{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_7082/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_7082","id":"gutenberg_7082","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7082","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Other","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Magic -- History","Magicians -- Biography","Witchcraft -- History","Witches -- Biography"],"text":"Produced by Wendy Crockett, Carlo Traverso, Charles Franks\nand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team, from images\ngenerously made available by the Biblioth\u00e8que nationale\nde France (BnF/Gallica) at http://gallica.bnf.fr.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Transcriber's Note: Footnotes have been numbered sequentially and\nmoved to the end of the text.]\n\n\n\n\nLIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS:\n\nOR\n\nAN ACCOUNT OF THE MOST EMINENT PERSONS IN SUCCESSIVE AGES, WHO HAVE\nCLAIMED FOR THEMSELVES, OR TO WHOM HAS BEEN IMPUTED BY OTHERS,\n\nTHE\n\nEXERCISE OF MAGICAL POWER.\n\n\nBY  WILLIAM  GODWIN.\n\n\nLONDON\n\nFrederick J Mason, 444, West Strand\n\n1834\n\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThe main purpose of this book is to exhibit a fair delineation of the\ncredulity of the human mind. Such an exhibition cannot fail to be\nproductive of the most salutary lessons.\n\nOne view of the subject will teach us a useful pride in the abundance\nof our faculties. Without pride man is in reality of little value. It\nis pride that stimulates us to all our great undertakings. Without\npride, and the secret persuasion of extraordinary talents, what man\nwould take up the pen with a view to produce an important work,\nwhether of imagination and poetry, or of profound science, or of acute\nand subtle reasoning and intellectual anatomy? It is pride in this\nsense that makes the great general and the consummate legislator, that\nanimates us to tasks the most laborious, and causes us to shrink from\nno difficulty, and to be confounded and overwhelmed with no obstacle\nthat can be interposed in our path.\n\nNothing can be more striking than the contrast between man and the\ninferior animals. The latter live only for the day, and see for the\nmost part only what is immediately before them. But man lives in the\npast and the future. He reasons upon and improves by the past; he\nrecords the acts of a long series of generations: and he looks into\nfuture time, lays down plans which he shall be months and years in\nbringing to maturity, and contrives machines and delineates systems\nof education and government, which may gradually add to the\naccommodations of all, and raise the species generally into a nobler\nand more honourable character than our ancestors were capable of\nsustaining.\n\nMan looks through nature, and is able to reduce its parts into a great\nwhole. He classes the beings which are found in it, both animate and\ninanimate, delineates and describes them, investigates their\nproperties, and records their capacities, their good and evil\nqualities, their dangers and their uses.\n\nNor does he only see all that is; but he also images all that is not.\nHe takes to pieces the substances that are, and combines their parts\ninto new arrangements. He peoples all the elements from the world of\nhis imagination. It is here that he is most extraordinary and\nwonderful. The record of what actually is, and has happened in the\nseries of human events, is perhaps the smallest part of human history.\nIf we would know man in all his subtleties, we must deviate into the\nworld of miracles and sorcery. To know the things that are not, and\ncannot be, but have been imagined and believed, is the most curious\nchapter in the annals of man. To observe the actual results of these\nimaginary phenomena, and the crimes and cruelties they have caused us\nto commit, is one of the most instructive studies in which we can\npossibly be engaged. It is here that man is most astonishing, and that\nwe contemplate with most admiration the discursive and unbounded\nnature of his faculties.\n\nBut, if a recollection of the examples of the credulity of the human\nmind may in one view supply nourishment to our pride, it still more\nobviously tends to teach us sobriety and humiliation. Man in his\ngenuine and direct sphere is the disciple of reason; it is by this\nfaculty that he draws inferences, exerts his prudence, and displays\nthe ingenuity of machinery, and the subtlety of system both in natural\nand moral philosophy. Yet what so irrational as man? Not contented\nwith making use of the powers we possess, for the purpose of conducing\nto our accommodation and well being, we with a daring spirit inquire\ninto the invisible causes of what we see, and people all nature with\nGods \"of every shape and size\" and angels, with principalities and\npowers, with beneficent beings who \"take charge concerning us lest at\nany time we dash our foot against a stone,\" and with devils who are\nperpetually on the watch to perplex us and do us injury. And, having\nfamiliarised our minds with the conceptions of these beings, we\nimmediately aspire to hold communion with them. We represent to\nourselves God, as \"walking in the garden with us in the cool of the\nday,\" and teach ourselves \"not to forget to entertain strangers, lest\nby so doing we should repel angels unawares.\"\n\nNo sooner are we, even in a slight degree, acquainted with the laws of\nnature, than we frame to ourselves the idea, by the aid of some\ninvisible ally, of suspending their operation, of calling out meteors\nin the sky, of commanding storms and tempests, of arresting the motion\nof the heavenly bodies, of producing miraculous cures upon the bodies\nof our fellow-men, or afflicting them with disease and death, of\ncalling up the deceased from the silence of the grave, and compelling\nthem to disclose \"the secrets of the world unknown.\"\n\nBut, what is most deplorable, we are not contented to endeavour to\nsecure the aid of God and good angels, but we also aspire to enter\ninto alliance with devils, and beings destined for their rebellion to\nsuffer eternally the pains of hell. As they are supposed to be of a\ncharacter perverted and depraved, we of course apply to them\nprincipally for purposes of wantonness, or of malice and revenge. And,\nin the instances which have occurred only a few centuries back, the\nmost common idea has been of a compact entered into by an unprincipled\nand impious human being with the sworn enemy of God and man, in the\nresult of which the devil engages to serve the capricious will and\nperform the behests of his blasphemous votary for a certain number of\nyears, while the deluded wretch in return engages to renounce his God\nand Saviour, and surrender himself body and soul to the pains of hell\nfrom the end of that term to all eternity. No sooner do we imagine\nhuman beings invested with these wonderful powers, and conceive them\nas called into action for the most malignant purposes, than we become\nthe passive and terrified slaves of the creatures of our own\nimaginations, and fear to be assailed at every moment by beings to\nwhose power we can set no limit, and whose modes of hostility no human\nsagacity can anticipate and provide against. But, what is still more\nextraordinary, the human creatures that pretend to these powers have\noften been found as completely the dupes of this supernatural\nmachinery, as the most timid wretch that stands in terror at its\nexpected operation; and no phenomenon has been more common than the\nconfession of these allies of hell, that they have verily and indeed\nheld commerce and formed plots and conspiracies with Satan.\n\nThe consequence of this state of things has been, that criminal\njurisprudence and the last severities of the law have been called\nforth to an amazing extent to exterminate witches and witchcraft. More\nespecially in the sixteenth century hundreds and thousands were burned\nalive within the compass of a small territory; and judges, the\ndirectors of the scene, a Nicholas Remi, a De Lancre, and many others,\nhave published copious volumes, entering into a minute detail of the\nsystem and fashion of the witchcraft of the professors, whom they sent\nin multitudes to expiate their depravity at the gallows and the stake.