet  had  them  so. 


5tto 

3.  Eyes  deep  in  the  head,  that  is  to  say,  hollow, 
denote  a  great  minde,  yet  full  of  doubts ;  if  they 
are  green,  they  signifie  admirable  knowledge,  yet 
accompanied  with  malice,  luxury,  and  envy  ;  if 
they  are  red,  it  discovers  the  nature  of  the  cat. 

4.  Eminent  and  apparent  eyes  of  a  wall  colour, 
denote  a  simple,  foolish,  and  prodigal  person. 

5.  Sharp  and  piercing  eyes  that  decline  the  eye- 
brows, denote  a  deceiver,  and  a  secret  and  lawless 
person. 

6.  Little  eyes  like  those  of  a  mole,  or  pig, 
denote  a  weak  understanding,  and  one  fit  to  be 
made  a  cuckold,  as  who  believes  all  is  said  to 
him. 

7.  Beware  squint-eyes,  for  of  a  hundred  there 
are  not  two  faithfull. 

8.  Eyes  that  move  much,  and  look  slowly,  yet 
sharply,  and  that  with  some  reclination  of  the  flesh 
of  the  eye-brows,  denote  an  unfaitlifull,  slothfull, 
and  riotous  person. 

9.  The  worst  of  all  eyes  are  the  yellowish,  citron, 
and  cerused  ;  beware  of  them,  as  also  of  those  wrho 
when  they  speak  to  thee  twinkle ;  for  those  that 
have  such  eyes  are  double  minded;  if  it  be  a 
woman  that  doth  so  with  her  left  eye,  trust  her  not 
as  to  the  faithfulness  of  her  love,  and  observe  where 
she  casts  her  amorous  looks 


$f>g0iognomital  019110  fatten  from  tbt 

vatt*  of  tbt  &sr0+ 

1.   The  angles  of  the  eyes  over  long,  indicate 
malevolent  conditions. 


586 

2.  The  Angles  being  short,  a  laudable  nature; 
if  the  angles  neer  the  nose  are  fleshy,  they  inti- 
mate a  hot  constitution,  and  improbity. 

3.  The  balls  of  the  eyes  equal,  declare  justice; 
unequal,  the  contrary. 

4.  The  circles  in  the  eyes  of  divers  colours,  and 
dry,  declare  fraudulency  and  vanity ;  but  moyst, 
demonstrate  fortitude,  prudence,  and  eloquence. 

5.  The  lower  circle  green,  and  the  upper  black, 
it  is  ascertain  sign  of  a  deceptious  and  fraudulent 
person. 

6.  And  lastly,  eyes  of  a  mean  bigness,  clear  and 
shining,  are  signs  of  an  ingenious  and  honest  man. 


A  face  very  fleshie,  signifies  a  fearful!  person, 
merry,  liberal,  discreet,  luxurious,  faithfull  to 
another,  importunate  to  obtain  his  will,  but  pre- 
sumptuous. 

2.  A  lean  face,  denotes  a  man  wise,  of  a  good 
understanding,  but  rather  cruell  than  mercifull. 

3.  A  round  and  little  face,  denotes  a  man  sim- 
ple, weak,  and  of  an  ill  memory. 

4.  Who  hath  a  long  and  lean  face,  is  audacious 
in  words  and  deeds ;  he  is  riotous,  injurious,  and 
luxurious. 

5.  He  that  hath  a  broad  and  thick  face,  is 
clownish,  and  a  boaster. 

C.  He  that  is  of  a  pale  coloured  face,  is  not 
healthy,  and  hath  an  oppilation  of  the  spleen. 


687 

7.  He  that  hath  it  vermillion,  is  good,  wise,  and 
capable  of  all  good  thirfgs. 

8.  He  that  hath  it  white,  womanish,  soft  and 
cold,  is  tender  and  effeminate ;  this  colour  suits 
well  with  women ;  for  such  are  good  natured,  but 
fit  for  men. 

9.  A  red  face,  denotes  according  to  the  proverb, 
a  hot  complexion. 

10.  A  violet  or  leady  colour,  signifies  a  mischiev- 
ous person  and  Saturnine,  who  does  nothing  but 
plot  treasons  and  pernicious  enterprizes :  such  was 
that  of  Brutus  and  Cassius,  as  also  of  Nero.  So 
much  for  that,  now  we  come  to  speak  of  the 
humours. 


©f  tbt  four  smmour*,  or  ftr  mprrattunt* 

of  Dftan* 

The  Hebrews  transported  with  deep  medita- 
tions in  their  ghematry,  attribute  high  and  secret 
things  to  the  quartenary,  which  Pythagoras,  who 
had  been  a  little  nursed  in  their  school,  had  ob- 
served as  a  most  mysterious  number,  calling  it 
Tetractin ;  and  their  great  and  solemn  oath  was  by 
that  number,  as  may  be  seen  by  these  verses, 

Juro  ego  per  sanctum  puxft  tibi  mente  Quaternum, 
iEternae  fontem  naturae,  animiam  parent  era. 

Now  the  reason  why  the  Hebrews  honoured  this 
number,  was  because  God  had  appeared  to  them 
in  this  name,  nin1  four-lettered,  which  was  so 
venerable  that  no  nation  hath  translated  into  its 
proper  idiom  and  natural  language,  but  they  have 


588 


given  it  four  letters,  that  they  might  correspond 
with  the  Hebrews,  as  the*  Egyptians,  Arabians, 
Persians,  Mages,  Mahumetans,  Greeks,  Tuscans, 
Latines,  French,  Italian,  Spanish,  &c: ;  that  is  to 
say  thus,  Th,eut,  Abla,  Sire,  Orsi,  Abdi,  Q€6s9  Esar, 
Deus,  Dieu,  Dios,  &c.  by  the  four  letters  of  the  name 
of  God ;  the  Hebrew  mecubalists  comprehend  this 
all,  as  well  the  celestial  world  as  the  elementary, 
and  by  the  secret  of  their  ghematry,  placed  their 
table  thus. 


The    Elemen- 
tary World 


The   Celestial 
World 


The  Epitomi- 
sed World 


• 

Jod 

He 

Vau 

< 

Cheth 

> 

n 

i 

n 

Fire 

Air 

Earth 

Water 

Michael 

Raphael 

- 

Gabriel 

Uriel 

Cholcr 

Blood 

Melancholy 

i 
i 

Flogme    i 

1 

These  worlds  thus  placed,  represent  unto  us 
what  we  should  look  for  as  the  greatest  secret  of 
them ;  for  this  great  world,  called  by  the  Greeks 
Megacosmos,  composed  of  the  first  number,  is  of 
four  elements :  the  second,  according  to  R.  Joseph 
of  the  four  principal  angels  ;  and  the  third,  of  the 
four  temperaments  or  humours,  which  compose 
this  little  world,  which  is  man's  body. 

1.   From  these  complexions,  we  shall  for  our 


589 

physiognomical  learning,  observe,  that  the  chole- 
rick  humour  dryes  a  man,  hinders  not  his  growth, 
but  causes  it  to  be  without  bodily  strength,  and  the 
person  to  be  hasty  in  all  his  actions. 

2.  The  sanguine  or  aerial  humour,  causes  the 
body  to  grow  with  a  beauty  in  the  face  and  fat- 
ness :  the  person  changeth  not  in  his  misfortunes. 

S.  The  humid  complexion,  which  is  according 
to  the  nature  of  water  or  flegme,  causes  the  bodie 
to  be  soft,  and  of  little  strength ;  the  persons  are 
fearfull,  and  sleep  not  too  fast,  but  are  lightly 
awaked,  and  through  fear. 

4.  The  melancholick  humour,  causes  the  body 
to  grow  slowly,  but  the  minde  advances,  and  these 
are  the  men  that  are  worthy  of  great  speculations 
(yet  without  fidelity)  for  such  men  do  not  much 
regard  truth,  when  they  would  pleasure  those  whom 
they  are  obliged  to,  but  only  look  on  what  they 
themselves  imagine. 

I  have  now  done  with  Physiognomie,  the  rules 
which  have  been  delivered,  being  enough  for  those 
who  would  comprehend  this  Art,  without  any 
further  discourse.  Let  then  the  desirous  to  learn, 
read  and  peruse  them. 


THE  LINES  AND  THEIR  SITUATION  IN  THE  HAND. 

1.  The  line  of  the  heart,  or  of  life,  encloses  the 
thumb,  and  separates  it  from  the  plain  of  Mars. 

2.  The  middle  natural  line  begins  at  the  rising 


500 

of  the  fore-finger,  near  that  of  life,  and  ends  at  the 
mount  of  the  Moon. 

3.  The  line  of  the  liver  begins  at  the  bottome  Oi 
that  of  life,  and  reaches  to  the  table-line,  making 
this  triangular  figure  a  . 

4.  The  table-line,  or  line  of  fortune  begins  under 
the  mount  of  Mercury,  and  ends  near  the  index, 
and  the  middle  finger. 

5.  Venus  girdle  begins  near  the  joynt  of  the 
little  finger,  and  ends  between  the  fore- finger,  and 
middle-finger. 

6.  The  percussion  is  between  ?  and  D.  Also 
called  the  ferient,  Aferiendo,  from  smiting, 

7.  The  wrist  contains  those  lines  that  separate 
the  hand  from  the  arm,  called  rascetta. 

As  for  the  judgements  and  significations  of  the 
said  lines,  we  shall  see  them  elsewhere:  let  us  now 
see  our  other  figures. 


€&e  true  an*  vtritct  JBt&tvipUon  of  rtf 

&an!r+ 

The  hands  are  the  principal  parts  of  the  body  : 
the  anatomists  divide  them  into  three  principal 
parts,  that  is  to  say,  the  wrist,  the  body  of  the 
hand,  and  the  fingers ;  the  best  description  of  them 
is  in  the  Theology  of  Hippocrates ;  but  by  Chiro- 
mancers these  three  parts  are  called  the  palm ;  a 
word  which  Apuleyus  usfeth  in  his  Golden  Asse, 
calling  that  part  Dea  Palmaris,  which  we  in  Chiro- 
mancy call  the  plain  of  Mars.  The  second  is 
called  the  hollow  of  the  hand,  which  is  from  the 


59 1 

extremitie  of  the  other  side  of  the  thumb  towards 
the  little  finger,  which  we  call  the  mount  of  the 
hand,  or  of  the  Moon.      The  third  are  the  five  fin- 
gers, which  are  to  be  noted  by  their  names,  which 
according   to   the    physitians    are    such,    Pollex, 
Index,  Medius,   Annularis,  Auricularis,   which  I 
have  represented  before  in  three  fingers,  and  not 
with  any  more,  because  1  would  be  guilty  of  no 
confusion,  as  Indagine,  Codes,  Corvus,  and  many 
others.     You  are  then  to  note,  that  the  thumb,  as 
being  the  first,  greatest,  and  strongest,  is  so  called, 
and  dedicated  to  Venus,  and  hath  such  a  mark  ? . 
The  next  is  called  Index,  the  indicative  or  demon- 
strative finger,  because  with  it  we  point  at  any 
thing :  the  old  philosophers  have  called  it  so,  and 
among  others   Socrates,    who   for  that  reason   is 
painted,  pointing  with  that  finger  at  a  woman,  that 
represented  nature  :  and  this  finger  is  attributed  to 
Jupiter,  and  signated  with  the  character  of   if. 
The  third  is  called  the  middle  finger,  because  in 
the  middle,  some  call  it  physitian,   because  that 
with  it  are  touched  the  privy  parts,  when  some- 
thing is  amiss.     The  Latines  call  it  verpus,  from 
the  word   verro,    which  signifies   to  rub.       And 
Orus  Apella  in  his  Hieroglyphick,  represents  an 
infamous  person  by  that  finger.     But  in  old  time 
this  finger  with  the  thumb  and  fore-finger  repre- 
sented the  Trinity,  or  the  hand  of  Justice  of  our 
Kings.    It  may  be  yet  seen  in  some  ancient  edifices, 
and  particularly  at  Plaisy  in  Galie,  whereof  the 
president    Fauchat,    in   the  seventh   book   of  his 
history  of  the  declination  of  the  House  of  Charle- 
maigne  treats  at  large.     This  finger  is  Saturn's,  the 
mark   i?.      As   for   the   ring-finger,   which   is   so 


590 

of  the  fore-finger,  near  that  of  lif   ^  A  on  it, 

mount  of  the  Moon.  ,  J    ""         a*™  ^ 

3.  The  line  of  the  liver  bf //  -»se  in  the 
that  of  life,  and  reaches  \f*H  •  small  that 
this  triangular  figure  a  .   /y  /              ^bt  to  wear  a 

4.  The  table-line,  wtjjf  f  /  *  besides  ob- 
the  mount  of  Mercw  /  //  '  -<trriage,  they  first 
and  the  middle  fin-  it '           the  thumb,  whence 

5.  Venus  gin*'/ *  every  one  till  they  come 
little  finger,  an  /  '  -  Whence  some  who  stood 
middle-finger           Xlational  of  Divine  Offices)  to 

6.  The  r  jse  ceremonies,  say  it  is  done  be- 
called  the    anger  answers  to  the  heart,  which  is  the 

7.  T*  y&ve  and  the  affections.  Others  say,  be- 
the  hr/;t  i&  dedicated  to  the  Sun,  and  that  most 

A  ^$re  of  gold,  a  mettal  which  is  also  dedicated 
Sg*  ^  so  that  by  this  sympathy  it  rejoyces  the 
<  (rt :  this  finger  hath  for  the  Sun  this  mark  0. 
fie  last  and  least  of  all  is  called  the  ear-finger, 
because  commonly  we  make  use  of  it  to  make  clean 
our  ears,  as  if  it  were  some  instrument.  We 
read  that  Dionisius  or  Denis  the  Sicilian  tyrant, 
would  never  make  use  of  any  other  instrument  to 
cleanse  his  ears,  fearing  they  should  give  him  some 
poysoned  instrument,  as  being  a  Prince  very  fear- 
full  and  distrustfully  whose  life  was  miserable  in 
his  tyranny,  because  of  the  fear  imprinted  on  his 
soul.  The  finger  is  attributed  to  Mercury,  the 
sign  g .  In  these  verses  you  have  a  short  and 
learned  description. 

Est  Pollex  veneris,  Bed  %  indice  gaudct 
1?  Medium,  Sol  mediumque  tenet ;    . 
5f  Minimum  ;  ferentem  Candida  Luna, 
Possidet,  in  Cavea  Mars  sua  castra  locat. 


^ 


593 

Hshed. 

'  umb,  Jove  in  the  index  joyes, 
x*  Mle,  Sol  the  youth  full  toyes : 

,  •£>  Luna  the  fcrientt, 

*       %.  Ms  to  pitch  his  tents. 

*%   % 

^  °^  ^  *iave  certain  risings  at  their 

^  ^  ^  a  are  called  mounts,  attributed 

%*  %  co  which  is  added  that  apparent 

«s  and  belongs  to  the  percussion  of  the 
.e  four  principal  fingers  have  twelve  joynts 
^aments,  to  which  are  attributed  the  twelve  signs 
i  the'  zodiac,  and  to  each  finger  one  of  the  seasons 
of  the  year;  as  to  the  index,  which  is  V,  we  give 
it  the  Spring,  and  to  each  joynt  one  of  the  signs  of 
that  season ;  to  the  highest  Aries,  to  the  middle 
Taurus,  to  that  of  the  root  Gemini,  which  are  thus 
marked,  or,  8,  n.  The  little  finger,  which  is  Mer- 
cury's, hath  the  Autumn,  and  conforms  to  that  of 
Jupiter,  because  they  represent  the  two  Seasons, 
which  are  equally  milde  and  temperate ;  whereof 
the  two  first  signs  are  equinoctial,  (that  is  to  say 
make  the  nights  and  days  of  a  length).  The  signs 
of  the  Season  of  Autumn,  which  are  attributed  to 
this  finger,  and  placed  as  the  others  are,  Libra, 
Scorpius,  and  Sagittary,  thus  marked,  a,  «i,  /. 
The  middle  finger,  which  belongs  to  Saturn,  re- 
presents Winter,  a  rigorous  Season ;  hath  Capri- 
corn, Aquarius,  and  Pisces,  marked  thus,  Vf,  cr,  x . 
The  ring-finger,  which  is  the  Sun's,  hath  for  signs 
©,  ft,  i*.  And  these  two  Seasons  have  in  their 
first  moneths  the  two  solstices,  that  is,  when  the 
Sun  neither  descends  nor  ascends,  but  stands  still 
in  the  extremities  of  the  zodiac,  in  the  zenith,  as 

.     4  F 


592 

called,  because  commonly  a  ring  is  worn  on  it, 
especially  on  the  left  hand;  the  physitians  and 
arfatomists  give  the  reason  of  it,  because  in  the 
finger  there  is  a  sinew  very  tender  and  small  that 
reaches  to  the  heart ;  wherefore  it  ought  to  wear  a 
ring  as  a  crown  for  its  dignity.  But  besides  ob- 
serve, that  in  the  ceremonies  of  marriage,  they  first 
put  the  matrimonial  ring  on  the  thumb,  whence 
they  take  it,  and  put  it  on  every  one  till  they  come 
to  this,  where  it  is  left.  Whence  some  who  stood 
(as  Durand  in  his  Rational  of  Divine  Offices)  to 
discourse  on  these  ceremonies,  say  it  is  done  be- 
cause that  finger  answers  to  the  heart,  which  is  the 
seat  of  love  and  the  affections.  Others  say,  be- 
cause it  is  dedicated  to  the  Sun,  and  that  most 
rings  are  of  gold,  a  mettal  which  is  also  dedicated 
to  it:  so  that  by  this  sympathy  it  rejoyces  the 
heart :  this  finger  hath  for  the  Sun  this  mark  0. 
The  last  and  least  of  all  is  called  the  ear-finger, 
because  commonly  we  make  use  of  it  to  make  clean 
our  ears,  as  if  it  were  some  instrument.  We 
read  that  Dionisius  or  Denis  the  Sicilian  tyrant, 
would  never  make  use  of  any  other  instrument  to 
cleanse  his  ears,  fearing  they  should  give  him  some 
poysoned  instrument,  as  being  a  Prince  very  fear- 
full  and  distrustfull,  whose  life  was  miserable  in 
his  tyranny,  because  of  the  fear  imprinted  on  his 
soul.  The  finger  is  attributed  to  Mercury,  the 
sign  g .  In  these  verses  you  have  a  short  and 
learned  description. 

Est  Pollex  veneris,  sed  %  iudice  gaudet 
1?  Medium,  Sol  mediumque  tenet ;    • 
5f  Minimum  ;  ferentem  Candida  Luna, 
Possidet,  in  Cavea  Mars  sua  castra  locat. 


593 


Thus  Englished. 


Venus  the  thumb,  Jove  in  the  index  joyes, 
Saturn  the  middle,  Sol  the  youthfull  toyes : 
Stilborn  the  least,  Luna  the  fcrientt, 
In  cavea  Mars  delights  to  pitch  his  tents. 

N<w  all  these  fingers  have  certain  risings  at  their 
roots  or  bases,  which  are  called  mounts,  attributed 
to  the  Planets,  to  which  is  added  that  apparent 
flesh,  which  is  and  belongs  to  the  percussion  of  the 
hand ;  the  four  principal  fingers  have  twelve  joynts 
or  ligaments,  to  which  are  attributed  the  twelve  signs 
of  the' zodiac,  and  to  each  finger  one  of  the  seasons 
of  the  year :  as  to  the  index,  which  is  if,  we  give 
it  the  Spring,  and  to  each  joynt  one  of  the  signs  of 
that  season;  to  the  highest  Aries,  to  the  middle 
Taurus,  to  that  of  the  root  Gemini,  which  are  thus 
marked,  v,  8,  n.  The  little  finger,  which  is  Mer- 
cury's, hath  the  Autumn,  and  conforms  to  that  of 
Jupiter,  because  they  represent  the  two  Seasons, 
which  are  equally  milde  and  temperate;  whereof 
the  two  first  signs  are  equinoctial,  (that  is  to  say 
make  the  nights  and  days  of  a  length).  The  signs 
of  the  Season  of  Autumn,  which  are  attributed  to 
this  finger,  and  placed  as  the  others  are.  Libra, 
Scorpiii8,  and  Sagittary,  thus  marked,  ^,  m,  /. 
The  middle  finger,  which  belongs  to  Saturn,  re- 
presents Winter,  a  rigorous  Season ;  hath  Capri- 
corn, Aquarius,  and  Pisces,  marked  thus,  YP ,  ^r,  x. 
The  ring-finger,  which  is  the  Sun's,  hath  for  signs 
o,  A,  nji.  And  these  two  Seasons  have  in  their 
first  moneths  the  two  solstices,  that  is,  when  the 
Sun  neither  descends  nor  ascends,  but  stands  still 
in  the  extremities  of  the  zodiac,  in  the  zenith,  as 

.     4  F 


502 

called,  because  commonly  a  ring  '  declination, 
especially  on  the  left  hand ;  tb  .  in  the  hand, 
anatomists  give  the  reason  o'  ihe  end  of  the 
finger  there  is  a  sinew  very  .'  the  wrist,  where 

reaches  to  the  heart ;  wh'         represents  an  ovall 
ring  as  a  crown  for  its 

serve,  that  in  the  cer        ,  urding  to  the  third  fol- 

put  the  matrimop-     ^ .  •,-  the  zodiac  from  the  fore- 

they  take  it,  an**       ....  and  mount  of    ? ,  which 

to  this,  wherr  ...  ihe  oval  of  the  zodiac ;  and 

(as  Duranc*  _ .  ■*  our  signs  placed ;   Aries  on 

discourse  "      i«.  *  risi  ?  Taurus  on  the  mount  of 

cause         ~  ~  ^  iiie  branches  of  the  line  of  life, 

seat  -  r  life).     On  the  first  joynt  of  the 

CP  ,    .c  the  second  si>  on  the  thirds, 

""  \    . .  ub  apart,  as  being  an  imperfect  fin- 

"     ""     <,  .;  hath  but  two  joynts,  which  is  the 

.  %  •  Kvording  to  the  Arithmeticians,  called 

\  not  so  many  perfections  as  the  ter- 

which  is  the  second  number.     This 

-  .  wo  call  arctick.      As  for  the  other  half 

ia  . -.Jional,  which  we  call  antarctick,  we  be- 

.  i  i:  uio  top  of  the  ring-finger,  and  place  the 

t \^  N-  „:.  ^  iiioh  is  ^,  on  the  first  joynt  of  the  finger; 

a  .  v  sxwnd  ia,  on  the  third  t .    At  the  extremity 

i  .  v  table  line,  Capricorn ;  in  the  middle  of  the 

,  >\,  ;t  of  the  Moon  zz  ;   and  near  the  wrist  on  the 

„v  vr  >idt\  Pisces  ;  so  that  the  seven  Planets  will 

;v  e:u  Kv<t  d  within  the  zodiack. 

li  is  to  be  noted  that  every  mount,  (as  I  shall 
n^o«  more  at  large  in  the  rules  of  the  Science,) 
>\:nitirs  and  denotes  something  worthy  of  special 
tvtwdtTution;  as  that  of  Venus  love,  that  of  % 
honours,  that  of  j?  misfortunes,  that  of  ©  riches, 


595 

sciences,  that  of  &    military  atchieve- 
•hat  of  the  Moon  afflictions  and  dis- 
r  shall  pass  no  further  in  the  notion 
of  these  mounts,  reserving  it  to 
But  ere  1  conclude,  I  will  say  a 
.it's  and  observations  of  the  hand,  as 
ill  be  necessary  in  this  place, 
enclosure  of  the  hand  there  are  six  lines 
uts,  (as  hath  been  shewed  already,)  whereon 
*epend  the  three  principal  parts  of  man,  that  is  to 
say,  the  head,  the  heart,  and  the  kidneys,  on  which 
depend  the  three  worlds ;  that  is  to  say,  the  Intel- 
lectual, Celestial,  and  Elementary;   they  are  thus 
placed. 


The  Intellectual 
The  Celestial 
The  Elementary 


To  the  Head 
To  the  Heart 
To  the  Kidneyf 


To  God 

To  Heaven 

To  the  Element! 


The  Table  Line 
The  Middle  Nat 


SO  THE  LINES  OF  THE  HAND. 
To  the  nead  To  God 


U^oMhe^ILh       |  To  the  Heart  |  To  Heaven 

The*  Wru"i011  |  To  the  Kidney»  |  T°  «*«  Elements 

To  understand  these  lines,  you  must  know  first, 
that  the  table  line  takes  its  force  from  the  whole 
head,  and  that  it  begins  at  the  percussion  of  the  ' 
hand,  (where  is  the  mount  of  Mercury,  situate 
under  the  little  finger,)  and  reaches  with  two  or 
three  branches,  and  commonly  without,  under  the 
fore-finger  where  it  ends  ;  and  sometimes  it  is 
joyned  with  the  middle  natural  line,  both  of  them 
answering  to  the  head,  and  with  that  of  life  make 
an  angle,  which  ends  between  the  mounts  of  Venus 
and  Jupiter. 


596 

The  second  line  of  the  head,  called  the  middle 
natural  line,  is  that  which  begins  at  the  root  of  the 
line  of  life,  and  passes  through  the  middle  of  the 
palm,  between  the  mount  of  Mars  and  the  Moon, 
and  advances  under  that  of  Venus,  and  commonly 
to  the  table,  as  hath  been  said  before. 

The  third,  which  is  the  line  of  life,  called  also 
the  line  of  the  heart,  begins  at  the  mount  of  the 
fore-finger,  and  ends  near  the  wrist,  separating  the 
mount  of  Venus  from  the  triangle  or  palm. 

The  fourth,  called  that  of  the  liver  or  stomach, 
begins  under  the  mount  of  the  Moon,  and  makes 
the  triangle  of  Mars,  thwarting  the  middle  natural, 
or  straite  line,  joyning  with  that  of  life,  above  the 
mount  of  Venus. 

The  fifth  is  the  wrist,  which  are  those  spaces 
which  appear  in  the  joynt  of  the  hand,  where  there 
are  two  lines  at  least,  and  four  at  most,  and  divers 
cuts  advancing  towrards  the  mount  of  Venus. 

As  for  the  sixth,  it  is  the  sister  of  the  line  of  life, 
which  ever  follows  it,  whereto  we  adde  the  percus- 
sion, which  is  the  outer  part,  which  moves  when 
we  strike  any  thing.  These  are  the  most  remark- 
able parts  of  this  science,  which  are  to  be  much 
observed  in  matter  of  divination,  as  being  the 
principles  of  Chiromancy. 


©f  tfte  prediction*  of  tfje  fBanto  in  general,  Ann 
partirularlp  of  t&e  fQantetoritft. 

You  have  already  known  the  seven  lines  of  the 
hands,  answering  theseven  mounts,  or  seven  planets; 
now  you  are.  to  learn  the  judgements  which  you  are 


51)7 

to  draw  from  them,  that  the  prolixity  may  not 
dispatience  any  man,  and  that  every  one  may  be 
easily  instructed.  I  give  you  first  of  all  this  hand 
before  the  chapter,  wherein  is  comprized  a  great  and 
true  part  of  the  Chiromantick  judgements  that  I 
have  found  infallible ;  that  hand  alone  can  instruct 
any  man  whatsoever  to  make  judgements,  and  to 
tell  particularities  and  rarities,  to  make  himself  to 
be  admired  in  the  eyes  of  those  that  affect  this 
science,  which  he  will  thereby  render  much  desir- 
able. After  the  meditation,  and  the  lesson  of  the 
hand,  I  will  give  you  rules  and  tables  upon  every 
line  or  part  of  the  hand,  and  demonstrate  the  whole 
science  in  divers  figures/  and  visibly  unfold  the 
substance  of  the  truth  m  near  seven  hundred  apho- 
rismes,  for  your  better  instruction,  to  make  you 
able  to  judge  of  things  past,  present,  and  to  come, 
with  all  assurance :  which  rules  I  have  found  true ; 
yet  I  could  not  possibly  comprehend  them  in  the 
hand,  because  of  their  number  and  diversity  of 
accidents,  both  good  and  bad,  which  they  denote 
and  signifie ;  therefore  I  will  take  them  by  parti- 
culars, in  such  conspicuous  maner,  that  never  was 
presented  to  any  English  eye  before  this. 

1.  When  there  are  four  lines  in  the  hand-wrist  all  alike,  and  well  colon  red, 
they  signifie  to  him  that  hath  them,  that  he  shall  live  eighty  or  an  hundred 
years  ;  but  if  there  be  two  little  boughs  above,  making  a  sharp  angle,  It  de- 
notes that  the  party  shall  have  the  succession  of  an  heritage  fall  to  him  by 
the  death  of  some  one  ;  and  in  his  old  age  be  shall  rise  to  honours  according 
as  he  is  capable  ;  he  shall  be  of  a  good  disposition,  and  healthy. 

2.  It  must  be  noted  here  for  a  second  rule,  that  we  allow  to  every  lino 
which  is  upon  the  hand-wrist,  which  separates  the  hand  and  the  arm,  so  many 
thirty  years,  as  it  may  be  seen  in  this  figure.  We  may  also  comprehend 
therein  all  the  ages  of  the  givers  of  years,  as  the  fifty- eight  of  Satam ;  and 
by  this  means  also  may  be  known  the  humour  and  complexion  of  the  person. 
The  forty -seven  of  Jupiter,  the  eighty -two  of  the  Sun,  the  eighty-three  of 
Venus,  the  eighty  of  Mrrcury,  the  hundred  which  the  Moon  giTes,  and  the 
forty-nine  of  Mars,  all  which  may  be  known  according  to  these  lines. 


596 

The  second  line  of  the  head.  /  they  be  superficial 
natural  line,  is  that  which  be^  iae  be  thickf  the  wtomA 
line  of  life,  and  passes  i  /*  »s«  "<*<».  ia  the  second 

palm,    between  the   mor  *  but  sixty  years  at  most,  and 

and  advances  under  tr 

.      Ai       .11  i     xi  ,/i/ar  off ;  but  when  the  first  line  of 

to  the  table,  as  hath  .  ^.ght  with  a  rigM  Mgle  ^  eon. 

The  third,  which  ^ni  things. 

the  line  of  the  Y         ,;>•?  in  tbe  ^m^hh.?£££ 

sj  fouragious  enough,  and  shall  not  exceed 

fore-finger,  and  /* 

mount  of  VeD  '^ssiog  one  another  in  his  hand-wrist,  take  heed 

The  lourt1      ,  v  *y  ^ross  and  thick,  and  the  second  subtile,  and  the 

begins  Und  •*■■  ^portends  in  the  first  age  great  riches,  in  the  second 

.  °  ,,  /A^/i/brtune,  for  then  Saturn  will  reign  in  Alfridary  ;  in 

tlie  trianr      y'^^^over  himself  again  in  riches  and  good  fortune  ;  and 


inoun' 


or   strai       ' '*'!,, v'^  ioisfon\irie  an<*  Povertv5   **  lne  fourth  line  be  small, 

i 

™,L'  O^f real  ingenuity,  and  guilty  of  much  curiosity;  that  he  en- 

WP  *'f'  .id     .     »•    __     _     j  •         e       l    •     w         j  _         •  _    i       _»  .u- 


*'  '  '-.d  *?urf  o(b\\  things,  is  prenoted. 

M'pjP^£ the  hand-wrist  lie  scattering ,  __  

J*1' ~ fi^'rf*  sooner,  but  crookedly  passing  divers  wayes,  they  sig- 


hand-wrist  lie  scattering  and  spread  abroad,  so  that 


P t  <**  citations,  and  is  of  a  heightened  courage,  ayming  only  at  the 

a?  " '','•..« t&fp.  easle  to  violate  the  laws  of  his  Sovereign. 

'  ^'h£***ine  crosses  tne  wrist»  &nd  crookedly  spreads  it  self  towards 

/,'  f j life,  it  signifies  a  sickness  ;    if  it  be  pale,  it  signifies  death  near; 

,vli$t'jtCkt  it  denotes  the  approach  of  a  disease,  wherein  the  party  shall 

j/'';*  Jong,  by  reason  of  the  corruption  of  blood. 