\n\nOne useful lesson which we may derive from the detail of these\nparticulars, is the folly in most cases of imputing pure and unmingled\nhypocrisy to man. The human mind is of so ductile a character that,\nlike what is affirmed of charity by the apostle, it \"believeth all\nthings, and endureth all things.\" We are not at liberty to trifle with\nthe sacredness of truth. While we persuade others, we begin to deceive\nourselves. Human life is a drama of that sort, that, while we act our\npart, and endeavour to do justice to the sentiments which are put down\nfor us, we begin to believe we are the thing we would represent.\n\nTo shew however the modes in which the delusion acts upon the person\nthrough whom it operates, is not properly the scope of this book. Here\nand there I have suggested hints to this purpose, which the curious\nreader may follow to their furthest extent, and discover how with\nperfect good faith the artist may bring himself to swallow the\ngrossest impossibilities. But the work I have written is not a\ntreatise of natural magic. It rather proposes to display the immense\nwealth of the faculty of imagination, and to shew the extravagances of\nwhich the man may be guilty who surrenders himself to its guidance.\n\nIt is fit however that the reader should bear in mind, that what is\nput down in this book is but a small part and scantling of the acts of\nsorcery and witchcraft which have existed in human society. They have\nbeen found in all ages and countries. The torrid zone and the frozen\nnorth have neither of them escaped from a fruitful harvest of this\nsort of offspring. In ages of ignorance they have been especially at\nhome; and the races of men that have left no records behind them to\ntell almost that they existed, have been most of all rife in deeds of\ndarkness, and those marvellous incidents which especially astonish the\nspectator, and throw back the infant reason of man into those shades\nand that obscurity from which it had so recently endeavoured to\nescape.\n\nI wind up for the present my literary labours with the production of\nthis book. Nor let any reader imagine that I here put into his hands a\nmere work of idle recreation. It will be found pregnant with deeper\nuses. The wildest extravagances of human fancy, the most deplorable\nperversion of human faculties, and the most horrible distortions of\njurisprudence, may occasionally afford us a salutary lesson. I love in\nthe foremost place to contemplate man in all his honours and in all\nthe exaltation of wisdom and virtue; but it will also be occasionally\nof service to us to look into his obliquities, and distinctly to\nremark how great and portentous have been his absurdities and his\nfollies.\n\n_May_ 29, 1834.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nAMBITIOUS NATURE OF MAN\n  HIS DESIRE TO PENETRATE INTO FUTURITY\n  DIVINATION\n  AUGURY\n  CHIROMANCY\n  PHYSIOGNOMY\n  INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS\n  CASTING OF LOTS\n  ASTROLOGY\n  ORACLES\n  DELPHI\n  THE DESIRE TO  COMMAND AND CONTROL FUTURE EVENTS\n  COMMERCE WITH THE INVISIBLE WORLD\n  SORCERY AND ENCHANTMENT\n  WITCHCRAFT\n  COMPACTS WITH THE DEVIL\n  IMPS\n  TALISMANS AND AMULETS\n  NECROMANCY\n  ALCHEMY\n  FAIRIES\n  ROSICRUCIANS\n  SYLPHS AND GNOMES, SALAMANDERS AND UNDINES\n\nEXAMPLES OF NECROMANCY AND WITCHCRAFT FROM THE BIBLE\n  THE MAGI, OR WISE MEN OF THE EAST\n  EGYPT\n  STATUE OF MEMNON\n  TEMPLE OF JUPITER AMMON: ITS ORACLES\n  CHALDEA AND BABYLON\n  ZOROASTER\n\nGREECE\n  DEITIES OF GREECE\n  DEMIGODS\n  DAEDALUS\n  THE ARGONAUTS\n  MEDEA\n  CIRCE\n  ORPHEUS\n  AMPHION\n  TIRESIAS\n  ABARIS\n  PYTHAGORAS\n  EPIMENIDES\n  EMPEDOCLES\n  ARISTEAS\n  HERMOTIMUS\n  THE MOTHER OF DEMARATUS, KING OF SPARTA\n  ORACLES\n  INVASION OF XERXES INTO GREECE\n  DEMOCRITUS\n  SOCRATES\n\nROME\n  VIRGIL\n  POLYDORUS\n  DIDO\n  ROMULUS\n  NUMA\n  TULLUS HOSTILIUS\n  ACCIUS NAVIUS\n  SERVIUS TULLIUS\n  THE SORCERESS OF VIRGIL\n  CANIDIA\n  ERICHTHO\n  SERTORIUS\n  CASTING OUT DEVILS\n  SIMON MAGUS\n  ELYMAS, THE SORCERER\n  NERO\n  VESPASIAN\n  APOLLONIUS OF TYANA\n  APULEIUS\n  ALEXANDER THE PAPHLAGONIAN\n\nREVOLUTION PRODUCED IN THE HISTORY OF NECROMANCY AND WITCHCRAFT UPON\nTHE ESTABLISHMENT OF CHRISTIANITY\n  MAGICAL CONSULTATIONS RESPECTING THE LIFE OF THE EMPEROR\n\nHISTORY OF NECROMANCY IN THE EAST\n  GENERAL SILENCE OF THE EAST RESPECTING INDIVIDUAL NECROMANCERS\n  ROCAIL\n  HAKEM, OTHERWISE MACANNA\n  ARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS\n  PERSIAN TALES\n  STORY OF A GOULE\n  ARABIAN NIGHTS\n  RESEMBLANCE OF THE TALES OF THE EAST AND OF EUROPE\n  CAUSES OF HUMAN CREDULITY\n\nDARK AGES OF EUROPE\n  MERLIN\n  ST. DUNSTAN\n\nCOMMUNICATION OF EUROPE AND THE SARACENS\n  GERBERT, POPE SILVESTER II\n  BENEDICT THE NINTH\n  GREGORY THE SEVENTH\n  DUFF, KING OF SCOTLAND\n  MACBETH\n  VIRGIL\n  ROBERT OF LINCOLN\n  MICHAEL SCOT\n  THE DEAN OF BADAJOZ\n  MIRACLE OF THE TUB OF WATER\n  INSTITUTION OF FRIARS\n  ALBERTUS MAGNUS\n  ROGER BACON\n  THOMAS AQUINAS\n  PETER OF APONO\n  ENGLISH LAW OF HIGH TREASON\n  ZIITO\n  TRANSMUTATION OF METALS\n  ARTEPHIUS\n  RAYMOND LULLI\n  ARNOLD OF VILLENEUVE\n  ENGLISH LAWS RESPECTING TRANSMUTATION\n\nREVIVAL OF LETTERS\n  JOAN OF ARC\n  ELEANOR COBHAM, DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER\n  RICHARD III\n\nSANGUINARY  PROCEEDINGS AGAINST WITCHCRAFT\n  SAVONAROLA\n  TRITHEMIUS\n  LUTHER\n  CORNELIUS AGRIPPA\n  FAUSTUS\n  SABELLICUS\n  PARACELSUS\n  CARDAN\n  QUACKS, WHO IN COOL BLOOD UNDERTOOK TO OVERREACH MANKIND\n  BENVENUTO CELLINI\n  NOSTRADAMUS\n  DOCTOR DEE\n  EARL OF DERBY\n  KING JAMES'S VOYAGE TO NORWAY\n  JOHN FIAN\n  KING JAMES'S DEMONOLOGY\n  STATUTE, 1 JAMES I\n  FORMAN AND OTHERS\n  LATEST IDEAS OF JAMES ON THE SUBJECT\n  LANCASHIRE WITCHES\n  LADY DAVIES\n  EDWARD FAIRFAX\n  DOCTOR LAMB\n  URBAIN GRANDIER\n  ASTROLOGY\n  WILLIAM LILLY\n  MATTHEW HOPKINS\n  CROMWEL\n  DOROTHY MATELEY\n  WITCHES HANGED BY SIR MATTHEW HALE\n  WITCHCRAFT IN SWEDEN\n  WITCHCRAFT IN NEW ENGLAND\n\nCONCLUSION\n\n\n\n\nLIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS\n\n\nThe improvements that have been effected in natural philosophy have by\ndegrees convinced the enlightened part of mankind that the material\nuniverse is every where subject to laws, fixed in their weight,\nmeasure and duration, capable of the most exact calculation, and which\nin no case admit of variation and exception. Whatever is not thus to\nbe accounted for is of mind, and springs from the volition of some\nbeing, of which the material form is subjected to our senses, and the\naction of which is in like manner regulated by the laws of matter.\nBeside this, mind, as well as matter, is subject to fixed laws; and\nthus every phenomenon and occurrence around us is rendered a topic for\nthe speculations of sagacity and foresight. Such is the creed which\nscience has universally prescribed to the judicious and reflecting\namong us.\n\nIt was otherwise in the infancy and less mature state of human\nknowledge. The chain of causes and consequences was yet unrecognized;\nand events perpetually occurred, for which no sagacity that was then\nin being was able to assign an original. Hence men felt themselves\nhabitually disposed to refer many of the appearances with which they\nwere conversant to the agency of invisible intelligences; sometimes\nunder the influence of a benignant disposition, sometimes of malice,\nand sometimes perhaps from an inclination to make themselves sport of\nthe wonder and astonishment of ignorant mortals. Omens and portents\ntold these men of some piece of good or ill fortune speedily to befal\nthem. The flight of birds was watched by them, as foretokening\nsomewhat important. Thunder excited in them a feeling of supernatural\nterror. Eclipses with fear of change perplexed the nations. The\nphenomena of the heavens, regular and irregular, were anxiously\nremarked from the same principle. During the hours of darkness men\nwere apt to see a supernatural being in every bush; and they could not\ncross a receptacle for the dead, without expecting to encounter some\none of the departed uneasily wandering among graves, or commissioned\nto reveal somewhat momentous and deeply affecting to the survivors.\nFairies danced in the moonlight glade; and something preternatural\nperpetually occurred to fill the living with admiration and awe.\n\nAll this gradually reduced itself into a system. Mankind, particularly\nin the dark and ignorant ages, were divided into the strong and the\nweak; the strong and weak of animal frame, when corporeal strength\nmore decidedly bore sway than in a period of greater cultivation; and\nthe strong and weak in reference to intellect; those who were bold,\naudacious and enterprising in acquiring an ascendancy over their\nfellow-men, and those who truckled, submitted, and were acted upon,\nfrom an innate consciousness of inferiority, and a superstitious\nlooking up to such as were of greater natural or acquired endowments\nthan themselves. The strong in intellect were eager to avail\nthemselves of their superiority, by means that escaped the penetration\nof the multitude, and had recourse to various artifices to effect\ntheir ends. Beside this, they became the dupes of their own practices.\nThey set out at first in their conception of things from the level of\nthe vulgar. They applied themselves diligently to the unravelling of\nwhat was unknown; wonder mingled with their contemplation; they\nabstracted their minds from things of ordinary occurrence, and, as we\nmay denominate it, of real life, till at length they lost their true\nbalance amidst the astonishment they sought to produce in their\ninferiors. They felt a vocation to things extraordinary; and they\nwillingly gave scope and line without limit to that which engendered\nin themselves the most gratifying sensations, at the same time that it\nanswered the purposes of their ambition.\n\nAs these principles in the two parties, the more refined and the\nvulgar, are universal, and derive their origin from the nature of man,\nit has necessarily happened that this faith in extraordinary events,\nand superstitious fear of what is supernatural, has diffused itself\nthrough every climate of the world, in a certain stage of human\nintellect, and while refinement had not yet got the better of\nbarbarism. The Celts of antiquity had their Druids, a branch of whose\nspecial profession was the exercise of magic. The Chaldeans and\nEgyptians had their wise men, their magicians and their sorcerers. The\nnegroes have their foretellers of events, their amulets, and their\nreporters and believers of miraculous occurrences. A similar race of\nmen was found by Columbus and the other discoverers of the New World\nin America; and facts of a parallel nature are attested to us in the\nislands of the South Seas. And, as phenomena of this sort were\nuniversal in their nature, without distinction of climate, whether\ntorrid or frozen, and independently of the discordant manners and\ncustoms of different countries, so have they been very slow and recent\nin their disappearing. Queen Elizabeth sent to consult Dr. John Dee,\nthe astrologer, respecting a lucky day for her coronation; King James\nthe First employed much of his learned leisure upon questions of\nwitchcraft and demonology, in which he fully believed and sir Matthew\nHale in the year 1664 caused two old women to be hanged upon a charge\nof unlawful communion with infernal agents.\n\nThe history of mankind therefore will be very imperfect, and our\nknowledge of the operations and eccentricities of the mind lamentably\ndeficient, unless we take into our view what has occurred under this\nhead. The supernatural appearances with which our ancestors conceived\nthemselves perpetually surrounded must have had a strong tendency to\ncherish and keep alive the powers of the imagination, and to penetrate\nthose who witnessed or expected such things with an extraordinary\nsensitiveness. As the course of events appears to us at present, there\nis much, though abstractedly within the compass of human sagacity to\nforesee, which yet the actors on the scene do not foresee: but the\nblindness and perplexity of short-sighted mortals must have been\nwonderfully increased, when ghosts and extraordinary appearances were\nconceived liable to cross the steps and confound the projects of men\nat every turn, and a malicious wizard or a powerful enchanter might\ninvolve his unfortunate victim in a chain of calamities, which no\nprudence could disarm, and no virtue could deliver him from. They were\nthe slaves of an uncontrolable destiny, and must therefore have been\neminently deficient in the perseverance and moral courage, which may\njustly be required of us in a more enlightened age. And the men (but\nthese were few compared with the great majority of mankind), who\nbelieved themselves gifted with supernatural endowments, must have\nfelt exempt and privileged from common rules, somewhat in the same way\nas the persons whom fiction has delighted to pourtray as endowed with\nimmeasurable wealth, or with the power of rendering themselves\nimpassive or invisible. But, whatever were their advantages or\ndisadvantages, at any rate it is good for us to call up in review\nthings, which are now passed away, but which once occupied so large a\nshare of the thoughts and attention of mankind, and in a great degree\ntended to modify their characters and dictate their resolutions.\n\nAs has already been said, numbers of those who were endowed with the\nhighest powers of human intellect, such as, if they had lived in these\ntimes, would have aspired to eminence in the exact sciences, to the\nloftiest flights of imagination, or to the discovery of means by which\nthe institutions of men in society might be rendered more beneficial\nand faultless, at that time wasted the midnight oil in endeavouring to\ntrace the occult qualities and virtues of things, to render invisible\nspirits subject to their command, and to effect those wonders, of\nwhich they deemed themselves to have a dim conception, but which more\nrational views of nature have taught us to regard as beyond our power\nto effect. These sublime wanderings of the mind are well entitled to\nour labour to trace and investigate. The errors of man are worthy to\nbe recorded, not only as beacons to warn us from the shelves where our\nancestors have made shipwreck, but even as something honourable to our\nnature, to show how high a generous ambition could sour, though in\nforbidden paths, and in things too wonderful for us.\n\nNor only is this subject inexpressibly interesting, as setting before\nus how the loftiest and most enterprising minds of ancient days\nformerly busied themselves. It is also of the highest importance to an\ningenuous curiosity, inasmuch as it vitally affected the fortunes of\nso considerable a portion of the mass of mankind. The legislatures of\nremote ages bent all their severity at different periods against what\nthey deemed the unhallowed arts of the sons and daughters of\nreprobation. Multitudes of human creatures have been sacrificed in\ndifferent ages and countries, upon the accusation of having exercised\narts of the most immoral and sacrilegious character. They were\nsupposed to have formed a contract with a mighty and invisible spirit,\nthe great enemy of man, and to have sold themselves, body and soul, to\neverlasting perdition, for the sake of gratifying, for a short term of\nyears, their malignant passions against those who had been so\nunfortunate as to give them cause of offence. If there were any\npersons who imagined they had entered into such a contract, however\nerroneous was their belief, they must of necessity have been greatly\ndepraved. And it was but natural that such as believed in this crime,\nmust have considered it as atrocious beyond all others, and have\nregarded those who were supposed guilty of it with inexpressible\nabhorrence. There are many instances on record, where the persons\naccused of it, either from the depth of their delusion, or, which is\nmore probable, harassed by persecution, by the hatred of their\nfellow-creatures directed against them, or by torture, actually\nconfessed themselves guilty. These instances are too numerous, not to\nconstitute an important chapter in the legislation of past ages. And,\nnow that the illusion has in a manner passed away from the face of the\nearth, we are on that account the better qualified to investigate this\nerror in its causes and consequences, and to look back on the tempest\nand hurricane from which we have escaped, with chastened feelings, and\na sounder estimate of its nature, its reign, and its effects.\n\n\n\n\nAMBITIOUS NATURE OF MAN\n\n\nMan is a creature of boundless ambition.