^'V'ien  there  is  a  crooked  line  traverses  (after  the  manner  of  a  bow; 

1  lines  °t  ,ne  wrisl*  il  denotes  the  man  shall  be  of  a  servile  relation,  or  that 

''wi*"  DC  a  s'ave»   ^  there  be  two,  it  represents,  that  he  that  hath  such  a 

^  shall  be  by  justice  condemned  to  the  gallows,  or  shall  end  his  life 

]$.  If  the  lines  of  the  hand-wrist  are  doubled  towards  tbe  mount  of  Luna, 
„id  if  one  line  ascend  towards  the  line  of  the  stomach,  and  be  uneven,  it  por- 
tfinls  great  tribulations  and  adversities,  nay  secret  assassinations,  cheats, 
hostilities,  and  all  pernitious  actions. 

13.  If  those  lines  are  red  and  pure,  they  denote  the  party  martial,  and  that 
he  shall  raise  him  a  fortune  by  the  wars,  that  he  shall  be  fortunate  in  all  com- 
bats as  much  as  he  can  desire,  and  that  he  shall  not  want  the  honours  of  Mars. 
1 1.  If  you  .find  the  lines  of  the  wrist  in  the  manner  of  a  chain,  especially 
the  first,  it  signifies  a  laborious  life,  yet  not  unsuccessfull ;  and  he  shall  by 
his  labour,  get  together  much  wealth  by  his  commerce  both  by  sea  and  land, 
and  especially  by  sea,  if  these  lines  be  red  and  whitish. 

lo.  When  it  happens  that  many  lines  spread  themselves  abundantly,  and 
end  towards  the  mount  of  Luna,  it  demonstrates  long  expeditions,  voyages 
by  sea  and  land,  pe/petual  peregrinations,  and  a  vagabond  life. 


599 


the  lines  of  the  hand-wrist  if  there  be  one  that  thwarts  them, 

of  Mars,  and  advances  even  to  the  mount  of  the  Sun  ;   it 

i  honours  and  riches,  which  wili  come  suddenly,  as  also 

lat  Prince  and  dignities. 
»ny  line  of  the  wrist  fall  down  to  the  palm,  and  the  hol- 
trough  the  line  of  life,  and  if  it  be  red,  it  denotes  a  debility 
,,  and  weakness  of  body. 

*  iiere  is  a  triangle  near  the  mount  of  the  Moon,  beginning  at  the 
*              wrist,  if  it  bo  on  the  hand  of  a  woman,  it  denotes  she  is  corrupt 

*  i  her  tender  ago,  and  shall  be  given  to  all  sorts  of  unclean  actions, 
.owre  of  her  age,  and  shall  be  infamous. 

.  If  there  be  crosses  upon  the  hand-wrist  of  a  woman,  it  is  a  sign  she  is 

•unefae'd,  chaste ;   and  if  there  be  one  in  the  middle,  looking  towards  the 

tidd  of  Mars,  it  denotes  that  certainly  that  woman  shall  be  a  whitlow  at 

twenty-nine  years,  and  in  her  widdowhood  shall  take  some  religious  habit, 

and  shall  live  the  rest  of  her  time  in  great  devotion. 

80.  When  the  lines  of  the  hand  come  to  the  flat  of  the  hand,  it  signifies  di- 
versity of  opinions,  and  a  great  inconstancy  in  resolution. 

A   TABLE    OR  ABRIDGEMENT    OF    THESE    RILES    FOR 
THE    EASIER    COMPREHENSION    OF    THEM. 


THE  HAND  WRIST  18  REFERRED  TO   S3  . 


The  long  wrist  without  intersections 

signifies, 
The  short  wristed,  cut,  and  dissected, 

signifies, 
If  the  lines  of  the  wrist  look  towards 

those  of  Saturn,  they  denote 
If  that  line  branches  itself  towards  the 

mount  of  Jupiter,  it  denotes 
If  the  contrary, 
'When  it  casts  its  branches  between 

the  fore-finger  and  that  of  Saturn, 
If  there  be  crosses  or  stars  in  these 

lines,  tbey  denote 
When  there  are  only  stars,  it  is 
When  the  lines  which  look  towards 

the  mount  of  Venus  make  a  triangle, 

it  denotes 
If  those  lines  tend  towards  the  Ile- 

patick  line,  it  shews 


Strength  of  members  and  constancy. 
Weakness   of  be  tly  l  n  tl  v.  in  dr. 
Vanity,  vain- glory,  and  lying. 

Honours,  dignities,  and  riches. 

Poverty. 

The  man  shall  be  wounded  in  his  head  ; 
the  woman  shall  die  in  child-bed. 

Tranquillity  of  life  in  old  age. 

To  nomen,  miifortune  and  infamy. 

Incest,  and  other  sins  of  dishonesty. 
Integrity  afl(fe,  and  that  long. 


ft  tattle  of  m  Nail** 

THE  NAILS  BROAD. 

1 .  He  or  she  that  hath  the  nail  thus,  is  of  a  gentle  nature,  and  good  enough, 
but  yet  guilty  of  some  pusillanimity,  and  a  fear  to  speak  before  great  persons, 
having  not  his  speech  at  command,  and  being  guilty  of  a  certain  bashfulness. 

9.  If  about  these  nails  there  happen  to  be  an  excoriation  of  the  flesh, 
which  is  commonly  called  points;  in  these  large  nails  it  signifies  the  party 


coo 

given  to  luxury,  yet  fearfull,  and  commonly  guilty  of  some  exeesseathii 
ordinary. 

3.  When  there  is  at  the  extremity,  a  certain  white  mark,  it  signifies  mine 
as  to  means,  that  shall  happen  for  want  of  providence,  through  negligence; 
the  party  hath  more  honesty  then  subtiiity,  and  fears  more  a  frost  is  the 
moneth  of  May,  then  the  loss  of  a  battel. 

THE  NAILS  WHITE. 

-1.  He  that  bath  nails  white  and  long,  is  sickly  and  subject  to  much  in* 
firmity,  and  especially  to  fearers;  he  is  neat,  bat  not  very  strong,  because 
of  his  indispositions. 

9.  If  upon  this  white,  there  appear  at  the  extremities  somewhat  that  is  pale, 
that  denotes  a  short  life,  that  shall  happen  by  sudden  death,  it  may  be  the 
eqnincy ;  for  such  persons  are  fat  and  of  a  jovial  humour,  yet  participating 
with  melancholy,  or  Saturn,  and  are  not  merry  but  by  chance. 

8.  When  at  the  beginning  of  this  nail,  or  at  the  root,  there  appears  a  cer- 
tain mixt  redness  of  divers  colours,  like  the  rainbow,  it  denote*  the  man 
cholerick  and  ready  to  strike,  who  delights  much  in  combats,  battels,  con- 
flicts, and  duels,  contemning  every  one  without  any  respect. 

4.  When  the  extremity  is  black,  it  speaks  the  man  given  to  agriculture, 
and  that  his  desires  are  not  extraordinary,  but  content  themselves  with  s 
mediocrity. 

NARROW  NAILS. 

1.  Whosoever  hath  such  a  nail,  it  may  be  presumed  be  is  a  person  co- 
vetous of  the  sciences  of  venery  and  falconery  ;  that  he  smells  of  the  bird  of 
prey,  viz.  is  prone  to  do  his  neighbour  a  dammage,  and  cannot  live  without 
hateing  his  neighbours  and  kindred. 

2.  When  the  nails  are  long  and  narrow,  the  person  hath  somewhat  of  the 
nature  of  the  eagle,  will  command  lesser  birds,  and  kill  them  ;  flie  high  is 
contempt  of  those  who  are  more  then  himself,  having  the  heart  always  raised 
to  ambition  and  sovereignty. 

LONG  NAILS. 

When  the  nails  are  so,  it  notes  the  person  well-natured,  bat  dietrastfuil, 
that  will  not  confide  in  any  man,  as  being  from  his  youth  conversant  with 
deceits,  yet  not  practising  them,  and  that  because  the  over  goodness  of  oats  re 
which  is  in  him  doth  rather  love  reconciliation  then  differences* 

OBLIQUE  NAILS.      > 

1.  Signifie  deceit,  and  that  the  person  is  given  to  over-reach  his  neigh- 
bour, to  make  deceitfull  bargains,  that  there  may  be  matter  of  circumvention 
and  deceit ;  he  hath  no  courage,  nor  any  greater  desire  then  to  see  a  full 
parliament,  and  when  he  sees  it,  thinks  himself  one  of  the  greatest  law-givers 
of  the  world. 

9.  When  upon  these  crooked  nayls  there  are  certain  white  little  marks  at 
the  extremities,  it  signifies  a  slothfull  person,  of  little  judgement,  yet  desires 
most°to  be  heard,  though  he  hath  offended  no  body ;  there  is  an  inseparable 
eowardise  in  his  mlnde,  and  that  through  the  avarice  which  governs  it 


001 

LITTLE  NAILS. 

1.  Little  and  round  nails  denote  a  person  obstinately  angry,  of  a  distasteful 
conversation,  that  is  more  enclining  to  hatred  then  otherwise,  believing  all 
things  to  be  subject  to  him. 

2.  If  the  little  nails  be  crooked  at  the  extremities,  it  denotes  the  person 
fierce  and  proud,  and  entertains  no  desire  which  doth  not  speak  pride  and 
high  dignities. 

ROUND  NAILS. 

Signifie  a  cholerick  person,  yet  of  good  nature,  and  soon  reconciled  ;  he 
is  desirous  of,  and  loves  the  secret  sciences,  yet  with  an  honest  minde,  with- 
out any  design  to  hurt  any  body,  doing  what  he  doth  for  his  own  satisfaction. 

FLESHY  NAILS. 

Signifie  a  calm  person,  given  to  idleness ,  and  will  rather  sleep,  cat,  and 
drink,  then  take  a  town  by  some  warlike  stratagem,  or  have  any  evil  design 
against  his  neighbour. 

PALE  AND  BLACKE  NAILS. 

Denote  a  person  Saturnine,  subject  to  many  diseases,  and  withall  guilty 
of  many  cheats  and  tricks  to  deccire  his  neighbour,  for  these  accidents  are 
derived  from  Jupiter  and  Mercury. 

RKD  AND  MARKED  NAILS. 

8  i  guide  a  cholerick  and  martial  nature,  given  to  cruelty  ;  and  as  many 
little  marks  as  there  are,  they  speak  so  many  evil  desires,  which  tend  rather 
to  the  hart  then  the  good  of  his  neighbour ;  these  nails  have  the  nature  and 
complexion  of  Mars,  and  of  Venus  for  their  variety. 

And  this  shall  suffice  for  the  Nails,  let  us  now  consider  the  Hand  in  general!. 

4 

Dai  ttcuUr  ttulr*  for  tfte  ftattto* 

As  for  the  general  predictions  of  the  hands,  what 
my  judgement  is  of  them,  I  shall  deliver  with  as 
much  brevity  and  truth  as  I  can  possibly;  the  hands 
being  as  it  were,  the  looking-glasses  wherein  wre  see 
the  soul  and  the  affections. 

1.  If  thou  findest  any  line*  at  the  top  of  the  fingers,  beware  of  drowning  or 
falling  into  the  water ;  and  observe  in  what  finger  it  is,  that  thon  maist  know 
what  moneth  this  misfortune  will  ban  pen  to  thee,  and  prevent  it. 

2.  If  (hou  find  two  li-cs  under  the  joynt  of  the  thumb,  it  denotes  great 
inheritance  and  possessions  ;  but  if  there  bo  but  one,  it  denotes  no  great 
wealth.  If  these  lines  be  great  and  apparent,  the  person  hath  some  riches, 
about  which  he  is  in  debates  and  law-suits. 

8.  If  between  the  joynts  of  the  thumb  there  be  two  lines  streached  out  and 
well  UQited,  the  person  will  be  a  gamester  ;  but  by  means  of  his  gamtog  he 
shall  be  in  danger  of  his  life:  but  if  they  be  disjoyned,  or  winding  and 
crooked,  he  is  like  to  fall  into  thieves'  hands,  and  be  robbed. 

4.  If  there  be  a  hand  that  hath  two  lines  jovned  together,  within,  under  the 

4o  ' 


602 

last  joynt  of  the  thumb,  it  denotes  danger  by  water  ;  but  if  they  are  pale,  i. 
signifies  that  it  hath  happened  in  childhood,  or  that  it  will  happen  late  ;  bu. 
if  these  lines  are  without,  they  threaten  some  loss  by  fire. 

6.  A  woman  that  hath  lines  at  the  root  of  the  thumb,  upon  the  mount  of 
Venus,  so  many  lines  as  there  are,  so  many  children  shall  she  have :  if  they 
verge  towards  the  outside  of  the  hand,  so  many  men  shall  have  to  do  with 
her,  or  marry  her. 

6.  If  thou  find  the  first  joynt  of  the  thumb  having  a  line  that  joyns  to  it 
within  from  the  part  of  the  fore-finger,  he  that  hath  it  shall  be  hanged  ;  and 
so  much  the  more  certain,  by  how  much  the  more  the  said  line  represents  it, 
and  descends  from  the  table  line  :  but  if  the  said  line  be  united  without,  and 
not  within,  it  is  a  sign  the  person  shall  lose  his  head  ;  if  it  be  environed  all 
about,  the  man  shall  be  hanged. 

7.  When  the  table-line  is  crooked,  and  falls  between  the  middle  and  fore- 
finger, it  signifies  effusion  of  blood,  as  I  said  before. 

6.  When  thou  findest  upon  the  mount  of  the  thumb,  called  the  mount  of 
Venus,  certain  lines  thwarting  from  the  line  of  life  to  it,  the  person  is  luxuri- 
ous, and  for  that  reason  shall  be  hated  of  his  friends  and  superiors  ;  but  when 
thou  findest  two  lines  near  the  thumb  fair  and  apparent,  they  signifie  abund- 
ance of  temporal  wealth. 

9.  The  mount  of  Venus  swelling  up  and  high  in  the  hand  of  any  one,  signi- 
fies luxury  and  unchastity. 

10.  If  thou  find  a  hand  that  hath  a  cleft,  with  three  small  branches,  the 
person  that  so  hath  it,  shall  be  hated  of  great  men  ;  but  he  shall  be  a  great 
dissembler,  and  for  that  reason  shall  not  fear  them  much. 

11.  If  thou  find  the  line  of  life  separated,  or  divided  into  halfs,  the  person 
shall  be  wounded  with  a  sword  in  his  body. 

12.  If  a  woman  hath  the  palm  of  the  hand  short,  and  the  fingers  long,  it  is 
a  sign  she  shall  bring  forth  with  great  pain  and  difficulty. 

13.  When  thou  seest  a  hand  something  long,  and  the  fingers  somewhat 
thick,  it  is  a  sign  that  the  person  is  slow,  idle,  of  a  phlegmatick  complexion, 
yet  a  good  body,  and  very  modest. 

14-.  When  thou  findest  the  palm  of  the  hand  long,  and  the  fingers  of  a  good 
proportion,  and  not  soft  in  the  touching,  but  rather  hard,  the  person  is  in- 
genious, but  changeable,  given  to  theft,  and  vitious. 

Id.  He  that  hath  the  hand  hollow,  solid,  and  well  knit  in  the  joynts,  is 
likely  to  live  long  ;  but  if  over-thwarted,  it  denotes  shortness  of  life. 

1G.  He  that  hath  the  hand  according  to  the  quantity  of  his  body,  and  the 
fingers  too  short,  and  thick,  and  fat  at  the  ends,  is  denoted  to  be  a  thief,  a 
Iyer  in  wait,  and  furnished  with  all  evill,  a  paragon  of  vice,  thto  taore  he  hath 
the  fingers  filled  towards  the  ends. 

17.  When  the  palm  of  the  hand  is  longer  then  its  due  proportion  requires, 
and  the  fingers  more  thick,  by  how  much  they  are  the  more  short  it  signifies 
the  man  idle,  negligent,  a  fool,  and  proud,  and  that  so  much  the  more,  by  bow 
much  the  hand  is  more  brawny. 

18.  He  that  hath  the  hands  long  and  great,  is  liberal,  good-conditioned, 
crafty,  hath  a  great  spirit,  and  is  a  good  counsellour,  and  faithfull  to  his 
friends. 

19.  He  that  hath  the  hand  shorter  then  it  should  be,  according  to  the  pro- 


603 

portion  of  hit  other  member* t  it  is  a  sign  of  a  great  talker,  and  that  he  it  a 
glutton,  Insatiable,  injurious,  and  a  censurer  of  other  mean  actions. 

SO.  He  that  hath  the  Angers  taming  backwards,  is  an  unjust  person,  sub- 
tile, ingenious ;  and  the  more  neat  his  fingers  seem  to  be  (as  being  more  dry) 
the  more  mischievous  is  he,  and  advances  into  ail  evill,  as  if  he  were  at 
enmity  with  vertue ;  when  the  lines  of  the  joynts  are  all  alike,  take  heed  of 
such  servants. 

21.  He  that  hath  the  fingers  well  united  and  close,  so  that  the  air  can 
hardly  pass  between,  is  a  curious  person,  and  very  carefull  about  his  affairs. 

22.  When  thou  seest  one  that  hath  the  fingers  retorted  at  the  highest 
joynt,  and  turned  backward  orderly,  as  it  appears  here,  it  is  a  sign  of  an 
envious  person,  lndagines  and  Savanarola  say  that  he  is  envious :  but  it  is 
a  verttious  envy  or  emulation,  and  the  person  a  professed  enemy  of  vice. 

28.  If  thou  find  one  whose  fingers  are  dispersed,  and  thicker  at  the  joynts, 
snd  between  the  joynts  small  and  dry,  as  if  the  flesh  were  taken  away,  it  de- 
notes poverty  and  misery.  The  men  that  are  thus  qualified,  are  great 
talkers,  and  suffer  poverty  by  their  over-great  wisdom. 

2  k  Who  hath  the  fingers  in  such  a  manner  as  that  they  strike  one  another, 
as  if  they  were  beating  a  drum,  it  is  a  sign  that  he  if  changeable  in  his 
thoughts,  and  hath  ill  opinions  of  others. 

25.  He  that  when  he  is  in  discourse  with  others,  hatb  a  custom  of  striking 
with  his  hands,  and  cannot  abstain  from  it,  hath  some  imperfection  in  his 
understanding,  and  his  mind  being  overwhelmed  with  many  affairs,  it  is  as  it 
were  confused. 

26-  If  thou  find  one  whose  hands  shake  when  he  reacheth  them  forth  to  take 
somewhat,  it  denotes  that  he  is  no  cholerick  person.  There  are  others  that 
have  this  infirmity  through  the  too  much  use  of  wine ;  therefore  caution  is  to 
be  used. 

27.  When  you  see  a  man  who  when  he  eats,  opens  his  mouth,  and  stoops 
it  to  his  hand,  or  to  the  meat  which  he  holds,  it  is  a  sign  he  is  a  glutton,  and 
an  enemy  to  all  the  world  ;  and  he  that  in  the  same  action  pulls  down  his  bat 
over  his  eyes,  is  a  treacherous  person,  and  given  to  all  manner  of  vice,  and 
such  a  one  as  wise  men  avoid. 

98.  Observe  the  finger  of  Mercury,  or  the  little  finger,  if  the  end  thereof 
exeeed  the  last  joynt  of  the  annular  or  ring-finger,  such  a  man  rules  in  his 
house,  and  hath  his  wife  pleasing  and  obedient  to  him  ;  but  if  It  be  short, 
and  reach  not  the  joynt;  that  man  hath  a  shrew,  an  imperious  commanding 
woman,  that  wears  the  breeches ;  If  one  hand  differ  from  the  other,  (as  it 
may  do,)  having  in  one  the  little  finger  exceeding  the  joynt,  in  the  other 
shorter,  then  it  denotes  one  wife  a  shrew,  and  the  other  courteous ;  and  you 
may  know  how  to  distinguish  by  observing  the  hands ;  for  if  that  hand  that 
shews  the  lines  the  most  conspicuous,  have  the  little  finger  long,  passing  the 
joynt  of  the  annular,  then  the  first  wife  is  good  ;  if  that  hand  have  the 
shortest  finger,  then  the  first  wife  is  a  shrew,  and  so  of  the  other. 

The  last  of  these  Rules  is  worthy  observation;  for  on  it  depends  Chiro- 
nomy,  or  the  science  of  the  flight  of  the  hands,  very  necessary  to  those  who 
desire  to  be  gamesters. 


t  \ 


The  foregoing  extracts  upon  these  curious  sub- 


<)04 


jects,  will  be  further  elucidated  by  the  engraved 
phite  on  Palmistry  which  accompanies  these  articles, 
and  to  which  I  refer  the  reader. 


animal  Maqntti&m* 

As  facts  multiply,  science  is  unveiled,  and  theory  becomes  more 
easy.  We  have  lately  witnessed  curious  experiments  executed  at 
Toulon  by  Count  dc  13  ■;  and  a  public  document,  now  in  ex- 
stoncc,  proves  a  remarkable  fact.  It  describes  what  took  place 
on  the  15th  of  March,  1830,  in  the  department  of  Gers,  at  the  re- 
sidence of  the  Justice  of  Peace  of  the  canton  of  Condom,  in  the 
presence  of  persons,  every  one  of  whom  are  well  known  to  us. 

Jean ,  a  farmer,  aged  23,  was  afflicted  with   an  abcess 

from  congestion  upon  the  inner  and  upper  part  of  the  thigh.  The 
surgeons  who  attended  him,  declared  that  cure  puncture  would  be 
practicable,  but  the  operation  required  great  prudence,  and  much 
resignation,  because  the  crural  artery  crossed  the  tumor,  developed 

in  a  frightful  manner.     Count  de  B ,   whose  magnetic  skill  is 

remarkable,  proposed  plunging  the  patient  into  the  magnetic  state, 
thereby  to  produce  somnambulism,  and  establish  insensibility  upon 
the  part  of  the  body  where  the  operation  was  to  be  performed. 
In  that  condition,  he  said,  they  might  spare  the  farmer  the  pain 
and  suffering  inevitable  in  his  then  state.  The  proposition  was  ac- 
cepted. In  about  two  minutes  the  patient  was  placed  in  the  mag- 
netic state  ;  somnambulism  immediately  followed,  but  without  re- 
markable lucidity.  The  farmer  said,  in  answer  to  a  question  put 
by  his  magnetise  r,  that  he  looked  in  vain  for  his  illness.  He  could 
not  see  it,  nor  the  cause  of  it.  At  that  moment  Doctor  Lar 
performed,  with  the  greatest  skill,  the  surgical  operation  which 
had  been  considered  necessary.  He  applied  the  bistoury  several 
times,  and  produced  the  desired  effect.  The  dressing  was  then 
made  in  the  usual  manner.  During  the  whole  of  the  operation  the 
patient  remained  immovable  as  a  statue. — His  magnetic  sleep  was 
undisturbed.     Upon  the  proposition  of  all  the  medical  men,  Count 

de  B destroyed  the  magnetic  state  in  which  the  patient  h:td 

been  plunged,  and  awoke  him.      Doctor  R  then  approached 

him,  and  asked  whether  he  was  willing  to  submit  to  the  operation. 
— 4*  [fit  must  be  so,"  said  the  patient,  "  I  will  submit."     Doctor 

K then  announced  that   it  was  quite  useless  to  recommend  it, 

bee -nir.o.  it  was  done.  The  astonishment  of  the  patient  was  in- 
creased when  they  made  him   see   the  dressing.      He  had  felt  no- 

thing,  and  only  remembered  the  action  of  Count  B ,  when  the 

latter  applied  the  palm  of  his  hand  to  his  (the  patient's)  forehead 
to  make  him  sleep. 


The  old  Astrologers1  Horoscope  of  the  Planetary 
Ileigns. 


HOROSCOPE 

Reign  of  the    Weekly 
CHRONOCRATORS, 

artalDcin  aalroloflcr*. 

"  And  now  let  u»  apeak  of  (be  day  and  lha  hour, 

Wherein  Sibils,  and  Charms,  and  Start  bear  po 
Firal  Mkrcuby  rule*  the  Wtdntiday  clear. 
Than  J  uriTH,  Tkxnday.  dcigni  lo  hear  : 
Na*l  Vikdi,  oo  Friday,  iptaJn  lone'a  iofi  lur* 
And  Sat un.\,  uii  Saturday,  mirth  abjure)  ; 


006 


Sad  champion  of  woe  ! — Then  Sol  comes  next. 
And  Sunday,  when  clowns  like  lordlings  are  drest, 
In  holiday  clothes,  to  rule  makes  his  claim  ; 
While  the  MOON  governs  Monday  /—Thus  e?er  the 
Do  the  Planets  above  us,  frail  mortals  protect. 
And  mysterious  wonders  most  eas'ly  eOect, 
So  the  Seers  of  old  times,  the  Astrologers  sage, 
Proclaim  in  each  leaf  of  their  time-hononr'd  page. 
That  mortals  give  credence  to— moreo*er  they  say, 
The  whole  Unircrse  bom  to  tkeJinnamenCx  stray! 
A  power  which  the  greatest  are  feign  to  obey" 

Old  Legend. 


The  Astrologers  of  olden  time,  especially  of  the 
13th  and  14th  centuries,  also  Trismegistns^  Julias, 
Hcrmiscus,  Albumagar,  and  Eschuuius,  have  left 
on  record  a  vast  variety  of  such  like  curious  super- 
stitions. There  are  •'  a  full  grete  store  of  thest? 
(to  use  the  words  of  an  old  and  quaint  author,)  "in 
divers  bokes,  many  of  which  are  as  it  were  herde  to 
be  gotten  at."  The  following  Table  I  have  care- 
fully transcribed  from  this.  "Astrologer"  of  the 
elder  ages,  hoping  it  might  prove  acceptable  to  ipy 
readers.  The  original  Table  is  richly  emblazoned 
in  the  manuscript  from  which  this  is  derived ;  a 
proof  how  much  in  vogue  these  superstitions  were 
of  yore.  Appended  to  the  Table,  on  a  scrip  of 
parchment,  1  decyphered  the  following  singular  lines. 

9 

"  From  A  rabies  shores,  a  sage  pilgrim  came, 
With  his  scrip,  and  his  veste,  and  famous  his  name: 
He  spake  full  gifted  of  s terras  on  highe, 
x  We  rede  men's  fates  in  the  bryghte  blew  skye  ! 

And  soothe  said  he,  that  man  is  wylde, 
By  soph y st re  lede,  and  faine  begylde  : 
\\  ho  shoulde  ventflre  the  pow're  of  yon  mansyons  above, 
To  faltere,  or  cheete,  or  gaynsay,  or  disprove ! 
For  soothe,  with  the  orbyt  of  eche  bryghte  sanne, 
Ate  wnnderes  perfectede,  and  wonderea  begunnel 
Mydstc  the  cradle  of  youthe,  mydste  the  mornyoge  of  lyfe, 
Mydste  the  fay  re  da  woe  oY  manhoode,  the  aapectes  tie  ryfc; 


607 

Mydito  the  war  shoote— the  tourney— the  gay  chcvalryc. 
My  date  the  hattuHe— the  drthe  dooroe— the  glad  f ict'rye  ; 
Yon  nesaengeres  fair,  yon  Plane  tea  so  bryghte, 
From  their  beauteous  thromM  and  housen  of  lyghtc ; 
Rule  ail  tkyngct,  o'er  all  thyng ->«,  their  swaye  they  fulfill*, 
And  aie  gofera'd  alone,  soothe,  by  th'  Almyghty  will," 


U  S$M$  ®f  t%$  jttMit 


FROM    THE    OLD    ASTROLOGERS, 


FOR    NATIVITIES. 


Dio  T  in  Nativities. 

Then  she  is  a  mighty  qnccne 
of  great  renown e  and  reputation; 
fair,  lightsome,  pleasant,  great 
bodied,  and  well  made,  and  will 
he  quickly  angrie. 


3>  in  n  in  Nativities. 

When  she  is  in  n,  she  is 
poore  and  miserable,  having 
lost  some  of  her  members,  doing 
her  business  and  affairs  very  i  11_ 
and  unprofitable.  She  is  of  ill 
nature  and  condition,  ill  clad 
and  of  ill  conversation  in  life, 
and  against  eating  and  drinking. 


D  in  8  in  Nativities. 

She  is  then  queen  of  a  great 
and  mighty  real  me,  of  good 
humanitie,  keeping  her  realmc 
in  good  peace  and  tranquilitie  ; 
she  doth  good  justice,  and  is  of 
all  men  well  beloved ;  loveth 
rest  and  joy,  and  is  something 
given  unto  the  pleasure  of  the 
flesh. 


D  in  O  in  Nativities. 

In  © ,  she  is  a  queene  of  great 
power  and  a  great  rcalme,  tak- 
ing from  and  giving  unto  whom 
she  pleaseth,  and  is  of  an  abso- 
lute power  and  authoritic  ;  a 
lady  of  wisdom,  beau  tie,  and 
prudence,  and  is  well  beloved, 
authorised,  and  obeyed  in  her 
realme. 


G08 


3)  in  SI  in  Nativities. 

In  ft,  she  isaqaeene  crowned, 
but  yet  without  authorise  to  do 
or  command,  but  is  in  contempt 
and  despised  of  all  them  of  her 
realme,  each  one  living  at  plea- 
sure as  he  listeth. 


D  in  nji  in  Nativities. 

When  she  is  in  nji  she  is  very 
melancholie  and  pensive,  slum- 
bering, ill-apparelled  and  cloth- 
ed, loving  pick  thanks  and  do- 1 
ing  nothing  that  is  good.  j 


>  in  a  in  Nativities. 

She  is  then  a  queene  crowned, 
and  doth  none  other  thing  but 
eat  and  drink  too  much,  nothing 
at  all  minding  her  business ;  she 
is  carclesse  and  recklesse,  taking 
no  pleasure  but  in  mirth,  as  in 
dancing,  ribaldry,  songs,  ballets, 
rounds,  companie  of  women,  and 
of  other  things  of  pleasure. 


>  in  n\  in  Nativities. 


When  she  is  in  ni,  she  is 
a  woman  of  great  and  evil 
thoughts,  being  the  cause  of 
much  evils  which  come  to  her 
and  to  others,  and  all  by  her 
ignorance. 


I 


>  in  t  in  Nativities 

When  she  is  in  t » she  taketh 
pleasure  to  shoot  in  cross-bows, 
and  to  bear  the  pike  and  hal- 
berd, and  to  joust  in  tourney. 


>  in  V?  ui  Nativities. 

When  she  is  in  yf,  she  i«  a 
noble    and    mighty    lady,    fail.  J 
handsome,  well  made,  well  cloth- ' 
ed,  and  of  good  name  and  fjme. 


>  in  sz  in  Nativities. 

•  When  she  is  in  £?,  she  is  a 
lady  loving  bunting  and  great 
pursuit  of  them,  which  avoide 
afore  her,  she  never  stayeth  in 
one  place,  she  always  goeth  and 
cometh  without  rest,  and  taketh 
things  in  hand  which  serve  to 
no  use,  as  well  in  her  diet  as  in 
her  affairs. 


)  in  X  in  Nativities. 


When  she  is  in  X ,  she  is  a 
woman  out  of  order,  and  caret li 
nothing  for  faire  clothes,  but 
all  her  pleasure  is  to  hunt,  and 
to  play  at  cards,  dice,  and  such 
other  games  which  wasteth  her 
substance,  and  she  careth  not 
much  for  her  business. 


G09 


a  CaMe  of  ttje  jfortunate  Stag*  of  tftr  eisaeefc, 

To  Persons  who  have  the  Moon  in  any  of  the  Twelve  Signs. 
FROM  ALCABITIU8,  A  FAMOUS  ASTROLOGER. 


The  Moon  in  v  at  Birth. 

Their  fortunate  day  is 
Tuesday. 


The  Moon  in  n  at  Birth. 

Their  fortunate  day  is 
Wednesday. 


The  Moon  in  tf,  at  Birth. 


•  • 


Their  fortunate  day  is 
Sunday. 


The  Moon  in  ^fc  at  Birth. 

Their  foitunntc  day  is 
Saturday. 


The  Moon  in  t  at  Birth. 

Their  fortunate  day  is 
Thursday. 


The  Moon  in  ZZ  at  Birth. 