\n\nIt is probably our natural wants that first awaken us from that\nlethargy and indifference in which man may be supposed to be plunged\npreviously to the impulse of any motive, or the accession of any\nuneasiness. One of our earliest wants may be conceived to be hunger,\nor the desire of food.\n\nFrom this simple beginning the history of man in all its complex\nvarieties may be regarded as proceeding.\n\nMan in a state of society, more especially where there is an\ninequality of condition and rank, is very often the creature of\nleisure. He finds in himself, either from internal or external\nimpulse, a certain activity. He finds himself at one time engaged in\nthe accomplishment of his obvious and immediate desires, and at\nanother in a state in which these desires have for the present been\nfulfilled, and he has no present occasion to repeat those exertions\nwhich led to their fulfilment. This is the period of contemplation.\nThis is the state which most eminently distinguishes us from the\nbrutes. Here it is that the history of man, in its exclusive sense,\nmay be considered as taking its beginning.\n\nHere it is that he specially recognises in himself the sense of power.\nPower in its simplest acceptation, may be exerted in either of two\nways, either in his procuring for himself an ample field for more\nrefined accommodations, or in the exercise of compulsion and authority\nover other living creatures. In the pursuit of either of these, and\nespecially the first, he is led to the attainment of skill and\nsuperior adroitness in the use of his faculties.\n\nNo sooner has man reached to this degree of improvement, than now, if\nnot indeed earlier, he is induced to remark the extreme limitedness of\nhis faculties in respect to the future; and he is led, first earnestly\nto desire a clearer insight into the future, and next a power of\ncommanding those external causes upon which the events of the future\ndepend. The first of these desires is the parent of divination, augury,\nchiromancy, astrology, and the consultation of oracles; and the second\nhas been the prolific source of enchantment, witchcraft, sorcery,\nmagic, necromancy, and alchemy, in its two branches, the unlimited\nprolongation of human life, and the art of converting less precious\nmetals into gold.\n\n\nHIS DESIRE TO PENETRATE INTO FUTURITY.\n\nNothing can suggest to us a more striking and stupendous idea of the\nfaculties of the human mind, than the consideration of the various\narts by which men have endeavoured to penetrate into the future, and\nto command the events of the future, in ways that in sobriety and\ntruth are entirely out of our competence. We spurn impatiently against\nthe narrow limits which the constitution of things has fixed to our\naspirings, and endeavour by a multiplicity of ways to accomplish that\nwhich it is totally beyond the power of man to effect.\n\n\nDIVINATION.\n\nDivination has been principally employed in inspecting the entrails of\nbeasts offered for sacrifice, and from their appearance drawing omens\nof the good or ill success of the enterprises in which we are about to\nengage.\n\nWhat the divination by the cup was which Joseph practised, or\npretended to practise, we do not perhaps exactly understand. We all of\nus know somewhat of the predictions, to this day resorted to by\nmaid-servants and others, from the appearance of the sediment to be\nfound at the bottom of a tea-cup. Predictions of a similar sort are\nformed from the unpremeditated way in which we get out of bed in a\nmorning, or put on our garments, from the persons or things we shall\nencounter when we first leave our chamber or go forth in the air, or\nany of the indifferent accidents of life.\n\n\nAUGURY.\n\nAugury has its foundation in observing the flight of birds, the sounds\nthey utter, their motions whether sluggish or animated, and the\navidity or otherwise with which they appear to take their food. The\ncollege of augurs was one of the most solemn institutions of ancient\nRome.\n\n\nCHIROMANCY.\n\nChiromancy, or the art of predicting the various fortunes of the\nindividual, from an inspection of the minuter variations of the lines\nto be found in the palm of the human hand, has been used perhaps at\none time or other in all the nations of the world.\n\n\nPHYSIOGNOMY.\n\nPhysiognomy is not so properly a prediction of future events, as an\nattempt to explain the present and inherent qualities of a man. By\nunfolding his propensities however, it virtually gave the world to\nunderstand the sort of proceedings in which he was most likely to\nengage. The story of Socrates and the physiognomist is sufficiently\nknown. The physiognomist having inspected the countenance of the\nphilosopher, pronounced that he was given to intemperance, sensuality,\nand violent bursts of passion, all of which was so contrary to his\ncharacter as universally known, that his disciples derided the\nphysiognomist as a vain-glorious pretender. Socrates however presently\nput them to silence, by declaring that he had had an original\npropensity to all the vices imputed to him, and had only conquered the\npropensity by dint of a severe and unremitted self-discipline.\n\n\nINTERPRETATION OF DREAMS.\n\nOneirocriticism, or the art of interpreting dreams, seems of all the\nmodes of prediction the most inseparable from the nature of man. A\nconsiderable portion of every twenty-four hours of our lives is spent\nin sleep; and in sleep nothing is at least more usual, than for the\nmind to be occupied in a thousand imaginary scenes, which for the time\nare as realities, and often excite the passions of the mind of the\nsleeper in no ordinary degree. Many of them are wild and rambling; but\nmany also have a portentous sobriety. Many seem to have a strict\nconnection with the incidents of our actual lives; and some appear as\nif they came for the very purpose to warn us of danger, or prepare us\nfor coming events. It is therefore no wonder that these occasionally\nfill our waking thoughts with a deep interest, and impress upon us an\nanxiety of which we feel it difficult to rid ourselves. Accordingly,\nin ages when men were more prone to superstition, than at present,\nthey sometimes constituted a subject of earnest anxiety and\ninquisitiveness; and we find among the earliest exercises of the art\nof prediction, the interpretation of dreams to have occupied a\nprincipal place, and to have been as it were reduced into a science.\n\n\nCASTING OF LOTS.\n\nThe casting of lots seems scarcely to come within the enumeration here\ngiven. It was intended as an appeal to heaven upon a question involved\nin uncertainty, with the idea that the supreme Ruler of the skies,\nthus appealed to, would from his omniscience supply the defect of\nhuman knowledge. Two examples, among others sufficiently remarkable,\noccur in the Bible. One of Achan, who secreted part of the spoil taken\nin Jericho, which was consecrated to the service of God, and who,\nbeing taken by lot, confessed, and was stoned to death. [1] The other\nof Jonah, upon whom the lot fell in a mighty tempest, the crew of the\nship enquiring by this means what was the cause of the calamity that\nhad overtaken them, and Jonah being in consequence cast into the sea.\n\n\nASTROLOGY.\n\nAstrology was one of the modes most anciently and universally resorted\nto for discovering the fortunes of men and nations. Astronomy and\nastrology went hand in hand, particularly among the people of the\nEast. The idea of fate was most especially bound up in this branch of\nprophecy. If the fortune of a man was intimately connected with the\nposition of the heavenly bodies, it became evident that little was\nleft to the province of his free will. The stars overruled him in all\nhis determinations; and it was in vain for him to resist them. There\nwas something flattering to the human imagination in conceiving that\nthe planets and the orbs on high were concerned in the conduct we\nshould pursue, and the events that should befal us. Man resigned\nhimself to his fate with a solemn, yet a lofty feeling, that the\nremotest portions of the universe were concerned in the catastrophe\nthat awaited him. Beside which, there was something peculiarly\nseducing in the apparently profound investigation of the professors of\nastrology. They busied themselves with the actual position of the\nheavenly bodies, their conjunctions and oppositions; and of\nconsequence there was a great apparatus of diagrams and calculation to\nwhich they were prompted to apply themselves, and which addressed\nitself to the eyes and imaginations of those who consulted them.\n\n\nORACLES.\n\nBut that which seems to have had the greatest vogue in times of\nantiquity, relative to the prediction of future events, is what is\nrecorded of oracles. Finding the insatiable curiosity of mankind as to\nwhat was to happen hereafter, and the general desire they felt to be\nguided in their conduct by an anticipation of things to come, the\npriests pretty generally took advantage of this passion, to increase\ntheir emoluments and offerings, and the more effectually to inspire\nthe rest of their species with veneration and a willing submission to\ntheir authority. The oracle was delivered in a temple, or some sacred\nplace; and in this particular we plainly discover that mixture of\nnature and art, of genuine enthusiasm and contriving craft, which is\nso frequently exemplified in the character of man.\n\n\nDELPHI.\n\nThe oracle of Apollo at Delphi is the most remarkable; and respecting\nit we are furnished with the greatest body of particulars. The\nlocality of this oracle is said to have been occasioned by the\nfollowing circumstance. A goat-herd fed his flocks on the acclivity of\nmount Parnassus. As the animals wandered here and there in pursuit of\nfood, they happened to approach a deep and long chasm which appeared\nin the rock. From this chasm a vapour issued; and the goats had no\nsooner inhaled a portion of the vapour, than they began to play and\nfrisk about with singular agility. The goat-herd, observing this, and\ncurious to discover the cause, held his head over the chasm; when, in\na short time, the fumes having ascended to his brain, he threw himself\ninto a variety of strange attitudes, and uttered words, which probably\nhe did not understand himself, but which were supposed to convey a\nprophetic meaning.\n\nThis phenomenon was taken advantage of, and a temple to Apollo was\nerected on the spot. The credulous many believed that here was\nobviously a centre and focus of divine inspiration. On this mountain\nApollo was said to have slain the serpent Python. The apartment of the\noracle was immediately over the chasm from which the vapour issued. A\npriestess delivered the responses, who was called Pythia, probably in\ncommemoration of the exploit which had been performed by Apollo. She\nsat upon a tripod, or three-legged stool, perforated with holes, over\nthe seat of the vapours. After a time, her figure enlarged itself, her\nhair stood on end, her complexion and features became altered, her\nheart panted and her bosom swelled, and her voice grew more than\nhuman. In this condition she uttered a number of wild and incoherent\nphrases, which were supposed to be dictated by the God. The questions\nwhich were offered by those who came to consult the oracle were then\nproposed to her, and her answers taken down by the priest, whose\noffice was to arrange and methodize them, and put them into hexameter\nverse, after which they were delivered to the votaries. The priestess\ncould only be consulted on one day in every month.\n\nGreat ingenuity and contrivance were no doubt required to uphold the\ncredit of the oracle; and no less boldness and self-collectedness on\nthe part of those by whom the machinery was conducted. Like the\nconjurors of modern times, they took care to be extensively informed\nas to all such matters respecting which the oracle was likely to be\nconsulted. They listened probably to the Pythia with a superstitious\nreverence for the incoherent sentences she uttered. She, like them,\nspent her life in being trained for the office to which she was\ndevoted. All that was rambling and inapplicable in her wild\ndeclamation they consigned to oblivion. Whatever seemed to bear on the\nquestion proposed they preserved. The persons by whom the responses\nwere digested into hexameter verse, had of course a commission\nattended with great discretionary power. They, as Horace remarks on\nanother occasion, [2] divided what it was judicious to say, from what\nit was prudent to omit, dwelt upon one thing, and slurred over and\naccommodated another, just as would best suit the purpose they had in\nhand. Beside this, for the most part they clothed the apparent meaning\nof the oracle in obscurity, and often devised sentences of ambiguous\ninterpretation, that might suit with opposite issues, whichever might\nhappen to fall out. This was perfectly consistent with a high degree\nof enthusiasm on the part of the priest. However confident he might be\nin some things, he could not but of necessity feel that his\nprognostics were surrounded with uncertainty. Whatever decisions of\nthe oracle were frustrated by the event, and we know that there were\nmany of this sort, were speedily forgotten; while those which\nsucceeded, were conveyed from shore to shore, and repeated by every\necho. Nor is it surprising that the transmitters of the sentences of\nthe God should in time arrive at an extraordinary degree of sagacity\nand skill. The oracles accordingly reached to so high a degree of\nreputation, that, as Cicero observes, no expedition for a long time\nwas undertaken, no colony sent out, and often no affair of any\ndistinguished family or individual entered on, without the previously\nobtaining their judgment and sanction. Their authority in a word was\nso high, that the first fathers of the Christian church could no\notherwise account for a reputation thus universally received, than by\nsupposing that the devils were permitted by God Almighty to inform the\noracles with a more than human prescience, that all the world might be\nconcluded in idolatry and unbelief, [3] and the necessity of a Saviour\nbe made more apparent. The gullibility of man is one of the most\nprominent features of our nature. Various periods and times, when\nwhole nations have as it were with one consent run into the most\nincredible and the grossest absurdities, perpetually offer themselves\nin the page of history; and in the records of remote antiquity it\nplainly appears that such delusions continued through successive\ncenturies.\n\n\nTHE DESIRE TO COMMAND AND CONTROL FUTURE EVENTS.\n\nNext to the consideration of those measures by which men have sought\nto dive into the secrets of future time, the question presents itself\nof those more daring undertakings, the object of which has been by\nsome supernatural power to control the future, and place it in\nsubjection to the will of the unlicensed adventurer. Men have always,\nespecially in ages of ignorance, and when they most felt their\nindividual weakness, figured to themselves an invisible strength\ngreater than their own; and, in proportion to their impatience, and\nthe fervour of their desires, have sought to enter into a league with\nthose beings whose mightier force might supply that in which their\nweakness failed.\n\n\nCOMMERCE WITH THE INVISIBLE WORLD.\n\nIt is an essential feature of different ages and countries to vary\nexceedingly in the good or ill construction, the fame or dishonour,\nwhich shall attend upon the same conduct or mode of behaviour. In\nEgypt and throughout the East, especially in the early periods of\nhistory, the supposed commerce with invisible powers was openly\nprofessed, which, under other circumstances, and during the reign of\ndifferent prejudices, was afterwards carefully concealed, and\nbarbarously hunted out of the pale of allowed and authorised practice.\nThe Magi of old, who claimed a power of producing miraculous\nappearances, and boasted a familiar intercourse with the world of\nspirits, were regarded by  their countrymen with peculiar reverence,\nand considered as the first and chiefest men in the state. For this\nmitigated view of such dark and mysterious proceedings the ancients\nwere in a great degree indebted to their polytheism. The Romans are\ncomputed to have acknowledged thirty thousand divinities, to all of\nwhom was rendered a legitimate homage; and other countries in a\nsimilar proportion.\n\n\nSORCERY AND ENCHANTMENT.\n\nIn Asia, however, the Gods were divided into two parties, under\nOromasdes, the principle of good, and Arimanius, the principle of\nevil. These powers were in perpetual contention with each other,\nsometimes the one, and sometimes the other gaining the superiority.