Their  fortunate  day  is 
Wednesday. 


The  Moon  in  8  at  Birth. 

Their  fortunate  day  is 
Friday. 


The  Moon  in  ©  at  Birth. 

Their  fortunate  day  is 
Monday. 


The  Moon  in  rrjj.  at  Birth. 

Their  fortunate  day  is 
Friday. 


The  Moon  in  ill  at  Birth. 

Their  fortunate  day  is 
Tuesday. 


The  Moon  in  Y?  at  Birth. 

Their  fortunate  day  is 
Monday. 


The  Moon  in  X  at  Birth. 

Their  fortunate  day  to 
Saturday. 


4H 


610 


a  aaftle  of  m  Wanttats  ^ottttne*, 

ACCORDING  TO  THE  ASTROLOGERS  OP  THE  MIDDLE  ACBS 


The  Fortune  of  persons 
born  on  Monday. 

Those  who  fortune  to 
be  bom  on  the  day  of 
the  J),  or  Monday,  will 
be  great  voyagers,  flit- 
ting  about,  rarely  set- 
tled—never rich,  never 
poor.  Skilful  in  medi- 
cine, chirurgery,  and 
household  arts.  Notlong 
lived,  happy  in  marriage 
and  woman's  love.  Their 
fortunate  number  is  9. 
Their  fortune  lays  to 
the  south.  They  are  li- 
able to  perils  by  the  sea, 
and  in  the  art  of  fluids. 

The  Fortune  of  person* 
born  on  Wednesday. 

Those  on  Wednesday, 
the  day  of  g  ,  shall  rise 
to  high  authority,  sitting 
in  judgement  over  their 
fellows.  Albeit  never 
rich.  Their  fate  lies 
every  where,  as  they 
abound  in  skill.  In  mar- 
riage they  are  ill-match- 
ed. In  their  middle  age 
cast  down,  and  rising 
again  to  power.  Sub- 
ject to  imprisonment. 
Commonly  they  are  tra- 
vellers. 4  is  their  num- 
ber. 


The  Fortune  of  persons 
bom  on  Tuesday. 

By  thia  thou  shalt  give 
them  the  government  of 
$  ,  viz.  getting  rich  by 
force  and  violence.  Short 
lived,  amorous,  angry, 
vicious  at  times.  Doing 
best  by  curiously  de- 
signing or  working  arts. 
Subject  to  hurts  by  steel, 
and  to  wounds  on  the 
head.  Their  number  is 
8,  and  their  fortune  is 
north. 


The  Fortune  of  persons 
bom  on  Thursday. 

On  the  day  of  If. ,  those 
who  are  born,  shall  rise 
to  be  rich,  usurers,  or 
keepers  of  wealth ;  set- 
ting small  store  by  rich- 
es, but  having  plenty. 
In  peril  by  great  cattle,  \ 
or  four-footed  beasts. 
Lucky  in  marriage. — 
Their  numbers  are  6  and 
7.  Eastward  and  south- 
ward lays  their  fortunes. 
They  are  long  lived, 
for  the  most  part,  and 
lucky. 


The  Fortune  of  penou ' 
bom  on  Friday.       ( 

The  day  of  $— eon-; 
stitutes  them  happy,  tat 
not   lucky   over  muck 
They  love  both  wine  and 
women,  are  prone  to  jol- 1 
lity,  but  in  danger  bj; 
poison.       Their    ntus-  ( 
ber  is  6.     Their  fortane 
west.      They    will   is-, 
herit  dead  men's  goods.  ' 

The  Fortune  of  perwu 
bom  on  Saturday. 

On  a  T?  *s  day— the? 
will  lead  a  life  of  sor- 
row and  labour— oefer 
rich,  always  in  jeapor-, 
dy.  Their  numbers  tre 
landS.  Commonly  they 
die  in  grief , or  in  a  strange ; 
fashion. 

The  Fortune  of  perm*\ 
born  on  Sunday. 

On  a  0  day— they  will 
rise  to  power  and  riches. , 
to  have  much  money,  to , 
be    knightly  or  do  We. 
and  of  renown.  Rat  evil 
!  fated  in  the  nuptial  rite*., 
[Southward     lies    their* 
!  lucky  star,  and  9  is  their 
fateful   number.     Loaf 
life  is  not  their  lot. 


oil 

The  foregoing  Tables  will  doubtless  prove  ac- 
ceptable to  the  reader,  on  the  score  of  exemplifying 
Ancietit  Traditions :  on  any  other  ground  their 
utility  is  dubious.  They  are  transcribed  verbatim 
from  the  ancient  authors,  with  the  mere  alteration  ot 
the  obsolete  orthography.  I  subjoin  the  following 
metrical  HtQtnb  Of  tf)t  HUttat  <&#t\l** 

"  The  Moon  id  Aries,  life  it  long, 
In  Taurus,  Gemini,  Cancer,  strong ! 
Bat  when  the  Moon  in  Leo  strives, 
Full  short  and  painful  are  men's  lives  ! 
In  Virgo,  thou'lt  behold  her  true  ! 
Happy  and  just,  and  amorous  too ! 
But  still  men's  years  are  short  and  few  ! 
Then  view  her  swift  through  Libra  speed  ; 
The  vital  flame  she'll  constant  feed, 
And  famous  make  in  act  and  deed  1 
Wail!  when  in  Scorpio  she  pursues, 
The  Sagtttarian  arrow  !    Thews, 
And  sinews  potent  grace  this  latter  sign  I 
Long  life  and  happy  then  is  thine  1 
In  Capricomua,  in  Aquaritu  short. 
Bat  PiKer  constant  wards  the  fatal  dart  I* 


012 


FATAL    HOROSCOPES. 


No.  IV. 


€l)c  ISatMt;)  of  a  "Suirifcf*" 


"  Life's  fitful  gleam. 
Death's  doleful  dream, 
Utart  rule,  I  ween." 


Old  Ai'Tiicts 


613 

©,  Hylegy  zod.  par.  to  I?  ,  %,  and  $ 

&  &  h 
6  h  U 
8   *    & 

It  is  rarely,  or  ever,  that  the  true  horoscope  of 
these  wretched  unfortunates  can  be  obtained;  but  the 
other  day,  the  mother  of  the  female  whose  Nativity 
is  given  above,  came  to  ask  some  advice  relative  to 
her  affairs,  which  were  in  a  precarious  situation, 
and  from  her  I  procured  the  exact  day  and  hour  of 
her  daughter's  birth,  therefore  the  student  may  rely 
upon  the  truth  of  the  diagram. 

It  will  be  readily  seen,  by  this  example,  how 
clearly  the  fate,  ttittt  Itt  lift  «tt&  fcfatf),  may 
be  read  in  the  Stars,  at  the  hour  of  our  first  enter- 
ing the  limits  of  this  sublunary  region :  where  care 
and  toil — danger  and  sorrow,  bear  such  powerful 
rule.  For  the  gj utl  is  here  the  Hyleg,  or  apheti- 
cal  star.  He  is  in  exact  opposition  to  Saturn,  from 
violent  signs,  and  Mars  in  opposition  to  Venus, 
from  watery  signs  ;  Jupiter  is  also  afflicted  by 
Saturn's  body  and  near  approximation.  So  that 
neither  of  the  benefic  Planets  could  save,  on  ac- 
count of  their  being  vitiated  and  afflicted  by  the 
harbingers  of  evil.  The  presages  of  an  untimely 
end,  and  of  a  u  tVlitl  ltt&Vbfn  (as  the  old  Astro- 
logers term  it,)  are  manifest. 

All  that  I  could  learn  of  her  death,  was  as  fol- 
lows : — On  the  fatal  evening  wherein  these  baleful 
planetary  orbs  prompted  the  fell  idea  of  self-de- 
struction, it  appears  she  observed  her  step-father, 
(a  wicked  and  dissolute  man,)  come  from  a  house 
"of  ill  fame,"  and  upon  his  observing  her  watch- 
ing him,  he  threatened  some  personal  violence,  and, 


614 

I  believe,  struck  her;  which  it  seems,  hurt  her 
feelings  in  so  particular  a  manner,  that  she  went 
out  late  in  the  evening,  an&  f  OmtlUttlfr  0tUtl&f 
by  drowning  herself. — A  sad  memento  of  the 
dreadful  effects  of  vice,  where  the  example  assumes 
a  marked  manner,  and  where  a  violence  in  the 
passions  gets  the  mastery  of  reason.  Yet  hundreds 
of  such  like  instances  are  annually  occurring  I 


The  following  curious,  and  very  ingenious  device, 

may  amuse  some  of  my  readers.      The  sentence 

"  Reform  alone  can  save  us  now"  may  be  read  484 

different  ways,  beginning  at  the  letter  R  in  the 
centre  :— 

tconsuevasnac&nsaveusnow 
on  suevasna.ceca.nsaveu  &  n  o 
n  s  uetrainacenecansaveiisn 
8  aevaaacenonecan  s  a  veos 
u  evasn&ceno I  o  n  e  c  an  s  a  v  e  u 
e  v  a  8  n  a  c  e  n  o  I  a  I  o  n  e  c  a  n  s  a  v  e 
v  a  a  n  a  c  e  n*o  I  a m  a  I  o  n  e  c  a  n  9  a  v 
a  8  n  a  c  e  n  o  I  a  m  r  m  a  I  o  n  e  c  a  n  s  a 
sn&cenolamrorma  I  on e c  an  s 
naceno/amroforma/onecan 
a  c  e  n  o I  am  t ofe  forma/oneca 
c  e  n  o  I  a  m  r  o  f  e  R  e  f  o  r  m  a  I  o  n  e  c 
aceno/amrofe f  o  r  ma  I  o  n  e  c  a. 
nticenoiamroformalonecan 
sn&cenolamrormalonecana 
asna.cenolamrmaloneca.nsa 
vasnacenolamalonecansav 
evasn&ceno  la  lonecansave 
uevasnaceno  I  onec&nsaveu 
a  u  e  v  a  8  n  a  c  e  n  o  n  e  c  a  n  *  a  tte  u  s    • 
hbu  e  t>  a  8  n  &  c  e  n  ecansaveasn 
08saeva«nac e cansaveusno 
wonB\xeva8nac  an  s  a  v  e  usn  o  w 


G15 


H#  stsimnfiii  of  ggtrtt** 


CELESTIAL     MAGIC. 
Part  2. 

Copied  verbatim  from  a  beautifully  illuminated  magical  Manuscript,  formerly 
in  the  poiseteion  of  the  celebrated  Mr.  Richard  Cotnay,  a.  j. 


Co  bani&t)  t\)t  <2?bit  Spirits, 

SAY    THIS    ORATION. 

The  vengeance  of  God  is  a  two-edged  sword,  cutting  rebellious  and 
wicked  spirits  of  darkness,  and  all  other  usurping  powers,  in  pieces ;  the 
baud  of  God  is  like  a  strong  oak,  which,  when  it  falleth,  breaketh  in  pieces 
many  shrubs  ;  the  light  of  his  eyes  expelleth  darkness,  and  the  sweetness  of 
his  mouth  keepetb  from  corruption.  Blessed  are  all  those  to  whom  he 
sheweth  mercy,  and  reserveth  from  temptation,  and  illusion  of  wicked  in- 
truders, defending  them  by  his  mighty  power,  under  the  covert  of  divine 
grace ;  not  suffering  his  humble  servants  to  be  overcome  or  overthrown'  by 
any  infernal  assaults.  Now  therefore,  because  you  have  come  hither,  and 
entered  without  license,  seeking  to  entrap  and  ensnare  us,  and  secretly  con- 
spired by  these  your  subtleties,  to  deceive  and  destroy  us  and  our  hope,s,  in 
the  true  meaning  of  these  our  sober,  innocent,  honourable,  and  celestial 
actions,  we  do,  in  the  great  mighty  name,  and  by  the  power  of  the  most  high 
God,  triumph  imperially  over  you  ;  and  by  the  virtue,  force,  and  efficacy 
whereof,  be  you  and  your  powers  vanished,  overthrown,  and  utterly  de- 
feated ;  and  behold,  by  virtue  of  that  celestial  power,  by  divine  grace  given 
onto  us,  and  wherewith  we  are  potently  dignified;  and  as  heirs  of  God's 
promise,  through  faith  containing  inherent  with  us,  we  do  he>eby  wholly  de- 
face and  overthrow  you,  and  ye  are  totally  vanquished:  therefore  we  say 
depart,  and  immediately  begone  from  hence  in  peace,  without  noise,  turbu- 
lence, injury,  harm,  violence,  or  other  damage  to  48,  or  this  place,  or  any 
other  place  or  person  whatsoever;  and  as  yon  are  of  darkness,  and  the  places 
of  darkness,  and  have  without  any  charge  or  permission  enviously  intruded, 
seeking  thereby  to  ensare,  deceive,  or  overwhelm  us,  the  divine  judgement 
and  vengeance  of  the  most  high  God,  for  your  wicked  and  malicious  con- 
spiracy and  intrusion,  be  your  deserved  reward;  and  as  it  was  delivered  to 
you,  so  take  it  with  you,  that  the  malice  which  you  have  shewn  ns  may  heap 
your  own  destruction  ;  be  ye  therefore  dismissed,  and  immediately  we  say 
depart  hence  unto  your  orders,  and  there  to  continue  in  the  bonds  of  con- 
finement during  the  divine  pleasure  of  the  Highest 


010 

If  they  are  yet  obstinate  and  impudent,  arul  will 
not  depart,  but  rather  will  withstand  the  commands 
of  the  Magician,  let  him  say  asfolloweth. 

2T0  >JaiU0iJ* 

Do  you  thus  impudently  withstand,  and  obstinately  refuse,  to  depart  from 
our  presence,  and  from  the  plac,  and  perniciously  attempt  yet  farther  a?ai:>t 
us  :  in  the  name  of  Jesus,  we  say,  depart  ye  nicked  seducers,  and  be  ye  im- 
mediately gone  away  from  hence;  and  so  be  it  unto  you,  according  to  \w 
word  of  (iod,  which  judgeth  righteously,  from  e\il  unto  worse,  from  vor?' 
unto  confusion,  from  confusion  unto  desperation,  from  desperation  unto  dam- 
nation, from  damnation  unto  ol.'rnal  death.  D.-part  therefore,  we  s^y,  unto 
the  last  cry,  and  remain  with  the  Prince  of  Darkness,  in  punishment  ju*''.y 
due,  as  a  fit  reward  unto  your  wL-ked,  malicious  d<'»orvings,  and  the  Cod  of 

mercy  graciously  deliver  us  from  you.— jjJrOotJi'i  (Trtrifiraiumaton  ^-atrat. 

And  if  no  celestial  angel,  or  otluT  dignified  spirit 
of  light,  app<  ar  in  place  to  vanuui:  !i  and  send  away, 
or  seal  up  any  wicked  or  infernal  spirit  or  spirits  of 
darkness,  w  hen  appearance  is  presented,  a  notori- 
ous intruder  in  the  time  and  place,  when  celestial 
or  elemenlall  actions,  with  dignified  powers  of 
light,  are  in  agtt  it  ion  and  operation. 

llult$  to  be  o'ostvbib. 

Then  h«  the  discreet  Magician,  with  prudent 
passion,  have  diligent  regard  to  himself,  and  con- 
sult the  foregoing  ml  s,  according  to  respective 
and  serious  observations;  who,  l>y  the  oilice  of 
himself,  will  imdoubtlv,  not  only  contract  t!ie  sight 
and  friendshij)  of  the  <vl«v»tial  an?;els  and  dignified, 
elemental,  and  other  benevolrnt  spiriis  of  lituht,  to 
his  rilief  and  comfort,  and  to  vanquish  and  over- 
come all  evil  ,-pirits  and  powers  of  darkness  ;  but 
also  he  shall  h;ne  power  to  command,  call  forth, 
and  constrain  :>  11  sublunary  spirits  anrl    powers,  of 


C17 

all  natures,  orders,  and  offices,  both  good  and  evil, 
light  and  darkness,  or  otherwise  relating  thereunto, 
and  bring  them  to  such  obedience,  as  according  to 
their  several  1  and  respective  natures  and  offices, 
they  may  be  so  commanded  and  constrained  to 
serve  and  obey. 

a  setoitfr  tntvottuttion. 

When  invocation,  and  replication  thereunto,  is 
amply  made,  according  to  time,  method,  and  order, 
and  the  celestial  angel  or  intelligence  thereby 
moved,  doth  appear,  or  any  other  angel  or  intelli- 
gence of  the  same  hierarchy,  then  mark  and  ob- 
serve well  the  manner,  shape  and  form,  corpo- 
rature,  gesture,  vestments,  and  foregoing  sign 
thereof,  and  if  in  all  symbolical  likelyhood  and  pro* 
bable  symptoms,  the  apparition  seemeth  to  be  no 
less  otherwise  conjected,  that  which  is  from  hence 
to  be  expected,  alth&ugh  that  very  intelligence  that 
was  moved  and  called  forth  by  name,  doth  not  ap- 
pear, by  reason  it  is  of  the  superior  order  of  the 
hierarchy,  who  are  not  always  sent,  are  usually  go 
forth,  neither  are  moved  to  visible  appearance,  but 
of  especial  grace  and  divine  pleasure,  more  imme- 
diately unto  choice  and  peculiar  vessels  of  honour 
accordingly  appointed  immediately  by  the  Holy 
Ghost,  to  fulfill  the  command  of  the  Highest,  but 
yet  some  or  other  or  more  of  the  celestial  powers 
of  the  same  order  as  aforesaid,  more  inferior  in 
degree,  may  be  moved  hereby  to  descend  and  ap- 
pear, at  the  earnest  request  of  the  Magician,  and 
perform  whatsoever  shall  be  requested,  according 
to  its  nature  and  office. 

4  i 


616 


If  they  are  yet  obstinate  and  ir*% 


not  depart,  but  rather  will  with?  ^ 


e? 


of  the  Magician,  let  him  say  a* 


& 


Do  you  thus  impudently  withstar  ^  ^    £   f;     ""  •* 

our  presence,  and  from  the  place.      '    *    fi    \      *  if 

us  :  in  the  name  of  Jesus,  we  sr        ^   £    *     "* 

mediately  gone  away  from  J  •*    -    #     '"  ^ 

word  of  God,  which  judgetj?  \    *    f  ^UQW 

unto  confusion,  from  con*/  *     ?  liild  Aow  #n 

nation,  from  damnation »  *^  . 

the  last  cry,  and  rema'.  „  \\eU  tiieif  intrude 

due,  as  a  fit  reward ;r  to  decei  ' 

mercy  graciously  r ■  ■;.  -  '  «•««« 

/'  .e  sufficiently  .and  at  large 

And  if  r  ^  fdrth  in  our  Isogogicall  Pre- 

of  light,  ^exed  thereunto ;  therefore,  we  shall 
or  sea)  0I,ly  shew  forth  a  method  of  our  greethv 
dark-  -.rition  of  any  celestial  angel,  or  dignified 
ouf/  of  %ht ;  and  when,  by  all  the  prescript  rales 
0-  >,  that  apparition  is  truly  known  to  be  celes- 
•  ^  and  of  good,  then  humbly  receive  it  with  ample 
ynevolence,  saying  as  folio weth. 

Co  rercibe  a  goofc  appearance, 

r«/rame  fc  tte  %W  o/tte  /%*„*,  and  nvlcom*  be  the  meLnaer.afru  ■ 
Grace  and  Mercy  unto  u,,  the  true  .ervanU  and  nvr.hZpe^oTfT*™''" 
God,  whose  name  be  glorified,  both  now  and  for  ctermore\  nmt9-r 

SStyeit  fenoton  to  be  goolr. 
If  the  appearance  is  perfectly  known  and  under 
stood,  and  by  all  signs  and  tokens  perfectly  known 
to  be  celestial  or  angelical  powers  of  liorut    t, 
with  due  reverence,  say  as  followeth,         &    ' 

Kttcibittg  goon  angfle. 

O  thon  wrTMls  .nd  mesaengers  of  dWine  grace  and  mere*  an*  ~, 
•ngel.  or  intelligence,  power,  of  light,  o,  digged  .le^^lT* 


-       €19 

madiums  of  benevolence  to  mankind,  servants  of  God,  you,  both  now  at  this 
time,  and  always  are,  and  shall  be  unto  us,  truly  and  sincerely  welcome. 
Humbly  desiring  yon  also  to  be  friendly,  and  to  do  for  us  in  whatsoever  it 
shall  please  God  to  give  by  your  order  and  office  unto  yon,  for  the  better  know- 
ledge and  benefit  of  mankind  living  here  upon  earth,  and  make  us  partakers 
of  true  science,  in  the  nndeflled  and  sincere  sacred  wisdom  of  your  Creator. 

ftttttotr* 

And  if  any  answer  shall  be  made  thereunto,  or 
any  discourse  from  hence  should  arise  or  proceed 
thereupon,  then  both  wisdom  and  reason  must  be 
the  principal  conduct  of  the  management  thereof; 
but  if  there  be  silence,  that  no  discourse  ariseth 
from  hence,  then  begin  to  make  humble  request  for 
answer  to  your  desires  and  proposals;  then  will 
the  effects  of  all  things,  undoubtedly,  and  with  good 
success,  be  determined. 

JFcat  or  mi*tru6t+ 

But  if  there  should  any  fear,  doubt,  or  misprission, 
or  just  cause  or  jealousy  be  had  or  made  of  any  ex- 
pected apparition,  or  any  angel  or  intelligence  of 
celestial  orders,  or  other  elemental  power  of  light, 
celestially  dignified,  or  otherwise ;  if  at  any  time 
there  should  appear  a  spirit  which  you  do  not  think 
is  of  good,  nor  of  the  order  you  moved  for,  or  have 
any  mistrust  of  it,  the  which  you  may  easily  per- 
ceive by  form,  and  also  by  its  answering  you  in 
your  question,  and  then  you  may  say  as  folio weth. 

Co  ftttoto  tofjo  it  t*< 

In  the  name  of  Jesus,  who  art  thou?  then,  perhaps, 
it  will  say,  I  am  the  servant  of  God ;  then  you  may 
say,  art  thou  come  from  God  ?  art  thou  sent  from 
him  with  good  tidings  or  messuage?  then,  perhaps,  it 


620 

will  say  to  you,  or  some  such  like  words,  what  1 
am,  he  knoweth  of  whom  I  bear  witness !    Then 
you  may  ask  its  name,  saying  then,  what  is  your 
name,  either  as  it  is  notified  among  the  blessed 
angels,  or  called  by  any  mortal  man  ?    if  you  be  of 
verity,   and  so  of  charity,  you  cannot  dislike  my 
speeches.    Then  it  will  tell  you  its  name,  or  say 
nothing  at  all :    but  if  it  doth  tell  you  its  name, 
then  you  may  say  to  it,  if  you  be  in  the  name  of 
Jesus,  say  that  all  wicked  angels  are  justly  con- 
demned, and  that  by  the  mercies  of  God  in  the 
merits  of  Christ,  mankind  elect  is  to  be  saved  ! 
Then  it  will  give  you  a  sufficient  answer  to  satisfy 
you,  or  else  it  will  be  gone  from  you ;   and  then,  if 
it  be  of  good,  and  hath  answered  your  request,  then, 
perhaps,  it  will  say,  .thus  much  thou  hast  required ; 
then  you  may  say,  I  did  so,  for  so  is  his  judgement 
and  justice  against  the  impenitent,  and  his  mercy 
to  his  elect,  testify  truth. 

(fren  pou  mas  a*ft  i>our  frmtr* 

We  thought  good  to  instance  thus  much,  for 
better  information  and  instruction,  although  a  full 
narrative  hereof  is  amply  and  at  large  shewed 
forth,  in  the  foregoing  lsogogicall  Preface,  both  as 
to  knowledge,  and  receiving  of  good  angels,  or 
celestial  intelligences,  or  other  elemental  spirits  or 
powers  of  light,  angellically  or  celestially  dignified ; 
and  for  the  knowledge,  vanquishing,  and  driving 
away  of  all  evil  spirits  and  infernal  powers  of  dark* 
ness,  whensoever  any  such  shall  forcibly  intrude,  or 
make  entrance  or  appearance,  instead  of 


(ill 

and  good  angels,  or  other  dignified  elemental 
powers  of  light,  in  the  time  and  place  of  these 
actions,  purposely  to  deceive,  confound,  and,  if 
possible,  destroy  the  hopes,  and  expectations,  and 
benefits  of  the  philosophers,  in  their  elaborate  in- 
dustry, and  care,  and  earnest  addresses  unto  the 
celestial  angels  and  blessed  intelligence,  or  digni- 
fied elemental  powers,  or  other  spiritual  mediums 
or  messengers  of  divine  grace,  for  the  true  know- 
ledge and  finding  out  the  use  of  all  physical  and 
metaphysical  arcanums,  or  secrets  in  a  superior 
profound  mistery,  which  can  not  otherwise  be 
known  or  found  out,  but  by  the  divine  light  and 
conduct  of  angellical  ministry,  and  other  spiritual 
revelation  and  instruction  by  such  mediums  and 
benevolence  to  mankind;  and  through  the  divine 
grace,  mercy,  and  goodness  of  the  Highest,  as  are 
by  nature,  order,  and  office,  thereunto  pre-ordi- 
nately  decreed  and  appointed.  But  as  touching  the 
insisting  any  farther  of  this  matter,  we  think  it 
needless ;  since  it  is  more  fully  treated  in  the  fore- 
going preface,  which  we  advise  to  be  well  under- 
stood, by  a  due  and  serious  consideration,  before 
any  progress  or  unadvisedly  proceedings  are  made 
herein.  Observe,  also,  whereas  we  have  severally 
and  particularly  mentioned  celestial  angels,  or 
blessed  intelligences,  and  other  dignified  spirits  of 
light,  who  are  by  nature  and  office  good,  and  also 
friendly  unto  mankind,  and  generally  inserts 
them  together  with  material  distinction  ;  yet  let 
grave  and  sober  Magicians  take  notice  what  con- 
sideration be  first  had,  of  what  angel  or  intelli- 
gence, of  what  spirits,  and  of  what  orders,  office,  he 
would  move  or  call  forth ;  and  so  in  particular  to 


022 


make  mention  thereof  according,  and  not  other- 
wise, whereunto  every  thing  ought  by  nature,  de- 
gree, order,  and  office,  properly  to  be  referred. 

Here  endeth  the  Isogogicall  Preface,  or  Second 
Introduction. 


ft  Wra»er  to  lie  *atH  firfore  tfje  motoing,  or  ratling 

fort!)  any  of  tfte  celestial  ttttr  Utgenrr*  to  tomtit 

appearance,  ftp  tl)r  follolmng  top* 

or  provocation*. 

O  almighty,  immortal,  immense,  incomprehensible,  and  most  high  God, 
the  only  creator  of  heaven  and  earth,  who  by  thy  word  alone  hast  in  thy 
omniscience,  among  the  rest  of  the  marvellous  and  wonderful  works,  placed 
and  appointed  many  hierarchies  of  sacred  celestial  angels,  from  this  mighty  and 
unspeakable  throne  unto  the  fiery  region,  as  ministering  spirits  of  severall 
names,  natures,  degrees,  order,  and  offices,  residing  in  those  eleven  orbs,  or 
spheres,  placed  one  above  the  other,  and  the  proper  mansions  of  those 
blessed  angels  or  mediums,  or  superior  messengers,  both  mediate  and  imme- 
diate of  divine  grace,  light,  and  mercy,  and  amongst  the  sons  of  men,  from 
the  beginning  of  time,  called  sacred,  celestial  intelligences,  from  the  orb, 
r»jgion,  or  element  of,  from  the  superior  to  the  inferior,  in  the  severall  and 
respective  orbicular  mansions,  orders,  and  offices,  do  serve  before  thee,  to 
obey  thy  commandments  and  most  high  commands,  as  in  thy  divine  will  and 
pleasure,  in  the  unity  of  the  blessed  Trinity,  is  decreed  and  appointed;  and  also 
by  thy  most  gracious  and  merciful  permission  to  minister  unto,  and  to  illumi- 
nate the  understanding  of  thy  servants,  the  sons  of  men  ;  and  by  their  frequent 
appearance,  verbal  converse,  friendly  community,  angelicall  archidoctions,  and 
other  spiritual  justincts,  continually  from  time  to  time,  and  at  all  times, 
directing,  instructing,  and  inspiring  them  in  all  true  scionce  and  sapience, 
and  also  to  fulfil  thy  divine  will  and  good  pleasure  therein,  to  all  such  of  thy 
humble  and  true  servants,  whom  thou  art  graciously  pleased  to  shew  forth 
thy  bountiful  and  paternal  mercies,  we,  thy  most  sinful  and  undutiful  ser* 
rants  the  least  of  thy  blessings;  yet  with  an  assured  confidence  of  thy 
li  uvenly  benignities,  do,  in  thy  holy  fear,  humbly  prostrate  ourselves  before 
thy  aln  i:;hry  presence,  at  the  sacred  feet  of  thy  fatherly  goodness  and  cle- 
mency, in  all  contrition  of  heart  and  earnestness  of  spirit,  humble  beseeching 
thy  omnipotent  majesty  to  have  mercy,  pity,  and  compassion  upon  us,  and  to 
pardon  all  our  sins  and  offences  that  we  have  committed  against  thee;  and  in 
thy  infinite  goodness,  graciously  to  dignify  us  with  celestial  dignity,  by  the 
power  of  thy  holy  spirit,  and  grant  that  these  thy  glorious  rainistring  angels, 
or  blessed  intelligences,  who  are  said  to  govern  and  reside  in  the  nine  orbs, 
orders,  and  hierarciiies,  as  they  are  severally  and  respectively  therein  placed 
and  set  over,  that  is  to  say,  fHetf)tattoil  in  the  ninth  moveable  heaven,  in  the 


023 

order  of  sera  phi  ns,  VafOfl  in  the  highest  orb,  or  starry  heaven  or  firmament, 
in  the  order  of  cherubins ;  Gowclf  or  £*m)fctfl,  and  (Tajn)frl  in  the  seventh  orb 
or  heaven  of  Saturn,  in  the  order  of  thrones ;  $arf)ifl  or  fhMUL  in  the  sixth 
orbt  or  beaten  of  Jupiter,  in  the  order  of  dominations ;  SbtiUtl  in  the  fifth 
orb  or  heaven  of  Mars,  in  the  order  of  potentates  ;  f&tt%Qtl  and  IRml  in  the 
the  fourth  orb  of  heaven,  of  Sol,  in  the  order  of  virtues ;  fllttfl  in  the  third 
orb,  or  beaten  of  Venus,  in  the  order  of  principalities  ;  ttop|atl  in  the  se- 
cond orb,  or  heaven  of  Mercury,  in  the  order  of  archangels ;  CaObtttl  in  the 
first  orb  or  heaven  of  Luna,  in  the  order  of  angels ;  messengers  of  divine 
grace,  from  the  superior  to  the  inferior,  residing  and  bearing  office  in  each 
respective  orb  of  beaten,  and  hierarchies,  severally  and  distinctly,  in  gene- 
ral and  particular,  and  also  all  others,  thy  benevolent  messengers,  spirits  of 
light,  residing  in  the  orbicular  spheres,  angels,  orders,  mansions,  divisions, 
and  the  heavens,  by  thy  divine  goodness  and  permission,  and  at  our  humble 
request,  invitations,  and  invocations  may  descend  and  appear  to  us,  in  this 
(Install  Stone  or  gltWS,  which  we  shall  call  receptacles,  as  bebg  all  con- 
venient for  the  receiving  of  all  angellical  and  spiritual  presence  in  their  ap- 
pearance, and  so  for  that  purpose  set  here  before  us,  for  that  they  which  we 
beseech  thee  Lord  to  bless  and  to  dignify,  first  with  thy  omnipotent  confir- 
mation, and  secondly,  by  the  influence  of  the  angelical  confirmations,  by 
them  conveyed  therefore,  and  conjoined  thereunto  ;  and  also  by  their  splen- 
did presence,  and  that  in  and  through  the  same,  they  may  transmit  their 
luminous  rays,  or  true  and  real  presence,  in  appearance,  to  the  sight  of  our 
eyes,  and  their  voices  to  our  cars,  that  we  may  plainly  and  visibly  see  them, 
ani  audibly  hear  them  speak  unto  us,   or  otherwise  to  appear  out  of  them, 
and  besides  them  visibly  to  be  seen  and  heard  of  us,  as  shall  please  thy 
divine  will,  and  shall  best  and  most  benefit  our  benefit  and  comfort,  and  also 
befitting  our  conveniency  in  these  actions,  inquisitions,  matters  of  things 
that  we  thus  humbly  beseech  thee  to  give  and  grant  unto  us,  and  all  things 
else  that  shall  be  necessary  for  us,  which  great  benefits  thou  hast  been 
pleased  mercifully  heretofore,  to  omit  and  give  our  pnceslors  and  forefathers, 
and  also,  lately  to  such  of  thy  servants  as  we  have  humbly,  faithfully,  un- 
feignedly,  and  obediently  besought  thee  for  true  wisdom,  by  divine  and  ange- 
lical inspiration  and  instruction,  which  they  hate  fully  enjoyed  by  the  mi- 
nistry of  thy  sacred  angels. 


Cfn  nine  great  eeleattai  fte»0,  or  angr- 

Ural!  Inborattona* 

Moving  or  calling  forth  to  visible  appearance  the 
governing  angels  or  blessed  intelligences,  and  all 
other  of  the  celestial  ministring  angels  and  mediums 
spiritual  of  divine  light;  grace,  and  virtue,  located, 
residing,  and  bearing  rule  in  the  seven  orbs,  hea- 


J24 

vens,  mansions,  or  spheres,  as  they  are  primarily, 
attributed  and  properly  referred  to  in  the  seven 
Planets,  the  starry  firmament,  and  first  mover,  who 
therein  acccording  to  every  and  each  of  their  re- 
spective hierarchies,  orders,  and  offices,  whereunto 
they  distinctly  appertain,  do  serve  and  obey  the 
commands  of  the  most  high  God,  and  both  imme- 
diately and  mediately,  as  messengers  and  servants 
spiritual  of  divine  grace  and  light,  and  mercy,  ful- 
filling his  omnipotent  decrees,  determinations,  and 
appointments,  as  dispensable  and  disposed  of  at 
his  omniscience,  will,  and  pleasure,  and  who  are 
frequently  conversant  and  familiar  with  such  holy, 
pious,  and  devout — living  on  earth,  whensoever  they 
are  by  them  called  forth  to  visible  appearance,  as 
either  may  or  fitly  shall  be  qualified  therefore,  or 
otherwise  endowed  with  celestial  gifts,  blessings, 
and  confirmations,  by  angelical  mystery  or  divine 
grace,  more  superior. 


#&e"firat  !**»♦ 

Moving  or  calling  forth  to  visible  appearance 
the  celestial  hierarchies  of  angels,  of  the  order  of 
seraphins,  whose  principal  governing  angel  or 
blessed  intelligence,  bearing  rule,  is  Mithratton, 
and  residing  in  the  ninth  orb,  mansion,  or  sphere, 
called  the  primum  mobile  of  the  first  moveable 
heaven. 


023 


©fie  Vraptr,  or  Jnboration. 

O  yoa  glorious,  great,  sacred,  and  celestial  angel,  orbtessed  intelligence, who 
art  called  /Uctftrattfllt,  and  all  other,  the  celestial  angels,  servants  of  the  most 
high,  omnipotent,  incomprehensible,  immense,  eternal  God  of  hosts,  the  only 
creator  of  heaven  and  eaith,  and  of  all  things  whatsoever,  both  celestial,  ele- 
mental, animal,  vegetable,  mineral,  and  reptile,  or  inscc's  that  is  contained 
therein,  or  comprehended,  and  serving  as  ministering  angel*,  present  always 
before  at  his  most  high,  sup  rinr,  and  divine  commands  and  appointments,  in 
the  order  or  hierarchies  of  angrls  called  ifcrrapfjtlOT,  and  residing  in  the  ninth 
heaven,  and  bearing  office,  rule,  and  power,  in  the  mansion,  orb,  or  sphere, 
called  the  first  mover;  we,  the  servants  also  of  the  Highest,  reverently  here 
present  in  his  holy  fear,  do  call  upon,  humbly  request,  earnestly  entreat,  and 
move  yoa  to  visible  appearance,  in,  by,  and  through  this  most  excellent,  in- 
effable, great,  mighty,  signal,  sacred,  and  divine  name  of  the  most  high  God, 
£(fta,  and  his  numerical  attribute,  fcrtftrr.  who  sitteth  in  the  most  imperial 
and  highest  heaven,  before  whom  all  the  hosts  and  choir  of  celestial  angers 
incessantly  sing,  <£>  mJppa-'ltUmanlKlllfiujiL  And  by  the  seal  of  your  crea- 
tion, being  the  mark  of  character  of  holiness  unto  you,  and  by  the  occult 
mystery,  secret  virtue,  and  efficacy  and  influence  thereof,  dignifying  and  con- 
forming you  in  orders,  offices,  name,  nature,  corporality,  with  divine,  celes- 
tial, angellical,  immortal,  eternal,  and  sublime  excellency,  glory,  power, 
parity  and  perfection,  good  and  love,  first  unto  the  service  of  the  most  high 
God,  and  his  divine  laws  and  commands,  and  next  unto  the  charge,  care,  con- 
duct, council,  comfort,  benefit,  and  assistance  of  his  servants,  the  sons  of 
men,  living  on  earth,  to  inspire,  i  .struct,  and  give  them  unto  the  knowledge 
and  way  of  truth,  and  all  true  physical  and  metaphysical  science,  either  im- 
mediately from  the  Holy  Ghost,  unto  more  choice  vessels  of  honour,  or  medi- 
ately by  divine  grace  and  permission  from  your  self  or  selves,  unto  the  sons 
of  men,  servants  of  God  dwelling  on  earth,  whensoever  you  shall  be  of  them 
invocated  and  called  forth,  and  thereby  moved  to  descend  and  appear  unto 
them,  and  by  all  aforesaid,  and  by  the  great  signal  virtue,  power,  dignity, 
excellency,  and  efficacy  thereof,  both  immediately,  primary,  and  mediately, 
secondary,  by  respective  mediums  of  divine  liijht,  grace,  and  mercy,  as  ordi- 
nately  dependent,  and  so  thereby  flowing,  and  accordingly  diffusing  by  seve- 
ral emanations  proper,  a  simbolizing  power  and  virtue,  from  the  superior  to 
the  inferior,  we  do  humbly  beseech,  earnestly  request,  and  incessantly  in- 
treat  you,  O  you  magnificent,  benevolent,  and  sacred  angel,  or  blessed  intel- 
ligence, /Hrtffratton,  who,  said  to  be  the  principal  celestial  angel,  or  blessed 
intelligence,  governing  the  ninth  heaven,  mansion,  orb,  or  sphere,  called  the 
first  mover,  together  with  all  others,  the  benevolent,  sacred,  and  celestial 
angels  or  intelligence,  ministers  of  truth,  or  true  science  and  sapience,  both 
celestial  and  terrestial  messengers  spiritual  of  light,  and  mediums  of  divine 
grace,  located,  bearing  rule,  and  residing  in  the  order,  or  hierarchy,  and 
office,  called  £rrapf}tnf,  in  the  ninth  heaven,  orb,  or  sphere,  of  the  first 
mover,  from  the  superior  to  the  inferior,  in  general  and  particular,  jointly 
auid  severally,  every,  each  one,  by  oftVe  and  degree  respectively,  and  to  gird 
up  and  gather  yourselves  together,  and  some  one  or  more  of  you,  as  it  shall 

4k 


(yjj 

please  God,  by  divine  permission,  to  move  and  descend  from  your  celestial 
mansion,  or  place  of  residence,  in  this  Christal  Stone,  or  Glass  Receiver,  and 
therein  to  appear  visibly  unto  us  ;    and  we  do  also  entreat  you  would  be 
favourably  pleased,  in  and  through  the  same,  to  transmit  your  true  angel lical 
and  real  presence,  plainly  unto  the  sight  of  eyes,  and  your  voice  to  oar  ears, 
that  we  may  visibly  see  you,  and  audibly  hear  you  speak  unto  us,  or  other- 
wise to  appear  out  of  the  same,  as  it  shall  please  God,  and  you  his  servants 
of  divine  grace,  and  messengers  of  mercy,  as  seemeth  most  meet,  proper, 
pertinent,  or  best  befitting  this  action,  appearance,  occasion,  or  matter,  and 
the  shew  plainly  and  visibly  unto  us,   a  foregoing  sign,  or  test  of  your  ap- 
pearance ;   and  we  also  yet  farther  humbly  request,  earnestly  entreat,  and 
beseech,  and  undeniably  move  you,  O  you  benevolent  and  glorious  angel, 
and  blessed  intelligence,  Methralton — together  with  all  others,   the  sacred 
celestial  angels,  or  intelligences,  from  the  superior  to  the  inferior  in  power 
and  office,  residing  in  the  ninth  orb,  or  sphere,  called  the  first  moveable  hea- 
ven, and  serving  the  divine  decrees,  commands,  and  appointments  of  the 
highest,  in  the  office  and  order  of  Seraphims,  in,  through,  and  by  this  divine  sig- 
nal  majesty,  and  powerful  name  of  your  God,  l£f)r}a,  and   his  attribute, 
iSUtijcr,  and  the  great  efficacy,  virtue,  excellent  power,  prevalency,  and  supe- 
riority thereof  to  gather  together  every,  each  one  jointly,  and  by  itself,  res- 
pectively and  severally  to  move  and  descend  from  your  celestial  mansion,  or 
place  of  residence,  apparently  visible  to  our  eyes  in  this  CfjrtMal  jttuJtf,  0t 
481*100  XtCCttbtf,  standing  here  before  us,  as  being  sent  for  your  purpose,  or 
otherwise  out  of  th"  same,  as  it  shall  please  God  ;  and  by  you,  his  servants 
of   Divine  Grace,   Light,   and    Mercy,  seemeth  best  befitting  this  action; 
and  also  be  friendly  unto  us,  and  by  your  angelical  benevolence  and  eelestial 
illumination,  and  favourable  assistance,  familiar  Society,  mutual  correspon- 
dency, verbal  converse,  continual  community,  and  sacred  instructions,  both 
now,  at  this  present  time,  and  at  all  other  times  to  inform  and  more  rightly 
direct  our  more  weak,  depraved,  stupid,  and  ignorant  intellect,  judgements, 
and  understandings  ;    and  to  conduct  us  by  your  angelical  inBtincts  and  ar- 
chidoctions,  into  the  luminous  pathway  of  truth,  leading  and  giving  entrance 
into  ports,  cities,  and  palaces  of  wisdom,  and  true  sapience  ;  and  to  make  us 
partakers  of  undefiled  knowledge,  without  whose  angelical  guide,  spiritual 
conduct,  blessed  assistance,  and  benevolent  advertisement,  it  is  very  difficult, 
if  not  impossible  for  us,  or  any  mortal  on  Earth,  to  find,  or  obtain,  or  to  bees- 
teemed  worthy  of  entrance  into  your  testimony  :    wherefore  we  humbly  en- 
treat and  move  you,  O  you  great,  sacred,  and  celestial  ministring  angel  or 
intelligence  fflctfjratton,  and  all  other  the  president  and  inferiour  angels  and 
servants  of  the  most  High  God,  presiding  and  officiating  in  the  ninth  Heaven, 
mansion,  orb,  or  sphere  of  the  first  mover,  in  the  order  of  hierarchy  of  angels 
called  $erapf)tlR0.  who  all  obediently  serve  and  readily  fulfil  his  omnipotent 
decrees  and  commandments  in  his  divine  dispensations,  and  appointments  ac- 
cording to  your  general  and  respective  offices,  in,  by,  and  through  his  inef- 
fable, imperial,  great,  signal,  and  divine  name,  Grfjeja,  and  his  numeral  attribute 
lUtfjn*,  and  by  power,  virtue,  and  efficacy  thereof,  we  the  servants  of  the 
same  your  God,  and  by  the  strength  and  force  of  our  hope  and  faith  in  him 
for  Divine  assistance,  grace,  and  mercy  therein,  do  earnestly  request,  power- 
fully invocate,  and  confidently  move  you,  and  call  you  forth  to  visible  ap- 


(i27 

dearaoce  here  before  us  in  this  Cfrrtatal  $toitl  ot  (Sfeff  ItatflttT,  or  other- 
wise oat,  as  it  shall  please  God,  and  is  given  unto  yon  so  to  do,  and  likewise 
to  shew  visibly  unto  us  a  foregoing  sign  of  your  appearance ;  O  you 
servants  of  mercy,  JStctyrottOtU  and  all  other  the  celestial  ministring  angels, 
messengers,  and  mediums  of  Divine  grace  and  light  from  the  superior  power 
and  permission  in  the  name  of  the  Highest,  desceud  and  appear,  and  visibly 
shew  yourselves  jointly,  and  severally,  and  respectively,  unto  us  In  this 
Clnrtilal  $toftt  or  Glass  ttactbfr,  standing  here  before  us  ;  or  otherwise  out 
of  the  same,  as  it  shall  please  God  to  appoint  and  permit  you  ;  and  to  shew 
us  a  proceeding  sign  thereof,  and  by  your  immediate  angelical  Inspiration, 
and  information,  and  chief  teaching,  to  instruct,  help,  and  aid,  and  assist  us 
both  now,  at  this  time  present,  and  also  at  all  other  times,  and  places,  when- 
soever aod  wheresoever  we  shall  invocate,  move,  or  call  you  forth  to  visible 
appearance,  and  to  our  assistance  in  whatsoever  truth,  subject,  matter,  or 
thing  appertaining  thereunto  in  all  wisdom  and  true  sapience,  both  celestial 
and  terrestial,  and  that  shall  be  necessary  for  os ;  and  also  as  any  other 
emergent  occasion  shall  properly  and  duly  require,  to  the  advancement  and 
and  salting  forth  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  improvement  of  our  welfare,  com- 
fort, and  benefit  of  our  worldly  and  temporal  estate  and  condition,  while  yet 
we  live ;  and  likewise  in  all  such  matters  or  things  whatsoever  else  you  shall 
be  necessary  for  us  to  know  and  to  enjoy,  even  beyond  what  we  are  able  to 
ask  or  think,  which  the  Almighty  Giver  of  all  good  gifts  shall,  in  his  bounti- 
ful and  paternal  mercy  be  graciously  pleased  hereby  to  give  you,  and  reveal, 
and  shew  forth  unto  us,  or  otherwise  to  bestow  upon  us,  O  you  great  angel, 
or  blessed  intelligence,   /HctfjrattOTT,  aitft  flll  OttffT  jDOU  ttlrStUl!  81Tgtl0  of  tfyt 

ortrtr  of  Sreroptiimc,  /HrTiiums  of  Dtbine  grace  anir  mrrrs,  fHfaister*  of  trot 
light  an&  untirratairtung,  onto  Bcrbanta  of  tfpe  Jftcfttfttgf)  <ffiofc,  particularly  re- 
cited and  respectively  spoken  of,  invocated,  moved,  and  called  forth  to  visi- 
ble appearance  aforesaid.  tlfSrrnb  toe  031?,  and  by  the  power  of  superior  com- 
mission from  one  or  moie  of  you  appear  visibly  here  before  us  as  for  the 
servants  of  the  Most  High  God,  whereunto  we  move  you  all,  jointly  and 
severally  in  your  power  and  presence,  whose  works  shall  be  a  song  of 
honour,  and  the  praise  of  your  God  in  your  Creator.     SoiflL 

Let  the  foregoing  Invocation  be  devoutly  and  se- 
riously read  ;  then  make  a  pause  for  about  9  minutes 
of  time,  or  a  little  more  than  half  a  quarter  of  an 
hour;  and  if  nothing  appear  neither  within  the 
Christal  stone,  or  otherwise  out  of  the  same  to  vi- 
sible appearance,  then  read  with  good  devotion  the 
following  replication,  4  or  5  times  observing  the 
like  time  aforesaid  betwixt  each  replication. 


628 


Implication* 

O  ye  glorious  angel  or  blessed  intelligence,  who  by  name  is  called  HUt$riW 

ton,  and  all  other  ge  gaere&  crlestia!  angels  of  tfle  orfcrr  of  £rrap?)im*,  residing 

or  located  by  mansion,  orb,  or  sphere  of  heaven,  called  the  ifctmtim  JStoitlt* 
OX  tf)C  firfit  mobcatle  Itjcabeil,  particularly  recited,  mentioned,  moved,  and 
called  forth  to  visible  appearance,  as  in  the  foregoing  invocation  ;  and  ha'h 
been  of  us  lately,  and  more  at  large,  rehearsed,  humbly  solicited,  and  earn- 
estly requested  by  the  virtue,  power,  force,  and  efficacy  whereof,  and  of  all 
the  royal  word?  and  sentences  therein  contained  ;  and  also  by  the  mighty, 
great,  powerful,  and  excellent  name  of  the  Most  High  God,  4£}ff4,  and  his 
numerall  attribute  l&ctf)er;  or  otherwise  by  the  truest  and  most  especial 
name  of  your  God,  we,  the  servants  of  the  Highest,  reverently,  here  present, 
in  his  holy  fear,  attending  his  divine  grace,  mercy,  and  good  pleasure,  pater- 
nally unto  us  herein,  do,  by  the  strength  and  power  of  our  faith,  hope,  and 
confidence  of,  and  in  our  God,  and  our  confirmation  in  his  holy  spirits,  dig- 
nifying us  with  superior  power  and  perfection,  humbly  entreat,  and  earn- 
estly request,  and  powerfully  move  you,  O  you  great  angels  or  blessed  in- 
telligence, from  the  superior  to  the  inferior,  in  general,  and  particular,  every, 
each  one,  for  and  by  itself,  respectively  by  degree,  nature,  and  office,  resid- 
ing in  the  mansion  or  9th  orb  of  the  first  moveable  Heaven,  and  serving  the 
commands  of  the  Highest  in  the  order  and  hierarchy  of  angels  called  J^tv 

vapfjims ;  mobe,  therefore,  ©  sou  great  ano  glortmw  angel  JHetfrrattoit*  or 

some  one  or  more  of  you,  O  ye  sacred  celestial  angels  of  the  order  of  ^e» 
tapf)un0,  by  degree,  nature,  and  office ;  and  by  the  power,  virtue,  and  effi- 
cacy of  all  aforesaid,,  descend  and  appear  visibly  unto  us,  in  this  C$rfstal 
&tOM,  or  <Sla90  Kember ;  or  otherwise  out  of  the  same  here  before  us,  as  it 
shall  please  the  Most  High  God,  and  also  goil,  f)ifl  celestial  JBcSSengrrs  of 
IBibint  grace  anfc  ntertg,  and  to  shew  forth  plainly  unto  us,  some  remarkable 
Sign  or  token  foregoing  your  coming  ant*  appearance;  and  to  be  friendly  nolo 
us,  and  to  do  for  us  as  for  the  servants  of  the  Highest,  w hereunto  in  his 

name.toe  oo  again  earnestfe  request  ana  mobe  ;r»ou  hot!)  m  potorr  onto  prettou* 

whose  friendship  unto  us  herein  shall  be  a  song  of  honour,  and  the  praise 
of  your  God  in  your  Creation.    S3  mm. 

****** 

****** 

^P  ^R>  ^*  ^p  ^p  ^f 


The  manuscript  here  ends  with  the  example  of 
"the  first  key:"  but  this  will  no  doubt,  leave  Celes- 
tial Magic  sufficiently  exemplified  for  the  amuse* 
ment  of  my  readers. 


029 


FATAL    HOROSCOPES. 


No.  IV. 


Cfjr  Nattbitg  of  an  Infant. 


Hi 


C32 


THE  PHILOSOPHER'S  STONE. 

Part  2. 

Nature  presents  us  with  one  of  the  materials 
necessary  for  the  practice  and  perfection  of  this 
art,  ready  formed  to  hand  and  fit  for  use,  as  the 
body,  matter,  or  "fcTagtf  in  which  we  work,  is  found 
in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,*  according  as  I  have 
stated  in "  the  former  part  of  this  treatise.  The 
astral  spirit  is  a  liquid,  fair  and  clear,  like  water, 
and  without  the  enjoyment  of  which,  no  man  could 
liVe.  .  With  these  two  materials  we  begin  the  work 
of  Hermes,  and  for  this  commencement  we  must 
take  nature  for  our  guide ;  for  in  like  manner  as  she 
softens  and  gives  to  the  earth  its  fructifying  property, 
by  rain  and  dews,  so  we  imbibe  our  solid  matter 
with  our  astral  spirit. 

By  this  means  our  matter  becomes  incorporated 
and  combined  with  the  generative  essence  of  nature, 
contained  in  our  water ;  in  this  manner,  by  frequent 
imbibitions  and  desinations,  our  matter  becomes 
dead  and  putrifies,  and  in  putrifying  it  arises  again 
to  a  more  perfect  state  of  existence,  according  to 
the  universal  law  of  sublunary  things.  It  must  not 
be  supposed  that  because  the  matter  becomes  dry, 
that  it  retains  nothing  of  the  virtue  of  the  former 
imbibitions  :  it  merely  looses  the  aqueous  part ;  and 
I  will  endeavour  to  prove  this  to  those  who  may 


not  understand  the  science  of  Chemi.- try,  and  yet 
he  inclined  to  study  the  art  of  Alchemy.  J  will 
take  lor  example  the  formation  of  dauber's  salt. 

If  you  take  a  portion  of  Caustic  or  Carbonate  of 

Soda,  on  one  part,  hiuImhiio  Sulphuric  Acid  on  the 

other,  and  you  imbibe  the  Soda  with  the  Arid,  they 

will  mutually  neutralize  one  another,  and  you  will 

obtain  a  liquid  which  is  iudli.tr  acid  nor  alkaline; 

and   an   intimate   and   electrical  eo»  .hh.ation  will 

have  taken  place  between  t!«o  tv.o  bodies  from  this 

liquid.      Ly  evaporation  \ou  may  obtain  crystals, 

which   will  be  composed  of  (re  ja.t  or  atom  of 

Soda,  two  of  Acid,   and  tv.  eniv  of  \.afer:    if  mux 

sulferthc-e  cr\^tals  to  drw.or  even  if  vou  calcine 

them,  you  wiil  nev  r  he  aide  to  make  tl.cm  loo>e 

more  than  the  io  p:  ri*  cf  v.at  r;    the  Acid  will 

remain  in  a  fixed  and  solid  soue  with  the  calcined 

salt.     So  we  must  cor.cehc  the  theory  of  our  im- 

bibitions  ;  when  our  nnller  dries,  it  still  retains  to 

itself  the  t^!r:d    c^en<e    contained    in  our  water. 

Having  conducted  the  unbiassed  reader  thus  far, 

we  will  proceed  to  the  practice  <,i  the 


For  this,  it  will  be  necessary  to  have  a  small  box, 
with  a  door,  about  a  foot  high,  hr^ing  its  top  and 
bottom  pierced  with  holes,  and  a  shelf  of  wire  grat- 
ing placed  rather  more  than  halfway  up  on  the  in- 
side; on  this  shelf  you  can  place  an  evaporating 
dish,  of  glass  or  Wedgewood  ware,  which  will  con- 
tain the  mineral  matter,  and  at  the  bottom  of  the 

4  L 


t>34 

box  a  common  night  lamp,  with  a  small  floating 
wick,  will  cause  sufficient  heat  for  all  the  practice 
of  the  work,  which  ought  never  to  exceed  that  of 
the  egg  whilst  hatching ;  this  may  surprise  some 
persons,  but  I  do  not  write  for  charcoal  burners,  or 
for  those  who  send  gold  up  their  chimnies  by  the 
intensity  of  heat  they  employ ;  this  sort  of  work  is 
merely  destroying  nature,  and  cannot  be  called  an 
imitation.  But  to  return  to  our  subject :— the  mi- 
neral matter  must  be  divided  into  small  pieces 
about  the  size  of  peas,  and  watered  with  our  liquid ; 
care  must  be  taken  not  to  give  too  much  or  too 
little,  but  just  as  much  as  it  will  suck  up  and  no 
more ;  it  must  then  be  placed  in  the  warm  air  oven, 
and  suffered  to  dry  completely.  This  process  must 
be  continued  until  such  time  as  the  matter  becomes 
saturated  and  pregnant  with  the  astral  spirit ;  this 
will  sometimes  after  forty,  at  others  after  fifty  im- 
bibitions, often  take  from  two  to  three  days  drying:, 
and  frequently  upon  watering  it,  it  will  make  a 
small  crackling  noise ;  if  small,  white,  and  brilliant 
spots  be  observed,  it  shows  that  too  much  water 
lias  been  added  at  a  time ;  when  it  begins  to  be 
saturated,  it  becomes  clammy,  sends  forth  a  fetid 
smell  of  graves,  and  gradually  changes  colour,  be- 
comes blackish,  as  I  have  sometimes  seen  it,  as  ii 
ink  had  been  spotted  over  it.  This  is  the  beginning 
of  the  putrefaction ;  it  proceeds  on,  and  at  last  be- 
comes brown,  black,  scaly,  and  crusty,  like  pitch. 
This  the  old  adepts  called  by  divers  names,  such  as 
crow's  head,  &c.  When  it  has  attained  to  this,  it 
must  no  longer  be  watered,  but  left  in  the  gentle, 
oven  heat,  it  will  again  change  colour,  and  a  light 
colour  will  soon  be  perceived  to  encircle  the  vessel 


035 

in  which  it  is  placed.  This  will  extend  itself 
through  the  whole  matter,  which  will  shortly  be- 
come light  coloured  and  white  all  over;  this  is 
called   the   first   sublimation,    and    is   in    fact   the 

$HH  10 0Op!) (fa I  fftrrCltrS,  which  requires  to- 
be  sublimed  six  other  times  to  bring-  it  to  its  per- 
fection. These  sublimations  are  the  same  as  the 
first ;  this  white  mercury  must  again  be  imbibed 
until  it  putriiies,  changes  colour,  and  becomes  white 
again;  it  must  thus  go  through  the  seven  purifica- 
tions, which  is  sometimes  called  loosing  the  white 
doves  of  Diana,  &c.  When  vou  have  arrived  at  the 
seventh  sublimation,  you  must  next  proceed  to  se- 
parate the  pure  from  the  impure,  which  is* done  in 
the  following  manner :  the  white  substance  proceed- 
ing from  the  seven  sublimations,  must  be  dissolved 
in  our  astral  spirit,  and  suffered  to  crystalize,  w  hen 
there  will  form  on  the  top  a  sort  of  cottony  mass, 
very  brilliant,  and  floating  ;  this  is  the  long  desired, 
and  much  sought  for,  Philosophical  Mercury. 
Underneath  will  be  found  other  salts,  which  may 
be  brought  to  perfection  by  a  continuation  of  the 
work,  and  below  all,  a  pulp  will  subside  which  you 
must  keep  carefully,  as  it  contains  the  sulphur  of 
the  Magi.  Hermes  tells  you  "  not  to  throw  away 
your  ashes,  for  they  contain  the  crown  of  your  heart  " 
The  next  step  is 

Sfte  preparation  of  tt)r  £ulpfjut\ 

The  above-mentioned  pulp  must  be  imbibed 
with  our  astral  spirit,  until  it  becomes  putrej^cent; 
it  will  then  gradually  change  its  colour  to  that  of 
red,  and  is  in  this  case  the  tinging  spirit  and  blood 


G30 

of  the  pelican,  spo!»in  cf  widi  so  much  secrecy  by 
all  hermetic  writer-,  it  musi  be  gathered  carefully, 
;.:*:]  s  yar.il.d  from  t  -  (\:4\Ij  \'.  Idch  remains,  which 
\<  cic/cv!  ;':;  ^l":;„  1}.,*:1:UA.I>  is  of  no  use,  and 
mav  be  t  {;r«;.\  a  a\.a>. —  *»  e  iu,tO  now  shown  how 
the  aneiei^s  pre^mvd  the  twodrst  matters  for  their 
work  :  and  !  :  '  1^  .1  is,  ;  j  unveil  i lie  mvstcrv  of  the 

Z±i)ilG. .■.-,.  :';t*I  d ddrd?  o/ Jxisil  Valentine, 

where  i:.1  \  d  e;  ti^  while  im.:i  and  red  woman 
liiiirt  be  j  h  d  ::k;v_1i.^/ :  tj  aeromplish  this,  the 
Iierineue  void:  .  :i  mmd  proceed  in  the  follow  ins: 
mail : — the  m/j  hi:/  r;;.  i  he  divided  into  twro  parts; 
one  part  of  which  '  :u  "d  "m- ;  .it;  die:  the  other  must 
be  i-i  :  .«  di  a  f  I.,  u1  . 1,  a;*d  must  be  imbibed 
vi:  i  ...  •  '  .  re;.r,,  dis. -dved  iii  a>iral  water:  this, 
a.  di  die  do.ii  r  ca.*o,  will  require  forty  or  fifty  im- 
biddds:  •  ;  ;\d  r  which  it  will  turn  colour  and  putrify. 
l\  is  i!i.  s  v  i  ide  rem:v.';\v  is  coinj)leated,  and  you 
L\e  (,:,.  *  i  *..  '  :•:*,  !:  -vidoj-oiddcal  matter;  it  will 
Income  i  .  .   i.  :     i  r'.-.i   i;:..*;,  aid  is  then   called  the 

d  I:.'.::'4  i..d  ..  I;  •:'.':*  ae;erdin^to  the  enigmati- 
i;  [  d  .     :.  ;.e  ( .  <\   e  m..  ,  ,is,  when  it  has  attained  this 

!-;;i;,\  i,  i:;..,  d/  :...  '..):;    *d  ;  it  will  so<  n  pass  from 

i  ,i  u'm  ;d2  lS  #l...  -  .  *»>  that  oi  Luna,  aud 
\v ill  become  a  «  e,  W1  ;  v  id.,     i  brilliant  whiteness. 


'  ""  '••  -*      .'     *•       "  xV  *♦      r    f    ^ 

Idi\hs.  :•;;  c;  ■  ded  that  of  dusky  Afltttf  ilf  the 
pi\  p:  i  u:  »i  h  :s  now  ae<:umd  ds  first  sta^e  of  p:  r- 
fccliom  ;  *  d  has  not  o.  d  !  eeou.e  a  medicine  of  mi- 
p.r.cim*:  dree,  for  i:.e  ;:muau  body ;  but  it  has 
Ide'wi.e  . -.mimd  the  \-(,\\  er  of  aciing  on  metals,  and 


o:j7 

converts  them,  in  proportion  to  its  degrees  of  mul- 
tiplication, to  the  nature  of  silver.  Still  must  the 
process  be  continued ;  the  brilliancy  will  vanish, 
and  whiteness  will  subside,  and  a  greenish  colour 
will  pervade  the  whole.  This  is  the  sign  of  your 
entry  to 

C&e  Uaqn  of  ?. 

Care  must  be  taken  that  yowt  fire  be  not  too 
strong ;  the  matter  has  already  gained  a  high  degree 
of  subtility,  and  it  ought  to  be  governed  so  that  the 
mass  remains  at  the  bottom  of  the  vessel ;  by  judici- 
ous and  careful  working,  the  colour  again  changes ; 
a  yellowish  tint  ensues,  then  reddish,  lemon  colour, 
and  thus  begins  the 

lltiqnot  t. 