\nArimanius and his legions were therefore scarcely considered as\nentitled to the homage of mankind. Those who were actuated by\nbenevolence, and who desired to draw down blessings upon their\nfellow-creatures, addressed themselves to the principle of good; while\nsuch unhappy beings, with whom spite and ill-will had the\npredominance, may be supposed often to have invoked in preference the\nprinciple of evil. Hence seems to have originated the idea of sorcery,\nor an appeal by incantations and wicked arts to the demons who\ndelighted in mischief.\n\nThese beings rejoiced in the opportunity of inflicting calamity and\nmisery on mankind. But by what we read of them we might be induced to\nsuppose that they were in some way restrained from gratifying their\nmalignant intentions, and waited in eager hope, till some mortal\nreprobate should call out their dormant activity, and demand their\naid.\n\nVarious enchantments were therefore employed by those unhappy mortals\nwhose special desire was to bring down calamity and plagues upon the\nindividuals or tribes of men against whom their animosity was\ndirected. Unlawful and detested words and mysteries were called into\naction to conjure up demons who should yield their powerful and\ntremendous assistance. Songs of a wild and maniacal character were\nchaunted. Noisome scents and the burning of all unhallowed and odious\nthings were resorted to. In later times books and formulas of a\nterrific character were commonly employed, upon the reading or recital\nof which the prodigies resorted to began to display themselves. The\nheavens were darkened; the thunder rolled; and fierce and blinding\nlightnings flashed from one corner of the heavens to the other. The\nearth quaked and rocked from side to side. All monstrous and deformed\nthings shewed themselves, \"Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimeras dire,\"\nenough to cause the stoutest heart to quail. Lastly, devils, whose\nname was legion, and to whose forms and distorted and menacing\ncountenances superstition had annexed the most frightful ideas,\ncrowded in countless multitudes upon the spectator, whose breath was\nflame, whose dances were full of terror, and whose strength infinitely\nexceeded every thing human. Such were the appalling conceptions which\nages of bigotry and ignorance annexed to the notion of sorcery, and\nwith these they scared the unhappy beings over whom this notion had\nusurped an ascendancy into lunacy, and prepared them for the\nperpetrating flagitious and unheard-of deeds.\n\nThe result of these horrible incantations was not less tremendous,\nthan the preparations might have led us to expect. The demons\npossessed all the powers of the air, and produced tempests and\nshipwrecks at their pleasure. \"Castles toppled on their warder's\nheads, and palaces and pyramids sloped their summits to their\nfoundations;\" forests and mountains were torn from their roots, and\ncast into the sea. They inflamed the passions of men, and caused them\nto commit the most unheard-of excesses. They laid their ban on those\nwho enjoyed the most prosperous health, condemned them to peak and\npine, wasted them into a melancholy atrophy, and finally consigned\nthem to a premature grave. They breathed a new and unblest life into\nbeings in whom existence had long been extinct, and by their hateful\nand resistless power caused the sepulchres to give up their dead.\n\n\nWITCHCRAFT.\n\nNext to sorcery we may recollect the case of witchcraft, which occurs\noftener, particularly in modern times, than any other alleged mode of\nchanging by supernatural means the future course of events. The\nsorcerer, as we shall see hereafter, was frequently a man of learning\nand intellectual abilities, sometimes of comparative opulence and\nrespectable situation in society. But the witch or wizard was almost\nuniformly old, decrepid, and nearly or altogether in a state of\npenury. The functions however of the witch and the sorcerer were in a\ngreat degree the same. The earliest account of a witch, attended with\nany degree of detail, is that of the witch of Endor in the Bible, who\namong other things, professed the power of calling up the dead upon\noccasion from the peace of the sepulchre. Witches also claimed the\nfaculty of raising storms, and in various ways disturbing the course\nof nature. They appear in most cases to have been brought into action\nby the impulse of private malice. They occasioned mortality of greater\nor less extent in man and beast. They blighted the opening prospect of\na plentiful harvest. They covered the heavens with clouds, and sent\nabroad withering and malignant blasts. They undermined the health of\nthose who were so unfortunate as to incur their animosity, and caused\nthem to waste away gradually with incurable disease. They were\nnotorious two or three centuries ago for the power of the \"evil eye.\"\nThe vulgar, both great and small, dreaded their displeasure, and\nsought, by small gifts, and fair speeches, but insincere, and the\noffspring of terror only, to avert the pernicious consequences of\ntheir malice. They were famed for fabricating small images of wax, to\nrepresent the object of their persecution; and, as these by gradual\nand often studiously protracted degrees wasted before the fire, so the\nunfortunate butts of their resentment perished with a lingering, but\ninevitable death.\n\n\nCOMPACTS WITH THE DEVIL.\n\nThe power of these witches, as we find in their earliest records,\noriginated in their intercourse with \"familiar spirits,\" invisible\nbeings who must be supposed to be enlisted in the armies of the prince\nof darkness. We do not read in these ancient memorials of any league\nof mutual benefit entered into between the merely human party, and his\nor her supernatural assistant. But modern times have amply supplied\nthis defect. The witch or sorcerer could not secure the assistance of\nthe demon but by a sure and faithful compact, by which the human party\nobtained the industrious and vigilant service of his familiar for a\ncertain term of years, only on condition that, when the term was\nexpired, the demon of undoubted right was to obtain possession of the\nindentured party, and to convey him irremissibly and for ever to the\nregions of the damned. The contract was drawn out in authentic form,\nsigned by the sorcerer, and attested with his blood, and was then\ncarried away by the demon, to be produced again at the appointed time.\n\n\nIMPS.\n\nThese familiar spirits often assumed the form of animals, and a black\ndog or cat was considered as a figure in which the attendant devil was\nsecretly hidden. These subordinate devils were called Imps. Impure and\ncarnal ideas were mingled with these theories. The witches were said\nto have preternatural teats from which their familiars sucked their\nblood. The devil also engaged in sexual intercourse with the witch or\nwizard, being denominated _incubus_, if his favourite were a\nwoman, and _succubus_, if a man. In short, every frightful and\nloathsome idea was carefully heaped up together, to render the\nunfortunate beings to whom the crime of witchcraft was imputed the\nhorror and execration of their species.\n\n\nTALISMANS AND AMULETS.\n\nAs according to the doctrine of witchcraft, there were certain\ncompounds, and matters prepared by rules of art, that proved baleful\nand deadly to the persons against whom their activity was directed, so\nthere were also preservatives, talismans, amulets and charms, for the\nmost [Errata: _read_ for the most part] to be worn about the\nperson, which rendered him superior to injury, not only from the\noperations of witchcraft, but in some cases from the sword or any\nother mortal weapon. As the poet says, he that had this,\n\n  Might trace huge forests and unhallowed heaths,--\n  Yea there, where very desolation dwells,\n  By grots and caverns shagged with horrid shades,\n\nnay, in the midst of every tremendous assailant, \"might pass on with\nunblenched majesty,\" uninjured and invulnerable.\n\n\nNECROMANCY.\n\nLast of all we may speak of necromancy, which has something in it that\nso strongly takes hold of the imagination, that, though it is one only\nof the various modes which have been enumerated for the exorcise of\nmagical power, we have selected it to give a title to the present\nvolume.