An  igneous  nature  is  now  abundant  in  the  mat- 
ter ;  it  marches  on  towards  the  red  ;  the  fire  must 
here  be  strengthened,  and  it  is  here  that  the  portion 
of  sulphur  which  was  formerly  put  aside,  will  be 
found  necessary,  and  it  will  be  necessary  to  continue 
the  work  with  the  solar  liquid.  This  being  done, 
the  red  colour  will  become  deeper,  a  tint  of  regal 
purple  will  be  seen,  then  let  the  student's  heart  re- 
joice, as  this  is  the  sL.n  of 

* 

We  have  now  arrived  at  our  last  labour,  and  the 
harvest  is  at  hand;  the  purple  colour  grows  darker, 
and  at  last  the  matter  will  remain  in  the  vase,  of  a 
black  red  colour,  not  unlike  a  freshly  precipitated 


638 

powder  of  Cassius,  containing'  a  large  portion  of  gold. 
If  the  student  still  wish  to  proceed  on,  and  to 
advance  as  far  as  this  part  of  the  science  will-admit, 
he  must  here  commence  the 


^multiplication ; 

Which  is  merely  an  exact  recapitulation  of  the 
foregoing  manipulations ;  but  he  must  beware  of 
proceeding  beyond  the  ninth  multiplication ;  here 
the  medicine  becomes  too  strong  and  subtle  to  be 
contained  in  any  vessel,  it  passes  through  glass  like 
olive  oil  through  paper.  My  limits  have  not  allowed 
me  to  treat  of  this  subject  in  so  detailed  a  manner 
as  I  could  have  wished,  or  I  would  have  pointed 
out  to  the  student  its  intimate  relation  writh  the 
mysteries  and  ceremonies  of  religions.  1  would 
have  shewn  that  the  mythology  teaches  this  art  in 
enigmas ;  but,  how  ever,  I  have  gone  as  far  as  my  time 
and  place  will  allow  for  the  present,  let  others  do  the 
same  on  this,  or  what  subjects  they  have  a  know- 
ledge of,  and  it  may  be  the  means  of  mutual  im- 
provement to  us  all,  in  the  sciences  and  learning 
of  the  ancient  Magi,  of  which  there  is  not  a  more 
ardent  and  zealous  admirer  than 

Your  well-wisher, 

ZADKIEL. 


iio9 

44 1  wal  tell  you  as  was  me  taught  also. 
The  four  spirits,  and  the  bodies  seveno 
By  ordne,  as  oft  I  herd  my  Lord  hem  neveoe. 
The  first  spirit,  quicksilver  cleped  U; 
The  WCOH&,  orpimente  ;  the  tf)tru\  yev  Is 
Sal  aniuoniack  ;  and  the  futility,  brimstone. 


tt 


The  bodies  sefene  eke,  when  here  anon, 
$ol,  gold  is  ;  and  Eutia,  silver  we  threpe ; 
JBarg.  iron  ;  iBtXXUXit,  quicksilver  we  clepe  ; 
&atttrttu».  lede  ;  and  £upitft\  is  tin, 
And  VtnvM,  copper,  by  my  fader  kin." 


The  following  are  the  directions  of  a  celebrated 
writer  on  Alchemy,  George  Ripley,  who  wrote  his 
Compound  of  Alchemie  in  the  15th  Century,  and 
addressed  it  to  Edward  IV. 

**  First  calcyncxAnd.  after  that  putrijic, 
Dissolve,  dystM,  tublyme,  descende,  and  Jise  ; 
With  aqua  ?it«  oft  tymus  both  weet  anddrie, 
And  make  a  marriage  the  bodye  and  sprite  hetwixte ; 
Which  thus  tog»  tlier  naturally,  if  ye  can  myxe 
In  losing  the  bodic,  the  water  shall  concealed  be, 
Then  shall  the  ladio  dy  utterly  of  the  flyxe. 
Bleeding  and  changing  colouis  b.%  ye  shall  see. 

The  third  day,  again  to  lyfe  he  shall  uprise, 
And  devour  byrds  and  beastcs  of  the  wildernesse  ; 
Crowes,  popingayes,  pyes,  pecocks,  and  me  vies ; 
The  phenix,  the  eagle  whyte,  the  gryffbn  of  fearful nesse  ; 
The  green  lyon  and  the  red  dragon  he  shall  distresse, 
The  whyte  dragon  also;  the  antelope,  unicorne,  panthere, 
With  other  byrds,  and  beasies.  both  more  and  lesse, 
The  basaliske  also,  which  almost  each  one  doth  feare* 

In  bees  and  nubi,  ho  shall  arise  and  ascende 
Up  to  the  Moone,  and  sith  up  to  the  Sunne, 
Thro'  the  ocean  sea,  which  rounde  is  without  ende, 
Onely  shypped  within  a  little  glassen  tonne  ; 
When  he  cometh  thither,  then  is  the  maistric  wonne. 
About  which  journey  greate  goode  shall  ye  notspeede, 
And  yet  ye  shall  be  glad  that  it  was  begonne, 
Patiently  if  yc  list  to  your  work  attend." 

The  following  is  extracted  fromGEBER,  a  renowned 
Philosopher  of  the  olden  time. 


640 

11  Now  let  the  high  God  of  nature,  blessed  and  glorious,  be  praised  :  who 
hath  revealed  the  series  of  all  medicines,  with  the  experience  of  them,  which, 
by  the  goodness  of  his  instigation,  and  by  our  incessant  labour,  we  bare 
searched  oat,  and  have  seen  with  our  eyes,  and  handled  with  our  hands,  the 
completement  thereof  sought  in  our  tnagistery.  But  if  we  have  concealed 
this,  let  not  the  son  of  learning  wonder ;  for  we  have  not  concealed  it  from  him, 
but  have  delivered  it  in  such  speech,  as  it  must  necessarily  be  hid  from  the 
evil  and  unj ust,  and  the  unwise  cannot  discern  it.    {Therefore  £ons  of  Doctrtw. 

*eorcft  $e  i  airtr  ge  toil!  fin*  tye  most  excellent  gift  of  ©o&\  recerbeo  tor  son  ont$. 

Ye  sons  of  folly,  and  wickedness,  and  evil  manners !  fly  away  from  this 
science,  because  it  is  inimical  and  adverse  to  you,  and  will  precipitate  yoa 
into  the  miserable  state  of  poverty.  For  this  gift  of  God  is  absolutely  by 
the  judgment  of  Dijine  Providence,  hid  from  you,  and  denied  for  ever." 

King  Gsbeb. 


The  celebrated  Raymond  Lully  is  said,  while 
on  a  visit  in  London,  to  have  converted  a  mass  of 
50,000  pounds  of  Quicksilver  into  Gold;  from  which 
Edward  I.  is  said  by  the  Alchemist,  to  have  coined 
the  first  rose-nobles,  or  according  to  others,  the  first 
guineas.  He  is  said  tq  have  rendered  his  name 
famous  by  this  exploit,  as  well  as  by  the  following 
feat : 

"  Such  art  of  multiplying  is  to  be  reproved, 
But  holy  fllfchnp  of  right  is  to  be  loved ; 
Which  treateth  of  a  precious  medicine, 
Such  as  truly  tnaketh  gold  and  silver  fine. 
Whereof  example,  for  testimony, 
Is  in  a  city  of  Catalony  ; 
Which  Raymond  Lully,  knight,  men  suppose 
Made  in  seven  images  the  truth  to  disclose ; 
Three  were  good  silver,  in-  shape  like  ladies  bright 
Everie,  each  of  them  were  gold,  and  like  a  knight 
In  borders  of  their  clothing,  letters  did  appeare, 
Signifying  in  sentence  as  it  sheweth  here : 

Jftrftl  Statue.— "  Of  old  hor  shoes  (said  one)  I  was  yre, 

Now  I  am  good  silver,  as  good  as  ye  desire. 
£f  fOlrtl  £?totU*. — I  was  (said  another)  Iron  ft* t  from  the  mine, 

But  now  I  am  golde,  pure,  perfect,  and  fine. 
Ctyfrto  statue.— Whilome  was  I,  copper  of  an  old  red  panne, 

Now  am  I  good  silver,  said  the  third  woman. 
JfuurHl  £  tattle— The  fourth  said,  I  was  copper,  grown  in  the  filthy  place, 

Now  I  am  perfect  gold,  made  by  God's  grace. 


041 

^iftft  ^taluf. — The  fifth  said,  I  was  silver,  perfect,  thorough  fine, 

Now  am  1  \>v i it ct  gold,  excellent,  better  than  the  prime. 
*tltf)  JMatllC- — I  was  »  P»P°  of  lead  well  nigh  too  hundred  yerc, 
And  to  all  men  good  silver,  I  appeare. 
£f  bOlty  statu*. — The  seventy,  I  lead,  am  gold  made  for  a  mastery, 

But  truly  my  fellowes  are  nearer  thereto  than  I.*' 
I  shall  conclude  this  article  by  another  extract  from  <Bffcer.  "  If  they 
say/'  exclaims  he, "  philosophers  and  princes  of  this  world  have  desired  this 
science,  and  could  not  find  it,  we  answer,  ttpg  lie.  For  princes,  though  few, 
and  especially  the  ancient  and  wise  men  in  our  time,  ha?e,  as  is  manifest,  by 
their  industry  found  out  this  science,  but  would  never  by  word  or  writing 
discover  the  same  to  such  men  because  they  are  unworthy  of  it.  Therefore 
they  not  seeing  any  to  possess  this  science,  conceive  an  error  in  their  minds, 
and  thence  judge  that  none  have  found  it.  But  if  they  otherwise  argue  that 
species  is  not  changed  into  specie*,  we  again  say  tf)rj?  lit ;  as  they  are  more 
accustomed  than  to  speak  truly  of  these  things  ;  for  species  is  changed 
into  species  in  this  manner  :  namely,  when  the  individual  of  one  species  is 
changed  into  the  individual  of  another. 

We  see  a  norm  both  naturally  and  by  natural  artifice  to  be  burned  into  ajly, 
which  differs  from  its  species,  and  a  calf  strangled,  to  be  turned  into  bees, 
wheat  into  darnel,  and  a  dog  strangled  into  norms  ;   by  the  putrefaction  of 

ebullition.    Yet  toe  too  not  tfjts,  but  Nature,  to  tofjom  toe  atnmiu&trr,  fcotf)  tfje 

Mine.  Likewise  also,  nr  alter  not  mctols,  tttt  XatUTf,  for  whom  according 
to  art  we  prepare  that  matter;  for  she  by  herself  acts,  not  toe;  yet  we  are 
her  administrators,  etc. 


$t)t  (Ktlt&tial  IJlamspfKrr, 

AND    ADVANCE    OF    SIDERIAL    SCIENCE 

Raphael  has  received  a  great  number  of  letters  from  his  Country  Torres 
pondents,  enquiring  respecting  the  Planisphere  made  use  of  in  calculating 
Nativities.  He  has  now  ll  e  satisfaction  to  publicly  announce,  that 
Mr.  OXLEY,  an  ingenious  Mathematician,  and  Brother  Student  in  the  art, 
has  published  a  COMPLETE  SET  OF  PLANISPHERES,  which  together 
with  a  Book  of  Explanations,  may  be  bad  of  any  Bookseller.  In  addition  to 
this,  Students  will  be  glad  to  learn  that  an  Elementary  Treatise  upon 
Astrology  is  preparing,  by  Mr.  D.  Parkes,  of  Sheffield,  whose  corres- 
pondence appears  at  page  400  of  the  present  work,  which  will  tend  greatly 
to  advance  the  Science. 


4  M 


642 


JKiftttllgttit** 


THE   DUMB   CURED. 

In  the  9th  volume  of  the  Philosophical  Transactions  of  the 
Royal  Society  of  London,  a  curious  case  is  given  by  Archdeacon 
Squire,  of  a  person  who,  after  having  been  dumb  for  years,  re- 
covered the  use  of  his  speech  by  means  of  a  frightful  dream. 
"One  day,  in  the  year  1748,  he  got  very  much  in  liquor,  so  miuli 
so,  that  on  his  return  home  at  night  to  the  devizes,  he  fell  from 
his  horse  three  or  four  times,  and  was  at  last  t::ken  up  by  a  neigh- 
bour,  and  put  to  bed  in  a  house  on  the  road.  He  soon  fell  asleep; 
when,  dreaming  that  he  was  falling  into  a  furnace  of  boiling  wort, 
it  put  him  into  so  great  an  agony  of  fright,  that  struggling  with 
all  his  might  to  call  out  for  help,  he  actually  did  call  out  aloud, 
and  recovered  the  use  of  his  tongue  that  moment  as  effectually  as 
he  ever  had  it  in  his  life,  without  the  least  hoarseness  or  alteration 
in  the  old  sound  of  his  voice." — MorrelVs  Philosophy  of  Sleep. 

PROPHETIC   DISCOVERY. 

Some  boys  at  play  in  a  field  near  Wincheap,  known  by  the  name 
of  the  Green  Field,  the  real  name  ot  which  is  the  Martyr  Field, 
from  the  numerous  burnings  and  torturings  which  took  place  in  the 
reign  of  Mary,  there  discovered,  near  Buck's  Oast,  close  to  the  hole 
in  which  torment  of  every  description  used  to  be  inflicted,  an  earthen 
vase,  glazed  inside,  and  in  excellent  preservation.  Two  ancient 
coins  were  deposited  within,  a  ring,  and  a  curious  sort  of  dirk,  the 
haft  of  which  is  studded  with  silver.  But  these  are  not  all  the 
curious  contents  contained  in  this  ancient  vessel.  A  piece  of  parch- 
ment rolled  tight,  bearing  the  following  singular  inscription,  was 

found  at  the  bottom : — 

44  1550,  Jaauarie  12.— [A  by  Iter  frostr.J 
44  Profesye. 
"  In  ye  yeare  1881  theyre  shalle  be  might  ye  trobles.  Ye  contrye  shaJle 
be  on  ye  brynke  of  destructione,  but  theyre  shall  aryse  menne  abound- 
inge  in  virtew  and  talente  wo  shalle  restor  it  to  healthe  and  soumlenesse  and 
causae  the  peple  to  ly  ve  in  prospcrytye.  Ye  power  turned  agayost  ye  peple 
shalle  be  yeelded  to  its  ryteful  owners." 

The  vase  and  contents  remain  for  the  inspection  of  the  curioos 
at  the  cottage  near  the  Oast. — Kentish  Chronicle,  June,  1831. 


GEOMANCY. 


'1 1113    SENTENCE 


iFortuna  AIniot 


fttinor 


JUDGE. 


()U 


o  o 

o  O 

c   o 

O  0 

oo                oo                            00                oo 

o  o                  o                                0                 o  o 

O    O                          O                                              n                         O   0 

o  o                                        °       o  o 

o  o                                                 o  o 

o                                                           o  . 

o                                                      o 

Questions.             Answers. 

Questions.             Answers. 

Life    .... 

Long. 

Life   .... 

Long. 

Money  .    •    . 

Fortunate. 

Money  .   .   . 

Excellent. 

Honour     .    . 

Good.          ! 

i 

Honour     .   • 

Great. 

Business    .    . 

Favourable.    '< 

Business   .    •   !        Lucky. 

I 

I  Marriage  .    . 

i 

Lucky. 

i 
Marriage  .    .   I     Fortunate. 

i 

Pregnancy    . 

Hazardous. 

Pregnancy    .   i      Doubtful. 

i   Sickness   .    . 

Health.        ! 

Sickness   .   . 

Health. 

Imprisonment 

Deliverance.    1 

l 

Imprisonment 

Come  out. 

Journey    .    . 

1 

i 

Slow.           | 

i 

Journey    .    .   j         Good. 

• 

'                      I 
Thin*;  lost    .    i        Found.         1                      j  Thins  lost    .             Found 

«            1            !         il          __i 

CO                    c                                       o                c  o 

c  c                   o                                     o               o  o 

CO                  o   c                                   oo             oo 

CO                      CO                                          CO                oo 

c                                                         o 

o                                                         o 

o  o                                                  o  o 

o  o                                                  o  o 

Questions.             Answers. 

Questions.             Answers. 

Life    .... 

Long. 

Life 

i 

Long.        ; 

i 

Money  .    .    ■ 

Good. 

Money  .   .    . 

Good.        | 

j  Honour     .    • 

Good. 

Honour     .   . 

Excellent.     1 

)  Business    .    • 

Good. 

Business   .   . 

Evit. 

Marriage  .    . 

Evit. 

Marriage  .    . 

Ill  luck. 

i   Pregnancy    . 

Female. 

Pregnancy   . 

A  maid. 

Sickness    .    . 

Health. 

Sickness  .    . 

Quick  health. 

i 

Imprisonment 

Soon  out. 

Imprisonment 

Deliverance. 

Journey    «    . 

Mean. 

Journey    .    . 

Mean. 

Thing  lost    . 

Part  found. 

k 

Thing  lost    . 

Wot  found,    j 

G4f> 


w                             O 

o  o               o  c 

o  o                 o 

o  o                 o 
o  o 

o  o 

o 

© 

Questions.            Answers. 

©                           © 
O  O                   o  O 
O                        ©    O 

°       oo     °° 
©  © 

o 
© 

Questions.            Answers. 

Life    .... 

Indifferent. 

i 
Life    .... 

Moderate. 

Money  •    •   • 

Fortunate* 

Money  .    .    . 

Lucky. 

Honour     •    . 

Favourable. 

Honour     .   . 

Good, 

Business    .   . 

Excellent. 

Business    .   . 

Good. 

Marriage  .   . 

For  Innate. 

Marriage  •    • 

Fortunate, 

Pregnancy    . 

A  son. 

Pregnancy  . 

A  son. 

1  Sickness    .   . 

»                              ^ 

Health. 

Sickness   .   • 

Health. 

!  Imprisonment 

C\  me  out. 

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662 


ASTROLOGICAL    CORRESPONDENCE. 


TO   THE   EDITOR   OF   THE    FAMILIAR   ASTROLOGER. 

Sin, 

The  resolution  of  a  question  by  Horary  Astro- 
logy, is  often  suspended  upon  that  peculiar  relation 
existing  among  three  Planets,  technically  termed 
"  ^Translation  Of  fttgftt*"  The  immediate 
separation  from,  and  application  to,  an  aspect,  by 
one  and  the  same  Planet,  is  a  medium  connexion 
that  has  universally  acquired  the  distinction  and 
title  of  "Translation  of  Light" — the  intervening 
orb  being  supposed  to  translate  the  light  and  virtue 
of  the  Planet  with  which  it  is  connected,  by  a 
separating  ray,  to  that  which  it  is  approaching,  by 
a  friendly  or  malign  aspect.  Venerable  as  this 
doctrine  appears  from  its  age — yet,  as  antiquity 
cannot  surely  claim  undiscriminating  homage,  blind 
acquiescence  in  all  the  dogmas  to  which  she  is 
superstitiously  attached,  I  cannot  discover  its  truth, 
and  beg  her  Highnesses  pardon,  for  my  presump- 
tion in  questioning  one  of  her  precepts,  and  sub- 
mitting it  to  the  ordeal  of  reason.  It  is  an  adage, 
that  "example  is  better  than  precept,"  and  in 
obedience  to  this,  and  to  that  law  implied  in  the 
title  of  your  excellent  miscellany,  I  will,  for  the 
benefit  of  the  common  reader,  make  the  subject 
familiar  by  illustration.      Suppose  $  to  have  sepa- 


«33 

rated  by  four  degrees  from  the  square  of  & ,  and  to  be 
within  two  degrees  of  the  sextile  of  it,  well ;  here, 
say  the  ancients,  is  a  translation  of  light — here  $ 
translates  the  light  and  virtue  of  £  to  %.  But,  sir, 
I  affirm  that  she  does  not.  So  then,  the  ancients 
and  I  join  issue.  Venus  is  in  square  to  $,  and  I 
admit  that  she  is  thereby  afflicted ;  and  further,  not 
only  that  the  influence  of  c?  extends  beyond  the 
degrees  of  her  sextile  with  %,  but  also  that  this 
relation  is  decidedly  fortunate.  What  is  the  in- 
ference?  why  this,  that  she  is  both  afflicted  and 
blessed ;  and  which  will  prevail,  the  evil  or  the 
good,  is  a  decision  dependent  upon  the  superior 
strength  of  %  and  c?.  What!  sir,  that  because  the 
benevolent  aspect  of  %,  is  in  some  degree  counter- 
acted by  the  evil  aspect  of  <J,  that  because  thereby 
the  power  of  Jupiter's  aspect  is  debilitated,  does  it 
folio wr,  that  he  is  impregnated  with  the  evil  nature 
of  <?,  and  that  this  evil  nature  is  communicated  to 
him  by  9  ?  And  is  not  this  the  absurd  conclusion 
comprehended  in  the  doctrine  of  "Translation  of 
Light?"  It  must  be  remembered  too,  that  s  is 
taking  her  leave  of  <?,  that  she  is  departing,  and 
that,  consequently,  the  unfriendly  influence  exerted 
by  that  Planet,  is  declining. 

Nor,  sir,  is  it,  as  some  of  your  readers  may  per- 
haps  imagine,  unimportant  to  understand  this,  and 
every  other  principle  of  Astrology,  philosophi- 
cally and  clearly.  For,  how  is  it  possible,  prac- 
tically to  apply  any  scientific  principles,  correctly 
and  successfully,  which  are  not  correctly  and  justly 
understood?  How  is  it  possible  to  deduce  just 
argument  from  erroneous  data?  As  in  every  natural 
and  philosophical   j-cience,   so   in  Astrology,   one 


654 

principle  mode  of  reasoning  that  is  demanded,  is 
analogy.  What  then  is  the  analogical  argument  to 
be  drawn  from  the  aspect  of  ?  ab.  d  S  ad.  -X-  %  ? 
Suppose  the  query,  "  Shall  I  obtain  the  money  due 
to  me  ?"  Suppose  further,  that  %  be  the  sovereign 
of  the  ascendant,  that  3  be  the  lord  of  the  second 
house,  and  that  no  applying  aspect  connects  %  and 
£ .  Now  this  is  the  argument — as  ?  is  fast  pro- 
gressing towards  a  gracious  relation  with  %,  and 
leaving  the  evil  aspect  of  &  ;  as  she  is  the  interme- 
diate Planet,  so  she  is  the  representative  of  some 
intermediate  person,  who,  as  the  application  of  ?  is 
decidedly  propitious,  will  perform  for  the  querent 
some  good  office,  and  who,  as  the  separation  of  % 
is  from  an  evil  aspect,  will  experience  some  diffi- 
culty in  the  performance  of  this  good  office,  the 
species  of  which  is  denoted  by  &  ruling  the  money- 
house.  But,  sir,  let  the  Astrological  reader  argue 
from  the  affliction  of  % ,  by  the  translation  to,  and 
consequent  impression  upon  him,  of  the  evil  nature 
of  &  by  $ ,  and  he  is  perplexed  in  the  labyrinth ;  to 
egress  from  which,  he  will  find  it  absolutely  necessary 
to  follow  the  thread  of  the  reasoning  stated  above. 
Poor  lady !  she  is  afflicted,  and,  forsooth,  afflicting 
%  !  Her  sextile  is  good,  but  it  is  also  bad ! — bad, 
because  it  is  made  while  she  is  in  square  to  that  evil 
fellow  t  !  She  is  taken  captive  by  two  fellows  on 
either  side  of  her ;  one  of  whom  treats  her  roughly, 
but  to  the  other  she  seems  to  be  applying  for  assist- 
ance. But  then,  foolish  woman,  she  should  not 
strengthen  the  hands  of  her  enemy,  by  rendering 
her  friends  of  less  effectual  power  to  help  heir :  but 
what,  to  use  the  language  of  nobility,  can  she  do  in 
such  an  emergency? 


655 


• 

The  opinion  is  entertained  by  some  writers,  that 
the  Sun  is  a  sort  of  Hermit — a  kind  of  misanthro- 
pist, having  a  predilection  for  retirement,  and  an 
antipathy  to  society  to  that  degree,  which  brings 
into   active   operation  his   malignant   propensities, 
whenever  any  of  his  offspring  dares  to  approach 
within  the  circle  of  his  influence.      His  unsociabi- 
lity must,  I  think,  be  traced  to  the  imagination  of 
Astrologers,  who  considering  him,  and  for  this  con- 
sideration I  acquit  them  from  all  blame,  possessed 
of  supreme  power  and  splendour  in  the  solar  system; 
associate  this  possession  with  the  cardinal  defects, 
supreme  pride  and  unbounded   contempt  for  the 
almost    iii'-omparably    puny,    and    immensely   less 
gifted  attendants  upon  him,  and  ministers  of  him, 
who,   in  whatever  glory  they  are  decked,  derive  it 
from  him.     I  :;Ilude,  sir,  tv>  the  doctrine  of  iffOltt- 
dU$ttOU!  that  generally  ill-understood,  and  con- 
sequently,  perverted  doctrine — ill  understood  and 
perverted  it  must  be,  if  the  errors  upon  this  subject, 
transmitted   from   writer  to  writer,   be   implicitly 
followed  as  leading  to  truth.      In  your  excellent 
"  MANUAL,"  a  work  which  I  beg  to  recommend 
to  the  attentive,  and  most  serious  perusal,  of  those 
who  wish  to  furnish  themselves  with  the  real,  the 
pure  principles  of  Astrology,  divested  of  the  dross 
of  antiquity,  and  the  errors  of  superstition — you 
controvert  the  doctrine,  and  oppose  it  by  experience 
"  Some  writers  imagine,  that  Planets  near  the  Sun, 
are  rendered  thereby  weak  and  unfortunate;  this 


656 

is,  as  far  as  the  author's  experience  leads  him  to 
judge,  by  no  means  the  case,  unless  other  causes 
should  give  testimony  thereto  :  indeed,  it  is  quite 
evident,  that  many  Planets  within  60  zodiacal 
degrees  of  the  Sun,  are  typical  of  an  eminent 
name." — Manual  of  Astrology,/?.  80. 

Now,  sir,  what  is  combustion  ?  It  is  the  situation  of 
a  Planet  within  8  degrees  of  the  Sun :  it  is  therefore 
the  absorption  of  the  light  of  the  Planet,  by  the  im- 
mensely superior  effulgence  of  the  luminary.  It 
is,  in  few  plain  words,  the  Sun's  outshining  a  Planet 
that  is  in  conjunction  with  him.  But  it  is  affirmed, 
that  the  Sun  in  such  cases  afflicts.  I  should  be 
glad  to  know  how?  Unfortunately  for  the  sup- 
porters of  this  allegation,  they  have  nothing  to 
substitute  for  argument,  but  the  mere  ipse  dixit  of 
this  author  and  that.  Some  reader  here  gives  a 
significant  shake  of  the  head,  and  though  alarmed 
for  the  fate  of  authority,  he  is  obliged  to  retreat 
before  innovation,  strongly  defended  with  the 
weapons  of  argument,  and  accoutred  in  the  armour 
of  truth,  and  driven  to  seek  an  asylum  in  some  bole 
or  corner  of  superstition.  I  affirm,  sir,  that  the 
Sun  cannot  by  nature,  and  therefore,  cannot  by  his 
conjunction  afflict.  Though  the  Sun  is  not  a  posi- 
tive, it  is  a  negative  fortune ;  that  is,  it  does  not 
of  itself— it  does  not  abstractedly  afflict.  Be- 
cause, in  itself,  it  has  neither  any  positively  good, 
nor  any  positively  bad  quality ;  therefore  it  has  now 
to  impart,  and  is  therefore  negatively  fortunate.  The 
good  or  evil  of  the  Sun  is,  then,  like  that  of  the 
Moon  and  Mercury,  derivative.  Why?  Because 
these  three,  if  unconnected  with  the  rest  of  the 
heavenly  orbs,  or  with  themselves,  by  aspect,  are 


657 

good  or  evil  only  from  their  position  in  the  celes- 
tial horoscope — this  good  or  evil  not  being  in  them- 
selves, but  derived  to  them  from  the  heavenly 
house ;  for,  the  reader  must  know,  that  the  houses 
are  in  their  nature  good  or  e\if.  If,  sir,  they  be 
connected  by  aspect,  the  good  or  evil  therefrom, 
emanates  from  the  species  of  aspect,  and  from  the 
nature  of  the  Planet,  good  or  bad.  They  are  there- 
fore good  or  evil,  as  the  recipients  of  the  nature  of 
the  Stars  they  behold,  in  addition  to  the  good  or 
evil  derived  from  house  and  aspect.  Tne  Sun, 
then,  as  well  as  the  Moon  and  Mercury,  is  a  power- 
fal  recipient  of  the  virtue  and  influence  of  the 
Planets,  with  which  it  is  tied  in  the  bonds  of  celes- 
tial configuration. 

In  agreement  with  these  principles,  the  conjunc- 
tion of  %  or  %  with  the  Sun,  is  a  union  remarkably 
happy,  and  replete  with  eminent  portents — a  strictly 
friendly  union,  based  upon  affections,  and  the  cor- 
dial interchange  of  benevolent  oftites — a  union  of 
nature,  of  virtue,  and  influence.  Ajjlicted!  no; 
neither  ?,  nor  i;,  nor  any  other  star,  ir,  s,  or  \\, 
can  be  afflicted  by  being  in  the  immediate  presence 
of  the  sovereign.  How  can  either  %  or  9,  for 
instance,  be  deteriorated  bv  the  Sun?  For  its 
nature  does  not,  by  its  close  association,  undergo 
any  change.  True,  its  light  is  obscured.  But,  sir, 
the  virtue,  or  the  influence,  or  what  appellation 
soever  may  be  attached  to  it,  which  makes  one  Star 
a  fortune,  and  another  an  infortune,  does  not,  I  ap- 
prehend, consist  in  light ;  if  it  does,  the  Sun  and 
Moon  ought  to  be  fortunes;  „ decidedly,  and  incon- 
ceivably greater  fortunes  than  $  and  %.  So  then, 
the  contact  of  the  Sun  with  a  Planet  is  not  injuri- 

4  o 


658 

ous  to  that  Planet ;  and  in  a  Nativity,  the  6  0  * 
or  ? ,  is  an  argument,  an  incontestible  argument, 
of  exceedingly  good  fortune. 

Doubtless,  the  inquiry  will  be  started,  that  though 
a  Planet  accompaniad  by  the  Sun  is  riot  substan- 
tially prejudiced,  yet,  is  not  the  obscuration  of  its 
light,  an  affliction?  Put,  sir,  the  question,  in 
other  words,  Is  not  the  splendour  of  the  "  king  of 
day"  an  evil,  if  it  absorbs  that  of  a  Planet  ?  Is  not 
inferior  light  preferable  to  immensely  superior? 
And  the  absurdity  of  the  question  is  as  palpable  as 
the  light  of  the  diurnal  luminary.  But  ?  and  u, 
united  to  the  Sun,  are  more  fortunate,  though  their 
glory  is  infinitely  surpassed  by  his,  than  if  they 
were  disunited,  or  than  if  they  bore  some  other 
friendly  relation  to  him.  The  Sun  has  stamped 
upon  him  their  image,  for  they  have  transferred 
their  virtue  and  power,  and  their  effects  are  dis- 
played by  the  Sun  in  a  most  splendid,  and  in  a  day- 
light manner.  Operating  by  themselves,  their  re- 
sults would  have  been  comparatively  private,  and 
confined  within  a  narrow  sphere  :  operating  through 
the  medium  of  the  Sun,  they  work  publicly  and 
eminently ;  their  glory  shines  forth  tn  his ;  they 
elevate  the  native,  bring  him  out  to  public  view, 
and  secure  power  and  imperishable  fame.  Need  I 
attach  a  proviso?  Well,  then,  it  is  this:  that  I  have 
considered  the  6  ©  %  or  $ ,  in  the  abstract. 

The  obscuration  of  the  light  of  a  Planet,  in 
conjunction  with  the  Sun,  has  also  in  jQQV&V$ 
&0tfOlO0{?  an  analogical  import.  The  mode  of 
reasoning  is  this  :  as  when  a  Planet  is  in  6  with 
©,  his  glory  is  lost ;  he  is  not  seen  as  though  he 
were  not ;   so  the  person  or  thing,  signified  by  itf 


659 

is  obscured,  is  dead,  or  it  is  secret.  Again,  if  0 
signified  the  querent,  and  ?  some  honourable  office, 
then,  supposing  ?  ad.  6  ©,  as  ?  is  going  towards 
the  Sun,  so  the  office  is  progressing  towards  the 
querent.  But  suppose  ?  ruled  the  ascendant,  and 
©  the  second  house,  then  as  ?  is  hidden  in  the 
surpassing  splendour  of  ©,  so  the  querent  would 
be  greatly  reduced  in  pecuniary  circumstances. 
I  remain,  your  constant  Reader, 

Isaac  Sugden. 
Bradford,  Yorkshire, 
Feb.  16th,  1831. 