\n\nThere is something sacred to common apprehension in the repose of the\ndead. They seem placed beyond our power to disturb. \"There is no work,\nnor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave.\"\n\n  After life's fitful fever they sleep well:\n  Nor steel, nor poison,\n  Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,\n  Can touch them further.\n\nTheir remains moulder in the earth. Neither form nor feature is long\ncontinued to them. We shrink from their touch, and their sight. To\nviolate the sepulchre therefore for the purpose of unholy spells and\noperations, as we read of in the annals of witchcraft, cannot fail to\nbe exceedingly shocking. To call up the spirits of the departed, after\nthey have fulfilled the task of life, and are consigned to their final\nsleep, is sacrilegious. Well may they exclaim, like the ghost of\nSamuel in the sacred story, \"Why hast thou disquieted me?\"\n\nThere is a further circumstance in the case, which causes us\nadditionally to revolt from the very idea of necromancy, strictly so\ncalled. Man is a mortal, or an immortal being. His frame either wholly\n\"returns to the earth as it was, or his spirit,\" the thinking\nprinciple within him, \"to God who gave it.\" The latter is the\nprevailing sentiment of mankind in modern times. Man is placed upon\nearth in a state of probation, to be dealt with hereafter according to\nthe deeds done in the flesh. \"Some shall go away into everlasting\npunishment; and others into life eternal.\" In this case there is\nsomething blasphemous in the idea of intermedding with the state of\nthe dead. We must leave them in the hands of God. Even on the idea of\nan interval, the \"sleep of the soul\" from death to the general\nresurrection, which is the creed of no contemptible sect of\nChristians, it is surely a terrific notion that we should disturb the\npause, which upon that hypothesis, the laws of nature have assigned to\nthe departed soul, and come to awake, or to \"torment him before the\ntime.\"\n\n\nALCHEMY.\n\nTo make our catalogue of supernatural doings, and the lawless\nimaginations of man, the more complete, it may be further necessary to\nrefer to the craft, so eagerly cultivated in successive ages of the\nworld of converting the inferior metals into gold, to which was\nusually joined the _elixir vitae_, or universal medicine, having\nthe quality of renewing the youth of man, and causing him to live for\never. The first authentic record on this subject is an edict of\nDioclesian about three hundred years after Christ, ordering a diligent\nsearch to be made in Egypt for all the ancient books which treated of\nthe art of making gold and silver, that they might without distinction\nbe consigned to the flames. This edict however necessarily presumes a\ncertain antiquity to the pursuit; and fabulous history has recorded\nSolomon, Pythagoras and Hermes among its distinguished votaries. From\nthis period the study seems to have slept, till it was revived among\nthe Arabians after a lapse of five or six hundred years.\n\nIt is well known however how eagerly it was cultivated in various\ncountries of the world for many centuries after it was divulged by\nGeber. Men of the most wonderful talents devoted their lives to the\ninvestigation; and in multiplied instances the discovery was said to\nhave been completed. Vast sums of money were consumed in the fruitless\nendeavour; and in a later period it seems to have furnished an\nexcellent handle to vain and specious projectors, to extort money from\nthose more amply provided with the goods of fortune than themselves.\n\nThe art no doubt is in itself sufficiently mystical, having been\npursued by multitudes, who seemed to themselves ever on the eve of\nconsummation, but as constantly baffled when to their own apprehension\nmost on the verge of success. The discovery indeed appears upon the\nface of it to be of the most delicate nature, as the benefit must\nwholly depend upon its being reserved to one or a very few, the object\nbeing unbounded wealth, which is nothing unless confined. If the power\nof creating gold is diffused, wealth by such diffusion becomes\npoverty, and every thing after a short time would but return to what\nit had been. Add to which, that the nature of discovery has ordinarily\nbeen, that, when once the clue has been found, it reveals itself to\nseveral about the same period of time.\n\nThe art, as we have said, is in its own nature sufficiently mystical,\ndepending on nice combinations and proportions of ingredients, and\nupon the addition of each ingredient being made exactly in the\ncritical moment, and in the precise degree of heat, indicated by the\ncolour of the vapour arising from the crucible or retort. This was\nwatched by the operator with inexhaustible patience; and it was often\nfound or supposed, that the minutest error in this respect caused the\nmost promising appearances to fail of the expected success. This\ncircumstance no doubt occasionally gave an opportunity to an artful\nimpostor to account for his miscarriage, and thus to prevail upon his\ncredulous dupe to enable him to begin his tedious experiment again.\n\nBut, beside this, it appears that those whose object was the\ntransmutation of metals, very frequently joined to this pursuit the\nstudy of astrology, and even the practice of sorcery. So much delicacy\nand nicety were supposed to be required in the process for the\ntransmutation of metals, that it could not hope to succeed but under a\nfavourable conjunction of the planets; and the most flourishing\npretenders to the art boasted that they had also a familiar\nintercourse with certain spirits of supernatural power, which assisted\nthem in their undertakings, and enabled them to penetrate into things\nundiscoverable to mere human sagacity, and to predict future events.\n\n\nFAIRIES.\n\nAnother mode in which the wild and erratic imagination of our\nancestors manifested itself, was in the creation of a world of\nvisionary beings of a less terrific character, but which did not fail\nto annoy their thoughts, and perplex their determinations, known by\nthe name of Fairies.\n\nThere are few things more worthy of contemplation, and that at the\nsame time tend to place the dispositions of our ancestors in a more\namiable point of view, than the creation of this airy and fantastic\nrace. They were so diminutive as almost to elude the organs of human\nsight. They were at large, even though confined to the smallest\ndimensions. They \"could be bounded in a nutshell, and count themselves\nkings of infinite space.\"\n\n  Their midnight revels, by a forest-side\n  Or fountain, the belated peasant saw,\n  Or dreamed he saw, while overhead the moon\n  Sat arbitress, and nearer to the earth\n  Wheeled her pale course--they, on their mirth and dance\n  Intent, with jocund music charmed his ear;\n  At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.\n\nSmall circles marked the grass in solitary places, the trace of their\nlittle feet, which, though narrow, were ample enough to afford every\naccommodation to their pastime.\n\nThe fairy tribes appear to have been every where distinguished for\ntheir patronage of truth, simplicity and industry, and their\nabhorrence of sensuality and prevarication. They left little rewards\nin secret, as tokens of their approbation of the virtues they loved,\nand by their supernatural power afforded a supplement to pure and\nexcellent intentions, when the corporeal powers of the virtuous sank\nunder the pressure of human infirmity. Where they conceived\ndispleasure, the punishments they inflicted were for the most part\nsuch as served moderately to vex and harass the offending party,\nrather than to inflict upon him permanent and irremediable evils.\n\n  Their airy tongues would syllable men's names\n  On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses.\n\nThey were supposed to guide the wandering lights, that in the\nobscurity of the night beguiled the weary traveller \"through bog,\nthrough bush, through brake, through briar.\" But their power of evil\nonly extended, or was only employed, to vex those who by a certain\nobliquity of conduct gave occasion for their reproofs. They besides\npinched and otherwise tormented the objects of their displeasure; and,\nthough the mischiefs they executed were not of the most vital kind,\nyet, coming from a supernatural enemy, and being inflicted by\ninvisible hands, they could not fail greatly to disturb and disorder\nthose who suffered from them.