As  I  have  no  doubt  my  readers  will  feel  particu- 
larly interested,  in  every  thing  at  all  connected  with 
the  fate  of  the  persons  whose  Horoscopes  are  given 
in  this  work,  I  beg  leave  to  point  out  to  their  notice, 
a  work  published  by  Mr.  Bennett,  entitled,"  The 
Red  Barn;"  which,  written  by  a  masterly  hand, 
details  every  particular  connected  with  Corder,  the 
murderer,  whose  Horoscope  is 'given  in  this  work. 
Vide  page  223  of  The  Familiar  Astrologer. 


FATAL    HOROSCOPES, 


7Y.r  r>V///i\;'y  o/*  a.diild  who  teas  liurni  lo  Dadlt. 


TO  Tlir.   EDITOR  OF  THE  FAMIMAR  ASTRUhOG  HR. 

SIR, 

T!*  .*  a')ove  figure  I  erected  far  a  child,  which,  as  Clerk  of  the  Parish.  I 
baptized  and  buried.  Thinking  it  would  be  of  some  service,  to  see  "whether 
the  dr?adful  accident  agreed  with  the  rules  of  the  Science,  which,  according 
to  my  weak  judgment,  1  th'nk  it  does  in  a  very  remarkable  manner.  It  is 
singular,  that  the  night  previous  to  the  accident,  I  saw  in  a  dream  the  house 
in  a  complete  flame  of  fire  :  now,  what  can  we  say  to  those  persons  who  make 
a  laugh  at  dreams,  as  well  as  at  Astrology  ?  but  I  know,  by  sad  experience, 
there  is  truth  in  both,  and  no  man  shall  persuade  me  to  the  contrary.  The 
dream  and  the  occurrence  is  a  fact  which  can  be  proved  on  oath. 

I  remain,  your  constant  reader, 

Earnshair.  Suffolk.  E.  Ciiastos. 


r 


661 


According  to  the  Earl  of  Essex's  Manuscript, 


^t+*^K'^ 'Susy ._  • .. 


In  one  part  of  the  Manuscript  from  which  the 
Royal  Book  of  Fate  was  compiled,  the  method  of 
u  foretelling  by  the  cogitayciones  of  the  nyghte,"  or, 
in  other  words,  the  Interpretations  of  Dreams  by 
Geotnancy,  is  set  forth ;  from  which  the  following 
Oracle  is  extracted. 

In  using  this  Oracle,  the  reader  will  observe, 
that  it  is  the  figure  in  the  9th  house  of  the  scheme, 
from  whence  the  judgment  is  derived.  Therefore, 
when  any  Dream  is  resolved,  let  the  Student  cast 
the  figure  of  Gebmancy,  and  look  to  the  emblem 
which  is  in  the  9th  house,  and  the  following  pages 


602 


will  give  the  interpretation.  In  this  manner  of 
judgment,  neither  the  judge  nor  the  witnesses  are 
deemed  of  any  power,  to  alter  or  nullify  the  figure 
in  the  9th.  The  reasons  for  this  mode  of  judgment 
are  given  at  full  length  in  the  Manuscript,  but  are 
useless  here  to  recapitulate. 


Oracle  1. 
When  0% 

o  o 

is  in  the  9th 
house. 


Oracle  2. 
When  V 

o 

is  in  the  9th 
house. 


Oracle  3. 


When 


c  o 

o  o 

o  o 

o  o 


is  in  the  9th 
house. 


Oracle  4. 


When 


o 
o 
o 
o 


is  in  the  9th 
house. 


o 

o 

o  o 
o  o 


o  o 

This  is  a  sign  of  money,  friends,  and 
merry  fortune. 


o  o 
o  o 

o 


The  vision  is  right  fortunate ;  but  in 
gold,  silver,  and  goods,  it  is  best.  It 
predicts  also,  joy  in  some  unexpected 
gift,  or  a  friend. 


o  o 

o  o 

o  o 

o  o 


The  dream  tells  chiefly  of  news. 
The  absent  will  return :  the  signs  also 
read  moderately  in  good  and  lucky 
fortune;  and  oft-times  the  dreamer 
dwells  (on  voyages)  near  waters. 


o 

o 


» 

The  interpretation  of  the  dream  k 
chiefly  of  some  impending  misfortune, 
hard  to  be  eschewed ;  and  it  speak 
also  of  private  enemies,  perchance 
also  of  a  rival. 


663 


Oracle  5. 

o  o 

When    % 

o  d 

is  in  the  9th 
house. 


Oracle  6. 
When   %o 

o  o 

is  in  the  9th 
house. 


Oracle  7. 
When   {% 

o 

is  in  the  9th 
house. 


Oracle  8. 
When  °/0 

o  o 

is  in  the  9th 
house. 


Oracle  9. 


When 


o 
o  o 
o  o 

O   9 


is  in  the  9th 
house. 


o  o 

o 

o 

o  o 


Read  this,  to  speak  of  dealings  in 
papers,  charts,  books,  and  writings, 
and  moreover  of  singular  or  divers 
employments. 


o  o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 


Interpret  this  to  be  a  fortunate 
sign ;  the  dreamer  will  have  his  cogi- 
tations granted;  but  oft-times  he 
buries  a  friend. 


o 

o  c 
c  o 


Take  care  an  enemy  does  not  in- 
jure thee.  Perchance  something  may 
happen  wherein  a  prison  is  uppermost. 
The  sign  tells  ^lso  of  some  cause  of  a 
sorrowful  kind. 


o  o 

o 
o  o 
o  o 


This  dream  is  a  sign  of  anger,  tu- 
mults, ill-blood,  and  deceitful  advisers 
Be  on  thy  guard— evil  is  at  hand. 


o 
o  o 
o  o 
o  o 


This  is  a  right  merry  and  pleasant 
dream :    it  tells  of  carousals,  jovial 
meetings,  friends,  and  banquets ;  and 
I  of  good  news  at  hand. 


601 


Oracle  10. 
When  1  I 

O    O 

O 

is  in  the  9th 
house.  ' 


Oracle  11. 

©  o 

When  0°0 

o 

is  in  the  9th 
house. 


Oracle  12. 
When  V 

o  o 

is  in  the  9th 
house. 


Oracle  13. 

o  o 

When    g 

o 

is  in  the  9th 
house. 


Oracle  14. 


When 


o 

o 

o 

o  e 


is  in  the  9th 
house. 


P  o 
o  o 
o  o 


Oft-times  when  the  dreamer  casts 
up  this  sign,  he  is  unlucky,  liable  to 
sorrow,  prone  to  some  restraint,  and 
some  friend  may  die. 


o  o 

o 
o  o 

o 


The  dream  is  felicitous :  invitations 
and  various  signs  of  pressnts  or  gifts 
follow.  The  dreamer  is  assuredly 
about  to  change  his  present  estate  to 


advantage. 


o 
o  o 

o 
o  o 


The  dreamer  may  well  look  out  for 
some  deceitful  person  near  his  habit- 
ation. And  this  may  also,  perchance, 
forebode  a  loss. 


o  o 

o 


The  dream  is  foretold  to  be  pros- 
perous and  lucky ;  fortune  has  some 
advantage  in  store  for  him  who  asks, 
and  there  will  be  a  journey  follow. 


o 

o 

o 

o  o 


Either  this  vision  has  no  meaning, 
or  it  forewarns  too  truly  of  mii-adven- 
tures. 


VOo 


Oracle  15. 
When  °0° 

e 

is  in  the  9th 
house. 


Oracle  16. 
When  e% 

O 

is  in  the  9th 
house. 


o  o 
o 
o 


Tliis  is  usually  a  sign  of  wedlock  to 
the  single,  and  of  offspring  to  the 
already  united  in  matrimony.  And 
moreover  it  is  various  ways  propitious 
enough. 


o 

c 

o  o 

o 


Usually  this  forebodes  angry  and 
vehement  words,  quarrells  and  irk- 
some passages  in  the  dreamer's  life 
and  fortunes. 


Many  similar  Oracles  to  the  above,  are  to  be  found  in  the  Earl  of  Essex's 
MSS.,  which  will  be  inserted  in  the  New  Series  of  The  Astrologer  of  the  Wth 
Century,  which  the  author  is  preparing  for  the  Press. 


•  v 


A    SINGULAR    PROPHECY. 


The  following  curious  Prophecy  of  the  lfith  cen« 
tury,  is  worthy  notice  at  this  eventful  period. 


In  the  latter  age, 
Cruel  Battles  will  rage  : 
The  Star  of  the  North, 
Will  in  anger  come  forth. 
A  goodly  Kinsr, 
Will  Justice  brin*. 
The  Lion  of  War, 
Will  roar  from  afar. 

Then  mark  well  the  Signs, 

In  the  Sun  and  and  the  Moon  ; 

By  them  shalt  thou  tell 

Of  England's  doom  1 


Liovrnvs. 


4p 


666 


THE    ASTROLOGER. 


No.  11. 


Nativity  of  Mr.  RICHARD    DOLBEN, 

Student  in  Astrology. 


PLANETS'  DECLINATION. 


0  21  57  S. 
J>     9  50  N. 
F?   10  35  N. 
It   10  40  N. 


g  23  47  S. 
$  23  10S. 
S  24  14  S. 
y     2     9S. 


607 


TO  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  FAMILIAR  ASTROLOGER. 

Beverley y  Jan.  12<A,  1831. 
Dear  Sir, 

In  a  former  letter,  which  I  sent  to  you  some  time 
ago,  I  requested  you  to  be  so  kind  as  to  send  me 
my  Nativity,  for  January  10, 1802.  Since  that  time 
I  have  had  access  to  an  Ephemeris,  and  have  set 
down  as  on  the  1st  page ;  and  if  you  think  that  the 
insertion  of  it  in  your  Familiar  Astrologer  will 
be  of  any  benefit  to  Science,  you  are  at  liberty 
so  to  do. 

Since  I  have  come  to  reside  at  Beverley,  as  a 
Schoolmaster,  I  have  invariably  advocated  the  truth 
of  Astrology,  and  through  me  the  Science  has  been 
brought  into  notice,  and  your  Prophetic  Messenger 
has  had  a  good  sale  here,  and  also  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. I  am  very  well  known  in  many  parts  of  the 
East  Riding,  and  am,  what  is  generally  called,  a 
public  character,  although  not  on  account  of 
Astrology  solely,  but  on  account  of  the  public 
situations  which  I  hold,  and  the  general  knowledge 
which  1  possess  of  Natural  Philosophy. 

1  am,  Sir, 

Your  obedient  servant, x 

Richard  Dolben. 

The  author,  wishing  to  give  as  much  publicity 
as  possible  to  the  Science  and  its  votaries,  has,  for 
that  purpose,  inserted  the  foregoing  Horoscope, 
which  bears  the  undoubted  marks  of  genius. 


6«  fa 


8t$*  JBbtl   #$#♦ 

Among  the  qualities  attributed  to  the  eye  in  some 
persons,   and  once  universally  credited,  was  the 
power  of  working  evil  and  enchantment  by  its 
glances.     The  operation  of  the  "  fbli  t J£in  (once 
so  denominated,)  upon  mankind,  as  being  a  pretty 
general  belief  in  past  times,  has  been  recorded  by 
many  writers.     Bacon  says  that  its  effects  have, 
according  to  some  historians,  been  so  powerful  as  to 
affect  the  mind  of  the  individual  upon  whom  they 
fell ;   that  even  after  "  triumphs,  the  triumphant*' 
have  been  made  sick  in  spirit  by  the  evil  eyes  of 
lookers  on.     In  most  modern  European  nations,  in 
their  earlier  ages,  the  fear  of  the  fascination  of  chil- 
dren by  an  "evil  eye,"  made  nurses  very  careful 
how  they  permitted  strangers  to  look  upon  thera. 
In  Spain  it  was  called  mal  de  ojos,  and  any  one  who 
was  suspected  of  having  an  "  evil  eye,"  while  re- 
garding a  child,  was  forced  to  say,  while  observing 
the  infant,  "  God  bless  it."    This  notion,  however, 
is  far  more  ancient  than  the  name  of  England.    The 
Greeks  and  Romans  gave  credit  to  it,  when  they 
were  in  their  high  career  of  glory.     We  find,  in 
many  ancient  writers,  allusions  to  the  malicious  in- 
fluence of  what  they  call  the  "vicious"  or  "evil 
eye."    Theocritus,  Horace,  Persius,  Juvenal,  and 
others,  allude  to  it  in  a  way  not  to  be  mistaken  in 
its  alliance  with   the   later  superstition.     I  have 
never  heard  what  charms  were  used  by  our  fore* 
fathers  or  the  ancients  against  the  influence  of  the 
"  evil  eye-— M 


C(i.9 

Vervain  and  dill 

Hinder  witches  from  their  will— 

was,   we  know,   a    sovereign  receipt  against  the 
daughters  of  the  I^ady  of  Endor.     Lilly  has  the 
following  charm  to  obviate  the  effect  of  an  "  evil 
tongue,"  which,  for  curiosity  sake,  I  will  mention. 
"  Take  unguentem  populeum,  vervain ,  and  hypericon, 
and  put  a  red  hot  iron  into  it.     Anoint  the  back- 
bone, or  wear  it  oji  the  breast."     Notwithstanding 
this  sovereign  mode  of  guarding  against  an  "  evil 
tongue,"  the  evil  eye  seems  to  have  been  as  much 
proof  against  the  wisdom  of  our  forefathers  as  against 
our  own.     It  would  therefore,  in  the  language  of 
the  olden  time,  be  an  "insult  to  Providence,"  if, 
after  the  experience  of  our  ancestors  in  such  matters, 
We  presumed  to  attempt  the  discovery  of  an  efficient 
antidote. 

In  our  times  the  "  evil  eye"  still  survives,  though 
its  operation  may  not  be  so  much  a  matter  of  general 
attention  as  formerly.     It  works  still,  in  a  manner 
equally  as  injurious  as  when  the  "  irradiations  of 
the  visual  orb  were  supposed  to  be  solely  confined 
to  the  subtle  operations  of  magic.     The  "evil  eye," 
in  modern  days,  is  observed  to  be  not  less  dangerous 
in  its  consequences  to  its  possessor,  than  to  those 
whom  it  fixes  upon  as  victims  of  its  malignity.     He 
smarts  in  heart-consuming  anguish  while  he  regards 
the  happiness  of  a  neighbour,  the  success  of  an  ac- 
quaintance in  an  honourable  calling,  or  the  hard 
struggle  and  merited  reward  of  literary  assiduity. 
No  rank  of  life  is  beyond  the  glance  of  the  "  evil 
eye  ;"*  no  talent  mailed  against  its  deadly  malignity, 
no    robe  of  innocence  so  pure  as  to  conceal  the 
wearer  from  its  blighting  observation.    The  sensi- 


670 

bilities  of  genius,  with  whatever  art  or  science  they 
may  be  linked,  are  too  often  scorched  by  its  fetal 
gaze.  It  blanches  the  cheek  of  beauty,  dries  up 
the  springs  of  charity,  extinguishes  the  noblest 
ardours,  withers  the  fairest  blossoms  of  the  soul, 
and  almost  renders  indifferent  the  glorious  triumphs 
of  virtuous  age,  by  blasting  the  honours  due  to  its 
protracted  perseverance  in  goodness.  The  subjects 
of  Vathek,  in  the  terrible  hall  of  Eblis,  had  a  heart 
of  self- wasting  fire,  which  was  disclosed  on  putting 
aside  the  vest.  The  man  with  the  "  evil  eye"  ex- 
hibits the  burning  heart  through  the  organ  of  vision. 
His  glances  explain  what  is  passing  within,  as  well 
as  if  the  ribs  and  pericardium  were  pellucid  crystal, 
01  the  transparent  summer  atmosphere. 

The  "  man  with  the  evil  eye"  always  looks  ob- 
liquely at  society.  His  tongue  may  be  silvery 
smooth,  tipped  with  velvet,  dropping  honey,  like 
Nestor's,  though  blackness  be  beneath.  He  cannot 
conceal  the  glances  that  shoot  insiduously  towards 
the  objects  of  his  hatred — glances,  that,  were  they 
rays  of  a  pestilence  (as  he  would  they  were,)  must 
make  perish  all  against  whom  they  are  directed. 
No  glance  from  the  basilisk  could  be  more  fatal  in 
reality  than  his  glance,  had .  he  his  wish.  To  pro- 
voke the  latent  vengeance  of  the  "evil  eye,"  it  is 
a  sufficient  offence  to  be  fortunate :  success  is  a 
brand  on  the  forehead  of  another  in  its  sight.  The 
specious  Iago  of  the  "evil  eye"  may  have  four 
senses  of  the  five  such  as  the  best  might  select  for 
themselves;  but  with  him,  these  only  administei  to 
the  sovereign  lord  of  vision,  and  exist  subordinate 
to  the  "aspect  malign."  The  man  of  the  "evil 
eye"  finds  his  heart  ignite  with  tenfold  violence  when 


67  J 

excellence  of  any  kind  meets  due  reward.     Who 
bnt  the  man  of  the   "evil  eye"    has,  in   his  own 
opinion,  a  right  to  be  fortunate  in  industry  ? — who 
but  he  has  a  lawful  claim  to  the  suffrages  of  society 
and  the  crown  of  reward  ?    The  bonds  of  friendship 
are  melted  before  him  ;  human  sympathies  dried 
into  dust ;  envy  and  selfishness  furnish  fuel  to  the 
heart,  and  malignant  flames  rush  from  the  "  evil 
eye"  with  terrible  intensity.    Lord  of  the  ascendant, 
the  €t  evil  eye"  makes  reason  its  vassal,  and  never 
allows    the   claims   of  self  or   self-interest   to   be 
balanced  against  common  sense  or  obligation.     Is 
the  object  regarded  an  artist?  lie  may  be  a  far  su- 
perior one  to  him  of  the    "  evil  eye ;"    is  he  an 
orator  ?   he  may  far  excel  him';  or,  is  he  an  author, 
possessing  genius  and  learning,  and  patronized  by 
the  public  ?  it  matters  not :  the  baser  passions  have 
put  down  reason,  and  drowned  even  a  fool's  degree 
of  reflection.     The  "evil  eve"  can  see  nothing  but 
what  is  tinged  with  its  own  green  hue,  and  no  longer 
discriminates  colour  or  form.     The  result  is  a  con- 
sequence mathematically  correct — true  to  the  very 
point :   envy  and  hatred  become  the  guiding  star  of 
the  soul.     Does  he  pester  society  with  his  diatribes  ? 
— he  mingles  in  them,  to  second  the  desires  of  his 
heart,  the  venom  of  the  snake,  with  the  stratagem 
of  the  fox,  and  the  reasoning  of  the  ostrich,  which 
hides  its  head  alone  from  the  hunter  and  fancies 
itself  unseen.     He  has  no  sight  but  for  the  objects 
of  his  malice,  and  loses  the  viewr  of  his  own  interest 
m  the  eagerness  of  ocular  vengeance.     Is  the  owner 
of  the   "  evil  eye"  a  trader  ? — he  looks  fatal  things 
to  his   industrious  neighbour's  credit ;  is  the  owner 
a  female? — she  glances  away  her  friend's  virtue. 


072 

Lastly,  the  owner  of  the  <l  evil  eve"  is  an  universal 
enemy,  whom  man  cannot  trust,  time  marks  out  for 
retribution,  and  fiends  alone  can  envy. 

If  society  still  hold  one  man  to  whom  this  alleged 
power,  anciently  attributed  to  the  organ  of  vision, 
remains  in  action,  let  him  be  watched.     The  "evil 
eye"  cannot  be  mistaken :   unsteady  as  the  ocean 
waves,  it  rolls  around  and  about  in  fevered  rest- 
lessness ;  now  extended,  it  exhibits  its  orb  clear  of 
the  lid,  surrounded  by  the  white,  in  angry  convul- 
sion— now  half  closed,  it  questions  with  wariness 
and  shallow  cunning — now  calm  and  dead  as  Lethe, 
it  represses  the  pale  beam  of  its  malice,  and  with 
saintly  bearing,    seems   piety  itself,    the  herald  of 
cordiality,  the  star  of  friendship  and  rectitude.     But 
it  is  all  the  charmed  disguise  of  the  magician,  that 
he  may  make  his  spells  the  surer.    The  "(toll  tQt9 
13  0till  tbt  Mlltf  t   its  Tophetic  beams  are  less 
visible,  only  from   the  hope  that  they  may  more 
effectually  operate  on  the  objects  of  their  malignity. 
May  the  readers  of  the  Familiar  Astrologer  ever 
be  preserved  from  its  hated  influence!     So  prays 
their  friend  and  well- wisher, 

Raphael. 


673 


THE    ASTROLOGER 


No.  12 


Born  the  27M  March,  1821, 

10  minutes  before  1 1 
o'CIock,  A.M. 


SIR, 

t  take  the  liberty  to  fend  you  the  foregoing  Nativity,  for  insertion  in  your 
TtJvable  pages,  as  I  deem  it  Yery  surprising,  and  worthy  your  reader's  notice. 
The  youth  is  born  the  heir  to  grtat  weaUh%  and  be  is  remarkably  quick  in 
iheaf  flee,  go  much  so,  that  I  might  safely  prononnce  him  the  cleverest  child 
In  England.    The  Attrolofieal  reasons  for  which  yon  will  readily  perceive. 

I  remain,  yours,  Ac. 
T.  Ihcb. 
To  ike  Editor  qfthe  Familiar  Astrologer. 

4    Q 


K1W  BOND  STREKT. 


074 


Upon  which  the  Tale  of  Gfvjr  Matmering  was  founded. 


BY  THE  AUTHOB  OF  WAVEKLBT. 


The  following  tale  was  originally  told  by  an  old 
servant  of  my  father's,  an  excellent  old  Highlander, 
without  a  fault,  unless  a  preference  to  mountain- 
dew  oyer  less  potent  liquors  be  accounted  one.    He 
believed  as  firmly  in  the  story  as  in  any  part  of  his 
creed.    A  grave  and  elderly  person,  according  to 
old  John  M acKinlay's  account,  while  travelling  in 
the  wilder  parts  of  Galloway,  was  benighted.    With 
difficulty  he  found  his  way  to  a  country-seat,  where, 
with  the  hospitality  of  the  time  and  country,  he  was 
readily  admitted.     The  owner  of  the  house,  a  gen- 
tleman of  good  fortune,  was  much  struck  by  the 
reverend  appearance  of  his  guest,  and  apologised  to 
him  for  a  certain  degree  of  confusion  which  must 
unavoidably  attend  his  reception,  and  could  not 
escape  his  eye.     The  lady  of  the  house  was,  be 
said,  confined  to  her  apartment,  and  on  the  point 
of  making  her  husband  a  father  for  the  first  tine, 
though  they  had  been  ten  years  married.     At  such 
an  emergency,  the  laird  said  he  feared  his  gue»t 
might  meet  with  some  apparent  neglect.     '  Not  so, 
sir/  said  the  stranger,  *  my  wants  are  few,  and  easily 
supplied;   and  I  trust  the  present  circumstance* 
may  even  afford  an  opportunity  of  shewing  my  la- 
titude for  your  hospitality.     Let  me  only  request 
that  I  may  be  informed  of  the  exact  minute  of  Ik 


675 

I 
birth  ;  and  I  hope  to  be  able  to  put  you  in  posses* 

sion  of  some  particulars,  which  may  influence  in  an 
important  manner,  the  future  prospects  of  the  child 
now  about  to  come  into  this  busy  and  changeful 
world.     I  will  not  conceal  from  you  that  J  am  skil- 
ful in  understanding  and  interpreting  the  movements 
of  those  planetary  bodies  which  exert  their  in- 
fluences on  the  destiny  of  mortals.     It  is  a  science 
which  1  do  not  practise  for  reward,  for  I  have  a 
competent  estate,  and  only  use  the  knowledge  I 
possess  for  the  benefit  of  those  in  whom  I  feel  an 
interest.'    The  laird  bowed  in  respect  and  gratitude, 
and  the  stranger  was  accommodated  with  an  apart- 
ment which  commanded  an  ample  view  of  the  astral 
regions.    The  guest  spent  a  part  of  the  night  in 
ascertaining  the  position  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 
and  calculating  their  probable  influence ;   until  at 
length  the  result  of  his  observations  induced  him  to 
send  for  the  father,  and  conjure  him  in  the  most 
solemn  manner  to  cause  the  assistants  to  retard  the 
birth,  if  practicable,  were  it  but  for  five  minutes. 
The  answer  declared  this  to  be  impossible;   and 
almost  in  the  instant  that  the  message  was  re- 
turned, the  father  and  his   guest  were  made  ac- 
quainted with  the  birth  of  a  boy.     The  'astrologer 
on  the  morrow  met  the  party,  who  gathered  around 
the  breakfast-table  with  looks  so  grave  and  ominous, 
as  to  alarm  the  fears  of  the  father,  who  had  hitherto 
exulted  in  the  prospects  held  out  by  the  birth  of  an 
heir  to  his  ancient  property,  failing  which-  event  it 
must  have  passed  to  a  distinct  branch  of  the  family. 
He  hastened  to  draw  the  stranger  into  a  private 
room.     '  I  fear  from  your  looks,'  said  the  father, 
'  that  you  have  bad  tidings  to  tell  me  of  my  young 


676 

stranger ;  perhaps  God  will  resume  the  blessing  he 
has  bestowed  ere  he  attains  the  age  of  manhood,  or 
perhaps  he  is  destined  to  be  unworthy  of  the  affec- 
tion which  we  are  naturally  disposed  to  devote  to 
our  offspring.'     *  Neither  the  one  nor  the  other/ 
answered  the  stranger ;  *  unless  my  judgment  greatly 
err,  the  infant  will  survive  the  years  of  minority,  and 
in  temper  and  disposition  will  prove  all  that  his 
parents  can  wish.    But  with  much  in  his  horoscope 
which  promises  many  blessings,  there  is  one  evil 
influence  strongly  predominant,  which  threatens  to 
subject  him  to  an  unhallowed  and  unhappy  tempt- 
ation about  the  time  when  he  shall  attain  the  age 
of  twenty-one,  which  period,  the  constellations  in- 
timate, will  be  the  crisis  of  his  fete.    In  what  shape, 
or  with  what  peculiar  urgency,  this  temptation  may 
beset  him,  my  art  cannot  discover.'      *  Your  know- 
ledge, then,  can  afford  us  no  defence,'  said  the  anx- 
ious father,  '  against  the  threatened  evil  V    4  Pardon 
me,'  answered  the  stranger,  'it  can.     The  inftuenct 
of  the  constellations  is  powerful :  but  He  who  made 
the  heavens  is  more  powerful  than  all,  if  his  aid  be 
invoked  in  sincerity  and  truth.     You  ought  to  dedi- 
cate this  boy  to  the  immediate  service  of  his  Maker, 
with  as  much  sincerity  as  Samuel  was  deivoted  to 
the  worship  in  the  Temple  by  his  parents.     You 
must  regard  him  as  a  being  separated  from  the  rest 
of  the  world.     In  childhood,  in  boyhood,  you  must 
surround  him  with  the  pious  and  virtuous,  and  pro- 
tect him  to  the  utmost  of  your  power  from  the 
sight  or  hearing  of  any  crime,  in  word  or  action. 
He  must  be  educated  in  religious  and  moral  prin 
ciples  of  the  strictest  description.      Let  him  not 
enter  the  world,  lest  he  learn  to  partake  of  its  follies 


677 

or  perhaps  of  its  vices.  In  short,  preserve  him  as 
far  as  possible  from  all  sin,  save  that  of  which  too 
great  a  portion  belongs  to  all  the  fallen  race  of 
Adam.  With  the  approach  of  his  twenty- first  birth- 
day, comes  the  crisis  of  his  fate.  If  he  survive  it, 
be  will  be  happy  and  prosperous  on  earth,  and  a 
chosen  vessel  among  those  elected  for  heaven.  But 
if  it  be  otherwise'  The  astrologer  stopped  and 
sighed  deeply.  '  Sir/  replied  the  parent,  still  more 
alarmed  than  before,  *  your  words  are  so  kind,  your 
advice  so  serious,  that  1  will  pay  the  deepest  atten- 
tion to  your  behests;  but  can  you  not  aid  me  farther 
in  this  most  important  concern.  Believe  me,  1  will 
n*t  be  ungrateful.'  '  I  require  and  deserve  no  gra- 
titude for  doing  a  good  action,'  said  the  stranger; 
*  in  especial  for  contributing  all  that  lies  in  my 
power  to  save  from  an  abhorred  fate  the  harmless 
infant  to  whom,  under  a  singular  conjunction  of 
planets,  last  night  gave  life.  There  is  my  address; 
you  may  write  to  me  from  time  to  time  concerning 
the  progress  of  the  boy  in  religious  knowledge.  If 
he  be  bred  up  as  I  advise,  I  think  it  will  be  best 
that  he  come  to  my  house  at  the  time  when  the  fetal 
and  decisive  period  approaches,  that  is,  before  he 
has  attained  his  twenty-first  year  complete.  If  you 
send  him  such  as  I  desire,  I  humbly  trust  that  God 

• 

will  protect  his  own,  througbwhatever  strong  tempt- 
ation his  fate  may  subject  him  to.'  He  then  gate  his 
host  his  address,  which, was  a  country-seat  near  a 
postttown  in  the  south  of  England,  and  bid  him  an 
affectionate  farewell.  The  mysterious  stranger  de- 
parted; but  his  words  remained  impressed  upon 
the  mind  of  the  anxious  parent.  He  lost  his  lady 
while  his  boy  was  still  in  infancy     This  calamity,  I 


678 

think,  had  been  predicted  by  the  astrologer;  and  thus 
his  confidence,  which,  like  most  people  of  the  period, 
he  had  freely  given  to  the  science,  was  riveted  and 
confirmed.     The  utmost  care,  therefore,  was  taken 
to  carry  into  effect  the  severe  and  almost  ascetic 
plan  of  education  which  the  sage  had  enjoined.    A 
tutor  of  the  strictest  principles  was  employed  to 
superintend  the  youth's   education ;    he  was  sur- 
rounded  by   domestics   of    the    most    established 
character,  and  closely  watched  and  looked  after  by 
the  anxious  father  himself.     The  years  of  infancy, 
childhood,  and  boyhood,  passed  as  the  father  could 
have  wished.     A  young  Nazarene  could  not  have 
been  bred  up  with  more  rigour.      All  that  was  evil 
was  withheld  from  his  observation— he  only  heard 
what  was  pure  in  precept — he  only  witnessed  what 
was  worthy  in  practice.     But  when  the  boy  began 
to  be  lost  in  the  youth,  the  attentive  father  saw 
cause  for  alarm.     Shades  of  sadness,  which  gradu- 
ally assumed  a  darker  character,  began  to  overcloud 
the  young  man's  temper.      Tears,  which  seemed 
involuntary,  broken  sleep,  moonlight  wanderings, 
and  a  melancholy  for  which  he  could  assign  no 
reason,  seemed  to  threaten  at  once  his  bodily  health 
and  the  stability  of  his  mind.     The  astrologer  was 
consulted  by  letter,  and  returned  for  answer,  that 
this  fitful  state  of  mind  was  but  the  commencement 
of  his  trial,  and  that  the  poor  youth  must  undergo 
more  and  more  desperate  struggles  with  the  evil 
that  assailed  him.     There  was  no  hope  of  remedy, 
save  that  he  shewed  steadiness  of  mind  in  the  study 
of  the   Scriptures.      *  He   suffers,'   continued   the 
letter  of  the  sage,  *  from  the  awakening  of  those 
harpies,  the  passions,  which  have  slept  with  him  as 


670 

with  others,  till  the  period  of  life  which  he  has  now 
attained.  Better,  far  better,  that  they  torment  him 
by  ungrateful  cravings,  than  that  he  should  have  to 
repent  having  satiated  them  by  criminal  indul- 
gence/ The  dispositions  of  the  young  man  were 
so  excellent,  that  he  combated,  by  reason  and  reli- 
gion, the  fits  of  gloom  which  at  times  overcast  his 
mind;  and  it  was  not  till  he  attained  the  com- 
mencement of  his  twenty-first  year,  that  they  as- 
sumed a  character  which  made  his  father  tremble 
for  the  consequences.  It  seemed  as  if  the  gloomiest 
and  most  hideous  of  mental  maladies  was  taking 
the  form  of  religious  despair.  Still  the  youth  was 
gentle,  courteous,  affectionate,  and  submissive  to 
his  father's  will,  and  resisted  with  all  his  power  the 
dark  suggestions  which  were  breathed  into  his 
mind,  as  it  seemed,  by  some  emanation  of  the  Evil 
Principle,  exhorting  him,  like  the  wicked  wife  of 
Job,  to  curse  God  and  die.  The  time  at  length 
arrived  when  he  was  to  perform  what  was  then 
thought  a  long  and  somewhat  perilous  journey,  to 
the  mansion  of  the  early  friend  who  had  calculated 
his  nativity.  His  road  lay  through  several  places 
of  interest,  and  he  enjoyed  the  amusement  of  tra- 
velling more  than  he  himself  thought  would  have 
been  possible.  Thus  he  did  not  reach  the  place  of 
his  destination  till  noon,  on  the  day  preceding  his 
birth-day.  It  seemed  as  if  he  had  been  carried 
away  with  an  unwonted  tide  of  pleasurable  sensa- 
tion, so  as  to  forget,  in  some  degree,  what  his  father 
had  communicated  concerning  the  purpose  of  his 
journey.  He  halted  at  length  before  a  respectable 
but  solitary  old  mansion,  to  which  he  was  directed 
as  the  abode  of  his  father's  friend.     The  servants 


080 

who  came  to  take  his  horse  told  him  he  had  been 
expected  for  two  days.  He  was  led  into  a  study, 
where  the  stranger,  now  a  venerable  old  man,  who 
had  been  his  father's  guest,  met  him  with  a  shade  of 
displeasure  as  well  as  gravity  on  his  brow.  *  Young 
man,9  he  said  '  wherefore  so  sloiv  on  a  journey  of 
such  importance  ?'  'I  thought,'  replied  the  guest: 
blushing  and  looking  downward,  *  that  there  was 
no  harm  in  travelling  slowly  and  satisfying  my 
curiosity,  providing  I  could  reach  your  residence  by 
this  day  ;  for  such  was  my  father's  charge.'  *  You 
were  to  blame,'  replied  the  sage,  'in  lingering,  con- 
sidering that  the  avenger  of  blood  was  pressing  on 
your  footsteps.  But  you  are  come  at  last,  and  we 
will  hope  for  the  best,  though  the  conflict  in  which 
you  are  to  be  engaged  will  be  found  more  dreadful 
the  longer  it  is  postponed.  But  first  accept  of  such 
refreshments  as  nature  requires  to  satisfy,  but  not 
to  pamper,  the  appetite.'  The  old  man  led  the  way 
into  a  summer  parlour,  where  a  frugal  meal  was 
placed  on  the  table.  As  they  sat  down  to  the 
board,  they  were  joined  Uy  a  young  lady  about 
eighteen  years  of  age,  and  so  lovely,  that  the  sight 
of  her  carried  off  the  feelings  of  the  young  stranger 
from  the  peculiarity  and  mystery  of  his  own  lot, 
and  riveted  his  attention  to  every  thing  she  did  or 
said.  She  spoke  little,  and  it  was  on  the  most 
serious  subjects.  She  played  on  the  harpsichord 
at  her  father's  command,  but  it  was  hymns  with 
which  she  accompanied  the  instrument.  At  length, 
on  a  sign  from  the  sage,  she  left  the  room,  turning 
on  the  young  stranger,  as  she  departed,  a  look  of 
inexpressible  anxiety  and  interest.  The  old  man 
then  conducted  the  youth  to  his  study,  and  con- 


081 

versed  with  him  upon  the  most  important  points  of, 
religion,  to  satisfy  himself  that  he  could  render  a 
reason  for  the  faith  that  was  m  him.  During  the 
examination,  the  youth,  in  spite  of  himself,  felt  his 
mind  occasionally  wander,  and  his  recollections  go 
in  quest  of  the  beautiful  vision  who  had  shared 
their  meal  at  noon.  On  such  occasions,  the  astro- 
loger looked  grave,  and  shook  his  head  at  this  re- 
laxation of  attention ;  yet,  on  the  whole,  he  was 
pleased  with  the  youth's  replies.  At  sunset  the 
young  man  was  made  to  take  the  bath ;  and,  having 
done  so,  he  was  directed  to  attire  himself  in  a  robe, 
somewhat  like  that  worn  by  Armenians,  having  his 
long  hair  combed  down  on  his  shoulders,  and  his 
neck,  hands,  and  feet  bare.  In  this  guise  he  was 
conducted  into  a  remote  chamber  totally  devoid  of 
furniture,  excepting  a  lamp,  a  chair,  and  a  table,  on 
which  lay  a  Bible.  *  Here,'  said  the  astrologer,  '  1 
must  leave  you  alone,  to  pass  tlie  most  critical  period 
of  your  life.  If  you  can,  by  recollection  of  the  great 
truths  of  which  we  have  spoken,  repel  the  attacks 
which  will  be  made  on  your  courage  and  your  prin- 
ciples, you  have  nothing  to  apprehend.  But  the 
trial  will  be  severe  and  arduous/  His  features  then 
assumed  a  pathetic  solemnity,  the  tears  stood  in  his 
eyes,  and  his  voice  faltered  with  emotion  as  he  said, 
*  Dear  child,  at  whose  coming  into  the  world  1  fore- 
saw this  fatal  trial,  may  God  give  thee  grace  to 
support  it  with  firmness  T  The  young  man  was 
left  alone ;  and  hardly  did  he  find  himself  so,  when, 
like  a  swarm  of  demons,  the  recollection  of  all  his 
sins  of  omission  and  commission,  rendered  even 
more  terrible  by  the  scrupulousness  with  which  he 
had  been  educated,  rushed  on  his  mind,  and,  like 

4  it 


682 

furies  armed  with  fiery  scourges,  seemed  determined 
to  drive  him  to  despair.  As  he  combated  these 
horrible  recollections  with  distracted  feelings,  but 
with  a  resolved  mind,  he  became  aware  that  his 
arguments  were  answered  by  the  sophistry  of  ano- 
ther, and  that  the  dispute  was  no  longer  confined 
to  his  own  thoughts.  The  Author  of  Evil  was 
present  in  the  room  with  him  in  bodily  shape,  and, 
potent  with  spirits  of  a  melancholy  cast,  was  im- 
pressing upon  him  the  desperation  of  his  state,  and 
urging  suicide  as  the  readiest  mode  to  put  an  end 
to  his  sinful  career.  Amid  his  errors,  the  pleasure 
he  had  taken  in  prolonging  his  journey  unnecessa- 
rily, and  the  attention  which  he  had  bestowed  on 
the  beauty  of  the  fair  female,  when  his  thoughts 
ought  to  have  been  dedicated  to  the  religious  dis- 
course of  her  father,  were  set  before  him  in  the 
darkest  colours ;  and  he  was  treated  as  one  who, 
having  sinned  against  light,  was,  therefore,  de- 
servedly left  a  prey  to  the  Prince  of  Darkness.  As 
the  fated  and  influential  hour  rolled  on,  the  terrors 
of  the  hateful  Presence  grew  more  confounding  to 
the  mortal  senses  of  the  victim,  and  the  knot  of 
the  accursed  sophistry  became  more  inextricable  in 
appearance,  at  least  to  the  prey  whom  its  meshes 
surrounded.  He  had  not  power  to  explain  the  as- 
surance of  pardon  which  he  continued  to  assert,  or 
to  name  the  victorious  name  in  which  he  trusted. 
But  his  faith  did  not  abandon  him,  though  he 
lacked  for  a  time  the  power  of  expressing  it.  '  Say 
what  you  will,'  was  his  answer  to  the  Tempter;  'I 
know  there  is  as  much  betwixt  the  two  boards  o( 
this  Book  as  can  insure  rne  forgiveness  for  my  trans- 
gressions, and  safety  for  my  soul.'     As  he  spoke, 


683 

the  clock,  which  announced  the  lapse  of  the  fatal 
hour,  was  heard  to  strike.  The  speech  and  intel- 
lectual powers  of  the  youth  were  instantly  and 
fully  restored ;  he  burst  forth  into  prayer,  and  ex- 
pressed in  the  most  glowing  terms,  his  reliance  on 
the  truth,  and  on  the  Author  of  the  gospel.  The 
demon  retired,  yelling  and  discomfited;  and  the 
old  man,  entering  the  apartment,  with  tears  con- 
gratulated his  guest  on  his  victory  in  the  fated 
struggle.  The  young  man  was  afterwards  married 
to  the  beautiful  maiden,  the  first  sight  of  whom  had 
made  such  an  impression  on  him,  and  they  were 
consigned  over  at  the  close  of  the  story  to  domestic 
happiness. 

%•  Those  of  ray  readers  who  are  not  In  the  possession  of  the  New  Edition 
of  the  admirable  Ww erley  No? els,  will  read  this  celebrated  legend  with 
great  pleasure. 


ittfttatt  atitf&eratt  an*  magic* 


It  will  be  seen  from  the  following  extract,  that 
Lawson,  the  author  of  the  History , of  North  Caro- 
lina, believed  in  witchcraft  and  magic.  Alluding 
to  an  Indian  doctor,  he  says-** 

"  Some  affirm  that  there  is  a  smell  of  brimstone 
in  the  cabins  when  they  are  conjuring,  which  I  can- 
not contradict.  Which  way  it  may  come  I  will  not 
argue,  but  proceed  to  a  relation  or  two,  which  I 
have  from  a  great  many  persons,  and  some  of  them 
worthy  of  credit* 


fi84 


"  It  was  three  days  before  he  (the  doctor)  could 
arrive,  and  he  appeared  (when  he  came)  to  be  a 
very  little  man,  and  so  old  that  his  hair  was  as 
white  as  ever  was  seen.  When  he  approached  the 
sick  King,  he  ordered  a  bowl  of  water  to  be  brought 
him,  and  three  chunks  of  wood,  which  was  imme- 
diately done.  Then  he  took  the  water,  and  set  it 
by  him,  and  spirted  a  little  on  him,  and  with  the 
three  pieces  of  wood  he  made  a  place  to  stand  on, 
whereby  he  was  raised  higher,  (he  being  a  verj 
low-statured  man) ;  he  then  took  a  string  of  Ron- 
oak,  which  is  the  same  as  a  string  of  small  beads; 
this  he  held  by  one  end,  between  his  fingers ;  the 
other  end  touched  the  King's  stomach,  as  he  stood 
on  the  logs*  Then  he  began  to  talk,  and  at  length  the 
bystanders  thought  really  that  they  heard  somebody 
talk  to  him,  but  saw  no  more  than  what  first  came 
in.  At  last,  this  string  of  beads,  which  hung  thus 
perpendicular,  turned  up  as  an  eel  would  do,  and 
without  any  motion  of  his,  they  came  all  up  (in  a 
lump)  under  his  hand,  and  hung  so  for  a  consider- 
able time,  he  never  closing  his  hand,  and  at  length 
returned  to  their  pristine  length  and  shape,  at 
which  the  spectators  were  much  frightened.  Then 
he  told  the  company,  that  he  would  recover,  and 
that  his  distemper  would  remove  into  his  leg ;  all 
which  happened  to  be  exactly  as  the  Indian  doctor 
had  told.  These  are  matters  of  fact,  and  I  can,  U> 
this  day,  prove  the  truth  thereof  by  several  sub- 
stantial evidences,  that  are  men  of  reputation,  there 
•being  more  than  a  dozen  people  present  when  this 
was  performed,  most  of  whom  are  now  alive. 

"  After  the  bargain  was  concluded,  the  Indian 


085 

went  into  the  woods,  and  brought  in  both  herbs 
and  roots,  of  which  he  made  a  decoction,  and  gave 
it  the  man  to  drink,  and  had  him  go  to  bed,  saying, 
it  should  not  be  long  before  he  came  again,  which 
the  patient  performed  as  he  was  ordered ;  and  the 
potion  he  had  administered  made  him  sweat  after 
the  most  violent  manner  that  could  be,  whereby  he 
smelled  very  offensively,  both  to  himself  and  they 
that  were  about  him ;  but  in  the  evening,  towards 
night,  Jack  came  with  a  great  rattle-snake  in  his 
hand  alive,  which  frightened  the  people  almost  out 
of  their  senses,  and  he  told  his  patient  that  he  must 
take  that  to  bed  with  him ;  at  which  the  man  was 
in  great  consternation,  and  told  the  Indian  he  was 
resolved  to  let  no  snake  come  into  his  bed,  for  he 
might  as  well  die  of  the  distemper  he  had,  as  be 
killed  with  the  bite  of  that  serpent.  To  which  the 
Indian  replied,  he  could  not  bite  him  now,  nor  do 
him  any  harm,  for  he  had  taken  out  his  poison  teeth, 
and  shewed  him  that  they  were  gone.  At  last  with 
much  persuasion,  he  admitted  the  snake's  company, 
which  the  Indian  put  about  his  middle,  and  ordered 
nobody  to  take  him  away  upon  any  account,  which 
was  strictly  observed,  although  the  snake  girded 
him  as  hard  for  a  great  while,  as  if  Jie  had  been 
drawn  in  by  a  belt,  which  one  pulled  at  with  all  his 
strength.  At  last  the  snake's  twitches  grew  weaker 
and  weaker,  till  by  degrees  he  felt  him  not ;  and 
opening  the  bed,  he  was  found  dead,  and  the  man 
thought  himself  better.  The  Indian  came  in  the 
morning,  and  seeing  the  snake  dead,  told  the  man 
that  his  distemper  was  dead  along  with  that  snake, 
which  proved  as  he  said ;  for  the  man  speedily  re 
covered  his  health,  and  became  perfectly  well." 


THE    ASTROLOGER. 


No.  13. 


$t)t  Xatibttg  of  a  Mnxtftvtv 


MMM 


687 


to  the  editor  of  the  familiar  astrologer. 

Sir, 

1  send  you  the  Nativity  of  James  Taylor,  a 
native  of  Bath,  who  was  hung  for  shooting  a  Coach- 
man, merely  in  a  dispute  over  a  game  of  cards.    He 
deliberately  walked  up  stairs,  brought  down  a  brace 
of  loaded  pistols,  shot  one  person  dead,  and  with  the 
other  weapon  fired  at  another  person  who  was  pre- 
sent.   The  ball  glanced  from  the  edge  of  a  door, 
and  thus  his  life  was  saved.    The  Horoscope  was 
sent  me  by  Mr.  Borrinsal,  a  gentleman  at  Bath,  a 
student  in  Astrology,  exactly  at  before  recited. 
He  was  executed  at  Taunton,  April  10th,  1800. 
Yon  will  observe,  the  Sun  is  in  qtuxrtik  and  parallel 
to  Saturn,  and  in  mundane  square  to  Mars,  and  Caput 
Algol  in  the  ascendant.    I  have  only  altered  the 
time  given  me  one  minute,  therefore  the  ascendant 
becomes  Hyleg,  and  consequently,  Saturn  to  the 
wad-heaven  will  prove  the  fatal  arc  ;  which  answers 
exactly  to  the  period  of  his  execution  I  This  being 
a  circumstance  so  notorious,  will  perhaps  be  worthy 
your  acceptance. 

1  remain,  your  constant  reader, 

G   Smith. 
~Tigh  Street,  Cheltenham* 


«88 


What  mere  assertion  will  make  any  man  believe  that 
in  one  second  of  time,  in  one  beat  of  the  pendulum 
of  a  clock,  a  ray  of  light  travels  over  192,000  miles, 
and  would  therefore  perform  the  tour  of  the  world 
in  about  the  same  time  that  it  requires  to  wink  with 
our  eyelids,  and  in  much  less  than  a  swift  runner 
occupies  in  taking  a  single  stride?  What  mortal 
can  be  made  to  believe,  without  demonstration, 
that  the  Sun  is  almost  a  million  times  larger  than 
the  Earth  ?  and  that,  although  so  remote  from  us,  a 
cannon  ball  shot  directly  towards  it,  and  maintain- 
ing its  full  speed,  would  be  twenty  years  in  reach- 
ing it,  it  yet  affects  the  Earth  by  its  attraction  in  an 
inappreciable  instant  of  time  ?  Who  would  not 
ask  for  demonstration,  when  told  that  a  gnats 
wing,  in  its  ordinary  flight,  beats  many  hundred 
times  in  a  second?  or  that  there  exist  animated 
and  regularly  organized  beings,  many  thousands  ot 
whose  bodies  laid  close  together  would  not  extend  an 
inch  ?  But  what  are  these  to  the  astonishing  truths 
which  modern  optical  inquiries  have  disclosed, 
which  teach  us  that  every  point  of  a  medium  through 
which  a  ray  of  light  passes,  is  affected  with  a  sue- 
cession  of  periodical  movements,  regularly  recur- 
ring at  equal  intervals,  no  less  than  five  hundred 
millions  of  millions  of  times  in  a  single  second ! 
that  it  is  by  such  movements,  communicated  to  the 
nerves  of  our  eyes,  that  we  see — nay  more,  that  it 
is  the  difference  in  the  frequency  of  their  recurrence 
which  affects  us  with  the  sense  of  the  diversity  of 
colour ;  that,  for  instance,  in  acquiring  the  sensa- 


689 

tion  of  redness,  oar  eyes  ate  affected  438  miHibot 
of  millions  of  times ;  of  yellowness,  542  millions  of 
millions  of  times  ;  and  of  violet,  707  millions  of 
millions  ot  times  per  second.  Do  not  such  things 
sound  mote  like  the  ravings  of  madmen,  than  the 
sober  conclusions  of  people  in  their  waking  senses! 
They  are,  nevertheless,  conclusions  to  which  any 
one  may  most  certainly  arrive,  who  will  only  be  at 
the  trouble  of  examining  the  chain  of  reasoning  by 
which  they  have  been  obtained. 


BY  A  VETERAN. 

"  1  spent  all  (save  the  dawning)  of  a  long  day  of 
hard  service,  far  from  the  din  of  European  strife, 
under  the  scorching  skies  of  the  East.  Even  amidst 
the  forests  of  Nepaul,  the  name  of  Buonaparte 
sounded  like  a  spell.  While  his  ambition  was  com 
deraned,  his  genius  was  admired,  his  misfortunes 
deplored ;  often  have  I  wished  to  encounter  him 
face  to  face ;  the  closest  approach,  however,  that 
fortune  enabled  me  to  make  to  him,  was  a  pilgrim- 
age to  bis  tomb.  When  at  St.  Helena,  1  Mailed 
one  morning,  with  a  small  party  of  brother  officers, 
to  survey  the  spot  where  the  remains  of  the  world's 
agitator  are  deposited.  The  peculiarities  of  the 
locality  have  been  laid  before  the  public  so  often, 

4  s 


690 

and  so  amply,  on  canvass  and  on  paper,  that  further 
description  is  needless.  The  character  of  the  scene 
is  profound  and  awful  loneliness — a  dell  girt  mby 
huge  naked  hills — not  an  object  of  vegetable  life  to 
relieve  the  general  aspect  of  desertedness,  except 
the  few  weeping  willows  which  droop  above  the 
grave.  The  feeling  of  solitude  is  heightened  by  an 
echo,  that  responds  on  the  least  elevation  of  the 
voice.  With  what  singular  emotions  I  took  my 
stand  upon  the  slab,  which  sheltered  the  dust  of 
him  for  whom  the  crowns,  thrones,  and  sceptres, 
he  wrung  from  their  possessors,  would  of  them- 
selves have  furnished  materials  for  a  monument! 
There  the  restless  was  at  rest ;  there  the  Emperor 
of  the  French,  King  of  Italy,  Protector  of  the  Con- 
federation of  the  Rhine,  Grand  Master  of  the 
Legion  of  Honour,  reposed  with  almost  as  little 
sepulchral  pomp,  as  the  humble  tenant  of  a  country 
church-yard. 

'  After  life's  fitful  fever  he  sleeps  well/ 

I  withdrew  my  foot— removed  with  my  handker- 
chief the  traces  it  had  left  upon  the  stone,  and  gave 
a  tear  to  the  fate  of  the  exile.  1  also  was  a  soldier 
of  fortune— our  party  quitted  the  place  with  de- 
jected faces,  and  scarcely  a  word  was  spoken  until 
we  reached  our  quarters. 

"  On  the  following  morning  a  French  frigate 
arrived  from  the  Isle  of  Bourbon,  having  on  board 
a  regiment  of  artillery.  The  officers  solicited  and 
obtained  permission  to  pay  a  tribute  of  respect  to 
their  old  leader's  ashes.  I  accompanied  them  to  the 
ground,  and  rarely  have  I  witnessed  enthusiasm 
like  theirs.     On  the  way  not  an  eye  was  dry,  and 


G»l 


some  who  had  served  immediately  under  '  the 
Emperor/  wept  aloud.  As  they  dre^f. nearer  to 
the  spot,  their  step  bee  ante 'in  tried  ahridS  (regular, 
but  the  moment  they  saw  the  tomb,  they  formed 
two  deep,  and  advanced  with  uncovered  heads, 
folded  arms,  and  slow  and  pensive  pace.  When 
within  five  or  six  yards  of  their  destination,  they 
broke  off  into  single  files,  and  surrounding  the 
grave,  at  uniform  intervals  knelt  silently  down. 
The  commander  of  the  frigate,  and  the  others  in 
succession,  according  to  their  rank,  then  kissed  the 
slab ;  when  they  arose  every  lip  was  fixed,  every 
bosom  full.  In  a  few  days  subsequently,  the 
officers  of  both  countries  met  at  Soliman's  table, 
and  after  dinner  the  first  toast  proposed  by  the 
French  Commander  was,  '  The  King  of  England—* 
three  times  three/  I  really  thought  that  the  c  hip 
— hip — hurra  F  of  our  ancient  enemies  would  never 
have  an  epd.  An  English  gentleman  returned 
thanks,  and  proposed,  '  The  memory  pf  that  Great 
Warrior,  Napoleon  Buonaparte.'  The  pledge  went 
solemnly  round,  each  wearing,  in  honour  of  the 
mighty  dead,  a  sprig  of  his  guardian  willow.  The 
evening  was  spent  in  concord,  many  patriotic  toasts 
were  reciprocated,  many  good  things  were  skid, 
and  the  blunt  sincerity  of  military  friendship  pre* 
sided  over  our  parting." 


!      • 


G!>2 


THE  ASTROLOGER. 


No.  13. 


Cfte  Xatibity  of  one  to&o  mttt  a  &ttift*n 

Erattn 


093 
to  the  editor  of  the  familiar  astrologer. 

Sib, 

1  send  you  another  remarkable  example.    It  is 

the  Horoscope  of  a  Mr.  Tovey,  of  Cheltenham, 

with  whom  I  was  acquainted.     I  obtained  the  time 

of  birth  from  his  mother.     He  died  at  the  age  of  26 

years  and  6  months,  quite  suddenly — on  returning 

from  a  party  of  midnight  revellers,  he  fell  down  and 

instantly  expired.     The  Moon  is  Hyleg,  who  we 

find  is  receding  from  the  Sun;   but  is  under  his 

beams,  which  of  itself,  I  presume,  indicates  short 

life.    The  fatal  arc,  I  take  to  be  the  parallel  of 

Mars,  which  she  met  in  21°  4&  of  «i.     I  have  not 

altered  the  time  a  single  minute,  but  have  given  it 

to  you  as  a  scheme  you  may  rely  upon.    The  death 

also  was  violent ,  according  to  <?'s  nature,  and  in 

the  8th  house.    And  here  1  wish  the  benefit  of  your 

experience — parallels  are  said  to  be.  in  every  re«> 

spect,    the   same  as  the  conjunction  in  effects. 

Should  you  consider  the  0  and  D ,  in  a  parallel  of 

declination,  as  an  indication  of  short  life,  equal 

with  the  <S  ?   on  this,  your  answer  will  oblige  your 

correspondent, 

G.  Smith. 

%*  In  reply  to  our  ingenious  correspondent's 
query,  Hiave  to  state,  that  the  mere  parallel  of  the 
luminaries,  would  by  no  means  destroy  life  from 
the  position;'  but  in  directions,  the  zodiacal  I  parak 
lete  'tore  very  powerftil.  In  Ave  ptesent  xase,  our 
Hig&ious  correspondent  seems  to  have  ;ove»ldciked 
the  iact,  that  the  Modn  met  the  zodiacal  sesquiqua* 
drate  of  Mars,  in  the  exact  degree  of  the  parallel, 
whi£b  gave  it  an  additional  strength. 


694 


die  iUurtlr  jpf  g&Mt** 


THE    LEGENDARY    STORY    OF    THOMAS    PERKS. 


Authentic  Copy  of  a  Letter  sent  to  the  Bishop  of 
Gloucester,  by  the  Reverend  Mr.  Arthur  Bedford, 
Minister  of  Temple  Church,  in  Bristol. 

Bristol,  August  2,  1703- 
My  Lord, 

Being  informed  by  Mr.  Shute  of  your  Lordship's 
desire  that  I  should  communicate  to  you  what  I  had 
known  concerning  a  certain  person,  who  was  ac- 
quainted with  spirits  to  his  own  destruction,  I  have 
made  bold  to  give  you  the  trouble  of  this  letter, 
hoping  my  desire  to  gratify  yotir  Lordship  in  every 
particular,  may  be  an  apology  for  the  length  thereof. 
I  had  formerly  given  an  account  to  the  late  Bishop 
of  Hereford,  in  which  there  are  probably  some  things 
contained,  which  I  do  not  now  remember,  which,  if 
your  Lordship  could  procure  from  his  Lady,  (who 
now  lives  near  Gloucester,)  would  be  more  authentic. 

About  thirteen  years  ago,  whilst  I  was  curate  to 
Dr.  Read,  rector  of  St.  Nicholas  in  this  city,  I 
began  to  be  acquainted  with  one  Thomas  Perks,  a 
man  about  twenty  years  of  age,  who  lived  with  his 
father  at  Mongatsfield,  a  gunsmith ;  and  contracted 
kn  intimacy  with  him,  he  being  not  only  a  very 
good-natured  man,  but  extremely  skilled  in  mathe- 
matical studies,  which  were  his  constant  delight,  viz. 
arithmetic,  geometry,  gauging,  surveying,  astronomy, 


t»6 

and  algebra;  he  had  a  notion  of  the  perpetual  motion; 
much  like  that  wheel  in  Archiraedes's  Mathematical 
Magic,  in  which  he  had  made  some  improvements* 
and  which  he  has  held  was  demonstrable  from  ma- 
thematical principles,  though  I  could  never  believe 
it.     I  have  seen  an  iron  wheel,  to  which  he  intended 
to  add  several  things  of  his  own  invention,  in  order 
to  finish  the  same ;  but,  thinking  it  of  no  use,  and 
being  otherwise  unfortunately  engaged,  it  was  never 
perfected.     He  gave  himself  so  much  to  astronomy,' 
that  he  could  not  only  calculate  the  motions  of  the 
planets,  but  an  eclipse  also ;  and  demonstrate  any 
problem  in  spherical  trigonometry  from  mathema- 
tical principles,  in  which  he  discovered  a  clear  force 
of  reason.     When  one  Mr.  Bailey,  minister  of  St. 
James's  in  this  city,  endeavoured  to  set  up  a  maihe* 
matical  school,  I  advised  him  to  this  Thomas  Perks, 
for  an  acquaintance ;  in  whom,  as  he  told  me.  he 
found  a  greater  proficiency  in  those  studies  than  he 
expected  or  could  have  imagined.    After  this,  he 
applied  himself  to  astrology,  and  would  sometimes 
calculate  nativities,  and  resolve  horary' questions. 
When,  by  the  providence  of  God,  I  was  settled  in 
Temple-parish,  and  had  not  seen  him  for  some  time, 
be  came  to  me,  and,  we  being  in  private,  he  asked 
my  opinion  very  seriously  concerning  the  lawfulness 
of  conversing  with  spirits ;  and,  after  I  had  given 
my  thoughts  in  the  negative,  and  confirmed  them 
with  the  best  reasons  1  could,  he  told  me  he  had 
considered  all  these  arguments,  and  believed  they 
only  related  to  conjurations,  but  there  was  an  inno- 
cent society  with  them  which  a  man  might  use,  if 
he  made  no  compacts  with  them,  did  no  harm  by 
their  means,  and  were  not  curious  in  prying  into 


hidden  things ;  and  that  he  himself  had  discoursed 
with  them,  and  heard  them  sing  to  his  great  satis- 
faction ;  and  gave  an  offer  to  me  and  Mr.  Bayley  at 
another  time,  that,  if  we  would  go  with  him  one 
night  to  Kings  wood,  we  should  see  them,  and  hear 
them  both  talk  and  sing,  and  talk  with  them  when- 
ever we  had  a  mind,  and  we  should  return  very 
safe ;  but  neither  of  us  had  the  courage  to  venture. 
I  told  him  the  sub  til  ty  of  the  devil  to  delude  man- 
kind, and  to  transform  himself  into  an  angel  of  light ; 
but  he  would  not  believe  it  was  the  devil.  I  had 
several  conferences  with  him  upon  this  subject, 
but  could  never  convince  him;  in  all  which  1 
could  never  observe  the  least  disorder  of  mind,  his 
discourse  being  very  rational ;  and  I  proposed  (to 
try  him)  a  question  in  astronomy,  relating  to  the 
projection  of  the  sphere,  which  he  projected  and 
resolved,  and  did  afterwards  demonstrate  from  the 
mathematics,  so  as  to  show  at  the  same  time,  that 
his  brain  was  free  from  the  least  tincture  of  madness 
and  distraction,-^Having  this  opportunity  of  asking 
him  several  particulars,  concerning  the  methods  he 
used,  and  the  discourses  he  bad  with  them,  he  told 
me  had  a  book  whose  directions  he  followed,  and 
accordingly,  in  the  dead  time  of  the  night,  he  went 
out  to  a  cross  way,  with  a  lanthorn  and  candle  con* 
secrated  for  this  purpose  with  several  incantations. 
He  had  also  consecrated  chalk,  consisting  of  several 
mixtures,  with  which  he  made  a  circle  at  what  dis- 
tance he  thought  fit,  within  which  no  spirit  had 
power  to  enter.  After  this  he  invoked  the  .spirit 
by  several  forms  of  words,  (some  of  which  he  told 
me  were  taken  out  of  the  holy  Scriptures,  and  there- 
fore he  thought  them  lawful,  without  considering 


6L7 

how  they  might  be  wrested  to  his  destruction;) 
accordingly  the  spirits  appeared  to  him  which  he 
called  for,  in  the  shape  of  little  maidens,  about  a 
foot  and  a  half  high,  and  played  about  a  circle.  At 
first  he  was  somewhat  affrighted ;  but,  after  some 
small  acquaintance,  this  antipathy  in  nature  wore 
pff,  and  he  became  pleased  with  their  company.  He 
told  me  they  spoke  with  a  very  shrill  voice,  like  an 
ancient  woman.  He  asked  them  if  there  was  a 
heaven  or  hell?  they  said  there  was.  He  asked 
them  what  place  heaven  was?  which  they  described 
as  a  place  of  great  glory  and  happiness ;  and  he 
asked  them  what  hell  was  ?  and  they  bade  him  ask 
no  questions  of  that  nature,  for  it  was  a  dreadful 
thing  to  relate,  and  the  devils  believe  and  tremble. 
He  further  asked  them  what  method  or  order  they 
had*  among  themselves  ?  they  told  him  they  were 
divided  into  three  orders ;  that  they  had  a  chief, 
whose  residence  was  in  the  air ;  that  he  had  several 
counsellors  which  were  placed  by  him  in  form  of  a 
globe,  and  he  in  the  centre,  which  was  the  chiefest 
order ;  another  order  was  employed  in  going  to  and 
from  thence  to  the  earth,  to  carry  intelligence  from 
those  lower  spirits ;  and  their  own  order  was  on  the 
earth,  according  to  the  directions  they  should  re- 
ceive from  those  in  the  air. 

This  description  was  very  surprising,  but,  being 
contrary  to  the  account  we  have  in  Scripture  of  the 
hierarchy  of  the  blessed  angels,  made  me  conclude 
they  were  devils,  but  I  could  not  convince  him  of  it. 
He  told  me  he  had  bade  them  sing,  and  they  went 
to  some  distance  behind  a  bush,  from  .whence  he 
could  hear  a  perfect  concert  of  such  exquisite  music 
as  he  never  before  heard ;  and  in  the  upper  part  he 

4  T 


698 

beard  something  very  harsh  and  shrill,  like  a  reed, 
but,  as  it  was  managed,  did  give  a  particular  grace 
to  the  rest. 

About  a  quarter  of  a  year  after,  he  came  again  to 
me,  and  wished  he  had  taken  my  advice,  for  he 
thought  he  had  done  that  which  would  cost  him  his 
life,  and  which  he  did  heartily  repent  of;  and  in- 
deed his  eyes  and  countenance  showed  a  great  al- 
teration. I  asked  him  what  he  had  done.  He  told 
me  that,  being  bewitched  to  his  acquaintance,  he 
resolved  to  proceed  farther  in  this  art,  and  to  have 
some  familiar  spirit  at  his  command,  according  to 
the  directions  of  his  book,  which  were  as  follows : — 
He  was  to  have  a  book  made  of  virgin  parchment, 
consecrated  with  several  incantations;  likewise  a 
particular  ink-horn,  ink,  &c.  for  his  purpose ;  with 
these  he  was  to  go  out  as  usual  to  a  cross  way,  and 
call  up  a  spirit,  and  ask  him  his  name,  which  he  was 
to  put  in  the  first  page  of  his  book,  and  this  was  to 
be  his  familiar.  Thus  he  was  to  do  by  as  many  as 
he  pleased,  writing  their  names  in  distinct  pages, 
only  one  in  a  leaf;  and  then,  whenever  he  took  the 
book  and  opened  it,  the  spirit  whose  name  appeared 
should  appear  also ;  and,  putting  this  in  practice, 
the  familiar  he  had  was  called  Malchi,  a  word  in 
Hebrew  of  an  unknown  signification.  After  this 
they  appeared  faster  than  he  desired,  and  in  most 
dismal  shapes,  like  serpents,  lions,  bears,  &c.  hissing 
at  him,  and  attempting  to  throw  spears  and  balls  of 
fire,  which  did  very  much  affright  him,  and  the 
more  when  he  found  it  not  in  his  power  to  stay 
them,  insomuch  that  his  hair  (as  he  told  me)  stood 
upright,  and  he  expected  every  moment  to  be  torn 
in  pieces ;  this  happened  in  December  about  mid- 


690 

night,  when  he  continued  there  in  a  sweat  till  break 
of  day,  and  then  they  left  him,  and  from  that  time 
he  was  never  well  as  long  as  he  lived.    In  his  sick- 
ness he  came  frequently  to  Bristol*,  to  consult  with 
Mr.  Jacob,  an  apothecary  in  Broad  Street,  concern- 
ing a  cure  ;  but  I  know  not  whether  he  told  him  the 
origin  of  his  sickness  or  not ;  he  also  came  to  me  at 
the  same  time,  and  owned  every  matter  of  fact  until 
the  last,  and  insisted  that,  when  he  did  any  thing 
of  this  nature,  he  was  deluded  in  his  conscience  to 
think  it  lawful,  but  he  was  since  convinced  to  the 
contrary.     He  declared  he  made  no  compacts  with 
any  of  those  spirits,  and  never  did  any  havm  by  their 
means,  nor  ever  pryed  into  the  future  fortune  of 
himself  or  others,  and  expressed  a  hearty  repent* 
ance  and  detestation  of  his  sins ;  so  that  though 
those  methods  cost  him  his  life  in  this  world,  yet  I 
have  great  reason  to  believe  him  happy  in  the  other. 
I  am  not  certain  that  he  gave  this  account  to  any 
other  person  but  myself,  though  he  communicated 
something  of  it  to  Mr.  Bayley,  minister   of  St. 
James's,  in  this  city ;  perhaps  your  lordship  may  be 
further  informed  by  his  relations  and  neighbours  of 
Mango ts field,  which  lies  in   Gloucestershire,  not 
above  a  mile  out  of  the  road  to  Bath. 

I  have  frequently  told  this  story,  but  never  men- 
tioned bis  name  before ;  and  therefore,  if  your  lord- 
ship hath  any  design  of  printing  such  accounts  as 


*  I  have  myself  seen  a  very  canons  Telescope,  and  a  very  in- 
genious Fowling  Piece,  made  by  this  said  Thomas  Perks ;  and  in 
my  last  tour  to  the  West  of  England  (1830)  I  found  numerous  ver- 
sions of  this  particular  account  still  extant  among  the  peasantry 
of  Kingswoois— Raphael. 


700 

these,  I  desire  it  may  be  with  such  tenderness  to  his 
memory  as  he  deserved,  and  so  as  may  not  be  the 
least  prejudice  to  his  relations,  who  have  the  de- 
served character  of  honest  and  sober  people.  I  am 
Your  Lordship's  dutiful 

Son  and  Servant, 

ARTHUR  BEDFORD. 


JULY,  1830. 


1 

"  flux  armW,  aux  armes  /"  the  tocsin  sound— 

What  Frenchmen  will  be  slaves? 

14  Aux  armes !  aux  armes  !"  the  streets  resound, 

44  Our  hearths  shall  be  our  graves." 
His  blood-hounds  the  tyrant  hath  loosed  for  their  prey, 
And  the  lives  of  our  brethren  will  gorge  them  to-day  : 
But  the  slayers  shall  die 
Where  their  victims  lie  ; 
On  their  necks  shall  the  foot  of  the  freeman  tread. 
And  the  crown  shall  be  torn  from  the  perjurer's  head  1   - 

21 

"  flux  annrs,  aux  armes  /"  o'er  heaps  of  slain 

Come  plant  our  freedom's  tree ; 

44  Aux  armes  !  aux  armes  !  its  trophies  vain 

Come  rend  from  tyranny  ! 
Who  will  not  with  pride  to  the  combat  hie  ! 
'Tis  the  crown  of  all  glory  for  freedom  to  die* 
Our  fallen  standard  rear, 
Unfurl  it  from  the  spear  ; 
It's  texture  is  dipp'd  in  the  bow  of  the  skies, 
It  has  wav'd  o'er  a  hundred  victories  ! 


"  flux  armftf,  aux  armes!11  our  brethren  bleed, 

Our  streets  are  red  with  death : 

**  Aux  armes !  aux  armes  1"  the  fierce  war-steed 

Tramples  out  infant  breath  ! 

Our  sisters  die  by  the  despot's  band — 

En  avantl  and  be  free  our  native  land  ! 
Youth  and  grey  age  unite 
Amid  the  ranks  of  fight ; — 
Then  France,  in  the  brightness  of  Freedom's  flame, 
Shall  consume  the  pale  lily  that  brought  her  shame. 

"  flux  armtt,  aux  armes  F 


701 


THE    ASTROLOGER. 


No.  14. 


a  utmittattic  KatmitiN 


»    A    8,  A  ©,  *    W»  *    V»  A    $,  £    * 

6  0  8 
<$  ¥  * 


702 

I  insert  this  nativity  at  the  request  of  the  child  s 
father,  (who  is  himself  a  clever  student  in  astrology f) 
chiefly  to  exemplify  the  extraordinary  number  and 
efficacy  of  the  planetary  aspects.  The  >  in  a  to  8 
and  governing  the  ascendant,  and  g  in  •&  to  t  will 
cause  the  nativee  to  be  one  of  the  most  ingenious  ol 
females,  skilful  and  ready  in  all  the  ordinary  acquire- 
ments of  the  fair  sex ;  and  although  somewhat  tr- 
rascible,  yet  morally  inclined,  and  generous  spirited* 
The  6  of  ©  g  in  #>  to  %  and  y  is  an  excellent  sym- 
bol for  marriage  in  a  female  horoscope :  I  have  little 
doubt  the  nativee  will  marry  a  "  gentleman  of  for- 
tune," or  one  vastly  above  her  own  statioji  in  life, 
and  so  many  planets  above  the  earth.  The  0  in  his 
exaltation :  the  reception  and  aspects  of  JJ  and  $ ,  and 
the  favourable  a  of  the  luminaries,  foretel  aforlM* 
naie  destiny.  But  as  the  T>  is  much  afflicted  by  the 
8  of  j,  in  youth,  the  nativee  will  be  weak  and 
delicate,  and  amazingly  subject  to  enemies  after- 
wards. The  lord  of  the  second  angular  in  the  tenth 
generally  causes  marriage  to  an  eminent  professional 
character,  and  is  excellent  for  gain  by  any  kind  of 
public  business,  &c.  &c. 


THE  NEW  ASTROLOGER  OF  THE  19th  CENTURY. 

In  answer  to  several  hundred  correspondents  who  ha?e  written  to  Raphael 
respecting  this  projected  new  work,  the  author  begs  leare  to  state,  that  ft 
will  form  a  Companion  to  the  Familiar  Astrologer;  containing,  a  compUU 
System  ofGeomancy.from  the  Earl  of  Essex's  MSS.  ;  an  Astrological  Dicti- 
onary ;  and  a  great  quantity  of  Curious  Horoscopes:  as  also,  mystic  Signs, 
Sigils,  Plates,  and  Talismans,  the  greater  part  original.  Orders  for  this  new 
work  should  be  forthwith  forwarded,  post  paid,  to  Mr.  Wright,  4,  Patents- 
ter  Row,  who  will  readily  procure  it  for  Raphael's  readers.  It  can  he  had 
also  of  Mr*  Bennett,  or  his  Agents. 


703 


THE    ASTROLOGER. 


No.  15. 


&  UtmaxftMV  bmfiefr  ftorarg  Que  etiott* 


I  am  induced  to  give  this  example  a  place  in  my 
present  work,  as  an  instance  how  far  the  power  of 
the  stars  may  be  relied  upon :  even  where  kings  and 
emperors  are  concerned,  and  also  in  life  and  death. 


704 

At  the  time  specified  in  the  above  figure,  a  gen- 
tleman holding  an  official  situation  under  the  Govern- 
ment,  wrote  me  word  (as  a  secret,  for  politicians  are 
liable  to  error,  and  so  are  all  men  who  judge  from 
appearances  alone)  that  there  was  "  a  decided  change 
for  the  better  in  his  late  Majesty's  health,"  and  that 
he  expected  a  recovery  was  possible  ;  although  it  is 
but  fair  to  state,  that  .this  gentleman  at  the  same  time 
expressed  his  deference  for  my  scientific  opinion,  in 
preference  to  that  of  the  physicians.  Having  cast 
the  figure,  I  soon  found  testimonials  enough  of  ap- 
proaching death:  such  as  the  student  will  readily 
perceive  are  visible  in  the  sun,  lord  of  the  4th  angular 
in  the  king's  ascendant  (the  10th  house)  :  Venus,  sig- 
nifcator  of  the  king  verging  to  a  quartile  of  Jupiter \ 
lord  of  the  8th  house,  and  Jupiter,  lord  of  the  8th 
house,  from  the  10th,  going  by  retrograde  motion,  to 
the  quartile  of  the  lord  of  the  king's  ascendant :  the 
moon  in  semUquartile  to  Mars,  disposed  of  by  that 
planet;  Mars,  disposed  of  by  Saturn,  and  Saturn 
surrendering  the  whole  influence  to  the  Sun,  who 
was  angular  in  the  monarch's  house  of  life.  1  imme- 
diately wrote  down  my  prediction  that  the  kino 

WOULD  NOT  RECOVER  HIS  ILLNESS,  BUT  DIE  WITHIN 

two  months  at  farthest.  The  letter,  and  presage 
contained  therein,  can  be  proved  upon  oath  as  being 
sent  to  the  gentleman  in  question,  as  I  requested 
the  letter  to  remain  sealed,  over  the  first  part  of  June, 
in  order  that  no  possible  evasion  could  be  alleged  to 
the  astrologer.  The  reader  will  receive  this  exam- 
ple of  an  exemplified  horary  question  gratefully  from 

The  Author. 

Raphael. 


705 


THE     ASTROLOGER. 


No.  10. 


«fl>r  Natitutg  ot  mtntv  V*  of  fxmtu 


48  31 


8 


228  31 


4o 


706 


Serological  Speculum. 


Latitudes. 

Declinations. 

Right  Ascension. 

Semi- A  res. 

tjl     0   12  S. 

y  23  34  S. 

©  185 

21 

#  119    56  N. 

2      4    S. 

b     1  30  N. 

$   184 

1 

h    91     43  0. 

%  1   33  S. 

It     6  50  S. 

$   141 

17 

It    81       7  0. 

£  0     6  S. 

t   13  11  S. 

D    96 

2 

$  105     32  N. 

?  2     OS. 

?   12     ON. 

J?     10 

45 

%  104      4D. 

$    1  27  N. 

?     2   16  S. 

%  347 

38 

3     92     36  D. 

D  5     7N. 

©     2  30  S. 

*  212 

6 

2)  128     12  D. 

3)   28  24  N. 

y  264 

32 

0    92     52  N. 

Pole  of  the  D  26  30  -  - 
Pole  of  the  ©  25  0  -  - 
0.  A.  D80  23       0.  A.  ©  186  31 


H.  T.  21  22 
H.  T   15  29 


The  observations  and  judgment  upon  this  Horos- 
cope, the  reader  will  find  in  my  Prophetic  Messen- 
ger for  1832.     I  have  inserted  the  figure  and  the 
Astrological  Speculum  appended,  in  order  that  the 
reader,  and  especially  the  student,  may  have  a  cor- 
rect  praxis  for  to    work  an   authentic    example. 
The  arcs  and  the  figure,  with  other  et  ceteras,  \ 
have  calculated  by  Trigonometry.     Here,  I  subjoin 
a  list  of  the  arcs  of  direction  both  in  degrees  and 
time,  according  to  Nay  bod's  measure. 


'p 


rn 


The  3)  to  the  rapt  parallel  of  Ijin  mundo     - 
The  0  to  the  mundane  g  of  f?  direct  motion 
The  ©  to  the  zodiacal  8  of  T?      -     -    -     - 

The  D  to  the  mundane  sesquiquadrate  of  £ , 
converse  motion    -------- 

The  3)  to  the  zodiacal  D  of  f?  with  latitude 
The  ])  to  the  mundane  parallel  of  I?  converse 


Area. 


I 


'2   47 

4  57 

5  5 

5  53 
C  3 
G   43 


Vr«.  Mnlh*. 


2  10 
5      0 

5  I 

6  0 
6  1 
G   10 


707 


■^v 


The  ascendant  to  the  mnndane  Semi-quartile 
of  J 

The  ascendant  to  the  mundane  Semi-qnartile 
of  the©     ---------- 

The  D  to  the  mundane  g  of  ty  converse  -    - 

The  >  to  the  zodiacal  quartile  of  b  >  without 

latitude       ---------- 

The  D  to  the  progressive  6  of  £  (secondary 
motion)     ---------- 

The  ascendant  to  the  mundane  •)(•  of  the  D  - 
The  D  to  the  mundane  O  of  %  converse 
The  mid-heaven  to  the  mundane  quin.  of  % 
The  D  to  the  zodiacal  A  of  % ,  with  latitude 
The  ascendant  to  the  mundane  Semi-quartile 

The  2>  to  the  progressive  4  of  ty  (secondary 

motion)      -  -.------ 

The  ]>  to  the  zodiaoal  A  of  %t  without  1b!L 
The  D  to  the  mnndane  O  of  j  direct      -    - 
The  3)  to  the  mundane  Q  of  0  direct     -     - 
The  D  to  the  mundane  #  of  $  converse 
The  0  to  the  mundane  Semi-quartile  of  $ 

converse     ---------- 

*  The  3>  to  the  mundano  A  of  U  direct 
The  D  to  the  6  of  %  progressive  (secondary 

motion)      ---------- 

The  D  to  the  6  of  F?  -  ditto  -  -  ditto  -  "- 
*The  ])  to  the  mundane  D  of  b  direct  -  - 
The  Mid-heaven  to  the  mundane  A  of  $  - 
The  ©  to  the  mundane  D  of  h  converse  - 
The  Mid-heaven  to  the  mundane  A  of  the© 
The  ascendant  to  the  mundane  g  of  %  -  - 
The  ©  to  the  mundane  8  of  %  converse  - 
The  Mid-heaven  to  the  mundane  ^  of  J  - 
The  ©  to  the  mundane  Semi-quartile  of  ty 

direct     ----------- 

The  ©  to  the  hpdy  of  (J  zodiac  and  mundo 
The  D  to  the  mundane  sesquiquadrate  of  % 

direct      ----------- 

The  D  to  the  mundane  sesquiquadrate  of  & 

direct      ----------- 

The  >  to  the  mundane  Semi-quartile  of  J? 

converse      --------     -    - 

The  3>  to  the  rapt  parallel  of  &     -    •    - 


Arct.   Vn.  Mntht. 


14  58 

15  10 

16  39 
16  54 


21  '23 

22  14 

22  57 

23  45 
25  14 
25  48 
28  54 

30  19 

31  49 

32  34 

33  19 

34  54 
40  6 


6  11 

8  5 
8  10 

8  I0£ 

9  I] 
9  11} 

12  10 
12  10 

12  10 

13  8} 

14  0 

15  2} 

15  5 

16  10} 

17  3 

is    7 

19  4 

19  10 
2!  5 
21,  8£ 


22 
23 
24 

25 
26 
29 


7 

4 
1 

7 
2 
5 


30  9 

32  3 

33  1 

33  10 

35  6 

40  8 


708 

The  reader  will,  upon  comparing  this  list  of  arcs 
with  those  given  in  the  Prophetic  Messenger  for 
1832,  discover  a  trifling  error  in  those  two  directions 
marked  thus  *,  which  he  is  desired  to  correct  with 
his  pen :  they  crept  in  through  the  negligence  of 
the  Printer  of  the  Prophetic  Messenger,  and  which, 
if  the  Author  had  left  unnoticed,  might  probably 
have  furnished  some  enemy  to  the  science  to  doubt 
the  truth  of  his  astronomical  calculations.  I  have 
received  many  letters  upon  the  propriety  of  work- 
ing an  example  of  directions  in  full ;  and  I  gladly 
embrace  the  present  opportunity  of  thus  complying 
with  my  brother  students'  wishes. — Whiledescanting 
on  this  subject,  it  may  be  as  well  to  insert  the  fol- 
lowing quaint  prophecy  of  Moriiius,  a  celebrated 
Gallic  Astrologer.  It  runs  thus,  and  is  very  singu- 
lar.    The  orthography  only  I  have  modernised 

««  The  royal  Fleur-de-htcc  will  fall : 
And  Saturn's  rays  shall  master  all ! 
Cruel  Mars  with  strife  shall  gage, 
Fleet  foot  Mercury:  in  amaze  I 
Then  the  bolt  of  Jove  will  roll : 
Shaking  Earth  from  pole  to  pole. 
Anon  a  Moon-ly  star  arises, 
Erst  a  gift  that  star  comprises: 
While  a  quartile  and  a  trine. 
Many  noble  hearts  shall  join. 

Then  comes  a  black  Eagle ; 

Whom  many  shall  iuveigle: 

Night  sweeps  gloomy  o*er 

Nation's  soon  no  more ! 

A  fiery  Comet  strikes  dread 

Multitudes  lie  dead! 

A  Flag  is  hail'd  by  a  mighty  one ! 

Earth's  wonders  are  more  than  done ! 

Ere  half  begun  ! — sly  Saturn  creeps  I 

Time's  Scythe  cruelly  sweeps ! 

The  glittering  stars  burn  dim 

But  then  arises  HIM 

Who  shall  conquer  even  the  Dead  !" 

1  have  seldom  penned  a  more  curious  legendary 
prophecy.  I  trust  the  reader  will  think  it  with  mo> 
worthy  notice. 


709 


Method  of  working  the  Poles  of  the  Celestial 

Houses. 


TO  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  FAMILIAR  A8TROLOOER. 

Honoured  Sir, 

I  am  not  aware  that  the  following  method  of  de- 
termining the  Polar  elevations  of  the  houses  (which 
by  intense  study  I  have  discovered,)  is  given  by  any 
author. — Thus,  for  example,  let  it  be  required  to 
find  the  polar  elevations  in  the  figure,  given  at 
page  502  of  the  present  work. 


First  for  the  Pole  of  the  Fifth  House. 

The  R.  A.  Sun  is                 113  14    O.  D.  of  the  5th  **    121  13 

—  J   Sun  lem.  noct  arc        19  10    —  Sun  R.  A.  113  14 

94    4  7  59 
R.  A.    I.  C.      =        91  13     +  dkst  Sun  from  5th  =        2  51 


The  Sun  dkt  from  6th  ho.  =  2  51     Sun's  A.  D.  under  pole  of  5h= 10  50 


Tonne  A.  D.  -        -        10  50=    927415 

Add  cotang.  dec.     -        -        21  45  =  1039907 

Tang.  26  14  s    9  67310 

"Which  shews  the  pole  of  the  5th  ho.  to  be       *       -       25  14 


710 

2.  For  the  Pole  of  the  Sixth  House. 

£  Sun  sem.  noe.  arc       =      19  10    O  D.  of  6th  ho.       =  151  13 

—  Sun  diet,  from  5th     =        2  51    —  Sun  R.  A.  =  113  14 


Sun  dist.  from  6th  =       16  19  37  59 

As  the  Sun  has  past  the  cusp  of  the 

Oth,  subtract  his  dist.  16  19 


Sun  A.  D.  under  the  pole  of  the  6th     =      21  40 


To  sine  A.  D.  21  40  ==     9  56727 

Add  cotang.  Sun  dec.  21  45  =  10  39907 


Tang,  of  the  pole  of  6th  =  42  47  =     996634 


The  Poles  of  the  Asc.  and  7th  are,  of  course,  equal  to  the  lot.  of  the 
place — but  may  be  determined  in  the  same  manner,  thus, 


3.  For  the  Pole  of  the  Seventh  House. 

§  Sun  sem.  noc.  arc       =      38  20    O.  D.  of  7th  ho.       =  181  13 

—  Sun  dist.  from  5th    =        2  51     —  Sun  R.  A.  US  14 


nn  dist.  from  7th   •      =       35  29  67  59 

—  Sun  from  7th       =  35  29 


Sun  A.  D,  under  pole  of  the  7th  =  32  30 


To  sine  of  A.  D.       -        -        32  30  =     9  73021 
Add  cotang.  dec.       -        -        21  45  =  10  39907 


Tang,  of  the  Pole        -        53  24  =  1012928 


The  Pole  of  the  6th  will  be  the  Pole  of  the  2d  ;  and  the  Pole  of  th#* 
3d  the  same  as  the  Pole  of  the  5th.  Had  we  found  their  Poles,  instead 
of  the  above  operations,  the  process  would  have  been  thus : 


711 


R  A.  San 

Add  \  Sun's  arc   • 

4.  For  the  Pole  o   tho  Third. 

-=    113  14    R.  A.  of  the  Sun           =* 
19  10    —  0.  A.of8dho.        = 

113  U 

fti  is 

—  R.  A.     LC    4 

182  24 

=r      91  13    —  Sun  dirt,  from  3d    =» 

52     1 
41  11 

Sun  dist.  from  3d 

=s      41  11    Sun's  A.  D.  under  pole 

10  50 

Jl  V     \M\9 

The  A.  D.  being  thus  obtained,  proceed  for  the  Pole  as  before. 

6.  For  the  Pole  of  the  8ecoud. 

Sun  dirt,  from  3d          =4111    R.  A.  Sun           -      ' '  113  14 

Add  £  Sun  sem.  arc       =      19  10    —  O.  A.  2d  ho.  8113 

Sun  ditt.  from  2d  ho.     =      60  21  82    1 

■             —  Sun  dist.  torn  2d*  =     60  21 

Sun  A.  D.  under  21  40 

The  Pole  of  the    econd  as  before. 

6.  For  the  Pole      the  Ascendant 


R.  A.  Sun           -        -        113  14 

Add  Sun  tern.  noc.  arc           57  30 

R.  A.  Sun  -  -  113  14 
—  O.  A.  asc.      -                     1  13 

170  44 
—  R.  A.    I.  C.            =*=      91  18 

112  1 
—  Sun  dist.  fin.  cusp  of  asc.     79  81 

San  dist.  from  asc.    =      79  31 

Sun  A.  D.  under                32  30 

» 

The  Pole  of  the  Ascendant,  which  is  the  same  as  before  found, 
nnder  the  Pole  of  the  7th;  consequently,  having  this  A.  D.,the 
Pole  may  be  obtained  as  before. 

From  these,  and  other  operations  in  various 
schemes,  I  am  led  to  conclude,  that  the  Poles  of 
every  house,  except  the  ascendant  and  7th,  are 
moveable ;  depending  solely  on  the  place  of  the 
Sun. 


712 

2.  That  the  Poles  of  the  houses  vary  for  every 
other  planet ;  that  is,  each  planet,  when  directed  in 
mundo,  requires  a  different  polar  elevation  to  be 
given  to  each  house,  (distinct  from  every  other 
planet,)  in  order  to  determine  its  distance  from  the 
cusp  of  that  house ;  otherwise  the  distance  cannot 
be  correctly  found  by  O.  A.  or  O.  D. 

Hence,  in  directing  a  planet  to  mundane  aspects, 
we  must  take  its  distance  from  the  house  forming  the 
given  configuration — according  to  the  polar  elevation 
of  such  house,  determined  by  the  planet  whose  dis- 
tance is  require^,  as  above. 
'  But  in  erecting  a  true  figure  of  the  Heavens,  the 
polar  elevations  of  the  houses  will  always  be  de- 
termined by  the  Sun,  at  the  time  the  figure  is 
erected  for. 

As  I  observed  before,  the  most  correct  and  simple 
method  of  taking  distances  is  by  R.  A.  and  the 
exact  proportional  parts  of  the  arcs,  &c. — by  which 
the  truth  of  the  above  Theories  may  easily  be  de- 
termined. This  method  is  given  in  your  Manual 
of  Astrology. 

If  these  observations  are  deserving  of  a  place  in 
your  invaluable  work,  I  shall  feel  highly  gratified 
by  seeing  them  inserted. 

I.remain,  Sir, 
Your  most  respectful  correspondent 

and  obliged  servant, 
D   PARKB& 

Sheffield,  Oct.  1.  1831. 


713 


RAPHAEL'S  THEOREM  FOR  WORKING  THE 

CELESTIAL  POLES. 

1.  Let  a?  be  the  unknown  quantity,  or  the  Pole  of  the  house  re- 
quired to  be  found. 

?.  Assume  x  to  bare  the  greatest  declination  of  the  Ecliptic, 
viz.  23  28,  either  A,  or  &.  as  being  above  or  under  the  Earth 
in  all  cases. 

8.  Find  the  ascensional  difference  of  x  thus,  To  the  Tangent 
of  the  declination,  add  the  Tangent  of  the  place's  Latitude,-  and 
the  sum  will  be  the  Sine  of  the  Ascensional  difference  of  x.  To 
this^c.  Diffl,  add  90  degrees ;  and  the  sum  in  either  case,  will 
be  the  semi-arc  of  *. 

4.  For  the  right  distance  of  *,  if  it  be  the  Pole  of  the  Oth  or 
11th,  £  of  the  semi-diurnal  arc  is  the  right  distance  from  the  Mid 
heaven :  if  the  Pole  of  the  12th  or  8th,  §  of  the  semi-diurnal  arc 
is  the  right  distance.  *  If  it  be  the  Pole  of  the  2d  or  6th,  §  of  the 
semi-nocturnal  arc  is  the  right  distance  from  the  Imum  Cceli :  if 
it  be  the  Pole  of  the  3d  or  5th,  £  of  the  arc  will  be  the  right 
distance. 

5.  Then  say,  as  the  semi-arc  of  x  is  to  90  degrees,  so  is  the 
right  distance  to  the  difference  between  its  circle  of  position,  and 
that  of  the  Meridian :  which  proportional  part,  subtracted  from  its 
right  distance,  or  the  difference  between  the  two,  will  give  the  true 
Ascensional  difference  of  x,  under  its  own  Pole. 

6.  To  the  sine  of  this  Ascensional  difference,  add  the  cotangent 
of  the  declination,  the  sum  will  be  the  tangent  of  the  Pole  of  *, 
(or  of  the  House  in  question.) 

EXAMPLES. 
In  the  Lat.  of  55  degrees,  required  the  Pole  of  the  5th  House  ? 

1.  Let  x  be  the  Pole  of  the  5th  house. 

Tangent  of  the  declin.  of  x         28  28  S.        -        9-63761 
Tangent  of  55 1015477 

The  sine  of  this,  is    88  19                                        9*79288 
Add  90  


128  19    The  semi-arc  of  x 

4x 


714 

J  of  this  semi-arc  is  the  right  distance  of  x    =  42  46 
Then  by  the  Golden  Rule,  say, 

As     128  19  :  90    : ;  42  46  to  the 

Proportional  part  =  30.    Which  is  the  difference  between  the 
circle  of  Position  and  that  of  the  Meridian. 

42  46        right  distance  » 
Subtract  -  -    80    0        proportional  part 

1 2  46  The  asc.  cliff,  of  x  under  its  own  pole. 


Sine  of  12  46  asc,  diff.  x  -  9*34485 

Cotang.  dec.    23  28  of  x  add  10*96289 


Tangent  of  Pole  of  x  9-70674 

=  to  26  58  (or  what  is  near  enough  for  the  Student  to 
work  from  27 ;)  which  is  the  true  Pole  of  *,  or  of  the  5th  house, 
in  Latitude  55  degrees. 

In  all  other  cases  the  student  may  pursue  the  same  method,  whka 
is,  I  flatter  myself,  perfectly  simple  and  easy 


ASTROLOGICAL  AUTHORS. 

To  Correspondents* 


Ever  ready  to  farther  the  cause  of  Science,  and  to  oblige  Its  votaries,  R*~ 
phael  has,  at  the  request  of  numerous  correspondents,  annexed  the  fblMsf 
list  of  prices  to  the  Astrological  Works  mentioned  in  this  Book.     Of  test 
mentioned  at  Page  479,  the  price  of  the  Astrologer  of  the  \9th  Cemtmrp,  co- 
loured plates,  is  £\  U.;   of  The  Booh  of  Spirits,  6s.  Qd.  z  of  The  Mammedrf 
Astrology,  10*. ;   of  The  Royal  Book  of  Fate,  6s.  ;   of  The  Royal  Book  #/ 
Dreams,  bs. ;  of  THE  FAMILIAR  ASTROLOGER,  16s. ;  of  the  PrneArtir 
Messenger,  annually,  2t.  04. ;   of  The  Witch,  8*.  6d.    Also  the  price  of  the 
RED  BARN,  a  highly  interesting  work,  and  extremely  well  written,  in  Uk. 
The  price  of  Mr.  OxUy's  Planispheres,  with  Book  of  reference,  is  ^1  tic.  64. 
Mr.  Parkes'  Elementary  Treatise  not  being  complete,  the  price  is  not  known. 
But  to  save  trouble,  correspondents  may  have  any,  or  all  of  the  above  worts* 
by  writing  to  the  Author  of  the  Familiar  Astrologer,  Post  Paw,  nod  enclos- 
ing the  sums  above  named.     Raphael's  address  is  given  at  the  End  qftius 
Work. 


715 


THE    ASTROLOGER. 


No.  16. 


Cfce  Nattbttfi  of  Zatftitl  tbt  aufyenittft. 


716 


DKCLINATI0N9. 

#21  82  N. 

D  6  20  8. 
^  10  OS. 
j,   10  45  S 
%   17  48  S. 
i     8  ON. 
$  26  ON. 
g  15  80  N. 

X  have  inserted  the  Nativity  of  Zadkiel,  in  order 
that  those  of  my  readers  who  are  curious  in  Horo- 
scopes, may  be  possessed  of  one,  remarkable  in  its 
positions,  configurations,  and  aspects  :  my  limits 
forbear  further  remark,  but  I  think  the  figure 
worth  inspecting.  And  thus,  courteous  reader, 
Raphael  concludes  the  jfamiU&V  90ttttl0(|tf< 

75,  Cattle  Street,  East,  Oxford  Street* 
Nop  lift,  1681. 

D  a  6   %etlf. 


THE   END. 


W.  m.  Bl  8.  Knif  bt.  Printers, 
II,  Bishops  Court,  Old  Bailey.