\n\nThere is at first sight a great inconsistency in the representations\nof these imaginary people. For the most part they are described to us\nas of a stature and appearance, almost too slight to be marked by our\ngrosser human organs. At other times however, and especially in the\nextremely popular tales digested by M. Perrault, they shew themselves\nin indiscriminate assemblies, brought together for some solemn\nfestivity or otherwise, and join the human frequenters of the scene,\nwithout occasioning enquiry or surprise. They are particularly\nconcerned in the business of summarily and without appeal bestowing\nmiraculous gifts, sometimes as a mark of special friendship and\nfavour, and sometimes with a malicious and hostile intention.--But we\nare to consider that spirits\n\n  Can every form assume; so soft\n  And uncompounded is their essence pure;\n  Not tied or manacled with joint or limb,\n  Like cumbrous flesh; but, in what shape they choose,\n  Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure,\n  Can execute their airy purposes,\n  And works of love or enmity fulfil.\n\nAnd then again, as their bounties were shadowy, so were they specially\napt to disappear in a moment, the most splendid palaces and\nmagnificent exhibitions vanishing away, and leaving their disconcerted\ndupe with his robes converted into the poorest rags, and, instead of\nglittering state, finding himself suddenly in the midst of desolation,\nand removed no man knew whither.\n\nOne of the mischiefs that were most frequently imputed to them, was\nthe changing the beautiful child of some doating parents, for a babe\nmarked with ugliness and deformity. But this idea seems fraught with\ninconsistency. The natural stature of the fairy is of the smallest\ndimensions; and, though they could occasionally dilate their figure so\nas to imitate humanity, yet it is to be presumed that this was only\nfor a special purpose, and, that purpose obtained, that they shrank\nagain habitually into their characteristic littleness. The change\ntherefore can only be supposed to have been of one human child for\nanother.\n\n\nROSICRUCIANS.\n\nNothing very distinct has been ascertained respecting a sect, calling\nitself Rosicrucians. It is said to have originated in the East from\none of the crusaders in the fourteenth century; but it attracted at\nleast no public notice till the beginning of the seventeenth century.\nIts adherents appear to have imbibed their notions from the Arabians,\nand claimed the possession of the philosopher's stone, the art of\ntransmuting metals, and the _elixir vitae_.\n\n\nSYLPHS AND GNOMES, SALAMANDERS AND UNDINES.\n\nBut that for which they principally excited public attention, was\ntheir creed respecting certain elementary beings, which to grosser\neyes are invisible, but were familiarly known to the initiated. To be\nadmitted to their acquaintance it was previously necessary that the\norgans of human sight should be purged by the universal medicine, and\nthat certain glass globes should be chemically prepared with one or\nother of the four elements, and for one month exposed to the beams of\nthe sun. These preliminary steps being taken, the initiated\nimmediately had a sight of innumerable beings of a luminous substance,\nbut of thin and evanescent structure, that people the elements on all\nsides of us. Those who inhabited the air were called Sylphs; and those\nwho dwelt in the earth bore the name of Gnomes; such as peopled the\nfire were Salamanders; and those who made their home in the waters\nwere Undines. Each class appears to have had an extensive power in the\nelements to which they belonged. They could raise tempests in the air,\nand storms at sea, shake the earth, and alarm the inhabitants of the\nglobe with the sight of devouring flames. These appear however to have\nbeen more formidable in appearance than in reality. And the whole race\nwas subordinate to man, and particularly subject to the initiated. The\ngnomes, inhabitants of the earth and the mines, liberally supplied to\nthe human beings with whom they conversed, the hidden treasures over\nwhich they presided. The four classes were some of them male, and some\nfemale; but the female sex seems to have preponderated in all.\n\nThese elementary beings, we are told, were by their constitution more\nlong-lived than man, but with this essential disadvantage, that at\ndeath they wholly ceased to exist. In the mean time they were inspired\nwith an earnest desire for immortality; and there was one way left for\nthem, by which this desire might be gratified. If they were so happy\nas to awaken in any of the initiated a passion the end of which was\nmarriage, then the sylph who became the bride of a virtuous man,\nfollowed his nature, and became immortal; while on the other hand, if\nshe united herself to an immoral being and a profligate, the husband\nfollowed the law of the wife, and was rendered entirely mortal. The\ninitiated however were required, as a condition to their being\nadmitted into the secrets of the order, to engage themselves in a vow\nof perpetual chastity as to women. And they were abundantly rewarded\nby the probability of being united to a sylph, a gnome, a salamander,\nor an undine, any one of whom was inexpressibly more enchanting than\nthe most beautiful woman, in addition to which her charms were in a\nmanner perpetual, while a wife of our own nature is in a short time\ndestined to wrinkles, and all the other disadvantages of old age. The\ninitiated of course enjoyed a beatitude infinitely greater than that\nwhich falls to the lot of ordinary mortals, being conscious of a\nperpetual commerce with these wonderful beings from whose society the\nvulgar are debarred, and having such associates unintermittedly\nanxious to perform their behests, and anticipate their desires. [4]\n\nWe should have taken but an imperfect survey of the lawless\nextravagancies of human imagination, if we had not included a survey\nof this sect. There is something particularly soothing to the fancy of\nan erratic mind, in the conception of being conversant with a race of\nbeings the very existence of which is unperceived by ordinary mortals,\nand thus entering into an infinitely numerous and variegated society,\neven when we are apparently swallowed up in entire solitude.\n\nThe Rosicrucians are further entitled to our special notice, as their\ntenets have had the good fortune to furnish Pope with the beautiful\nmachinery with which he has adorned the Rape of the Lock. There is\nalso, of much later date, a wild and poetical fiction for which we are\nindebted to the same source, called Undine, from the pen of Lamotte\nFouquet.\n\n\n\n\nEXAMPLES OF NECROMANCY AND WITCHCRAFT FROM THE BIBLE.\n\n\nThe oldest and most authentic record from which we can derive our\nideas on the subject of necromancy and witchcraft, unquestionably is\nthe Bible. The Egyptians and Chaldeans were early distinguished for\ntheir supposed proficiency in magic, in the production of supernatural\nphenomena, and in penetrating into the secrets of future time. The\nfirst appearance of men thus extraordinarily gifted, or advancing\npretensions of this sort, recorded in Scripture, is on occasion of\nPharoah's dream of the seven years of plenty, and seven years of\nfamine. At that period the king \"sent and called for all the magicians\nof Egypt and all the wise men; but they could not interpret the\ndream,\" [5] which Joseph afterwards expounded.\n\nTheir second appearance was upon a most memorable occasion, when Moses\nand Aaron, armed with miraculous powers, came to a subsequent king of\nEgypt, to demand from him that their countrymen might be permitted to\ndepart to another tract of the world. They produced a miracle as the\nevidence of their divine mission: and the king, who was also named\nPharoah, \"called before him the wise men and the sorcerers of Egypt,\nwho with their enchantments did in like manner\" as Moses had done;\ntill, after some experiments in which they were apparently successful,\nthey at length were compelled to allow themselves overcome, and fairly\nto confess to their master, \"This is the finger of God!\" [6]\n\nThe spirit of the Jewish history loudly affirms, that the Creator of\nheaven and earth had adopted this nation for his chosen people, and\ntherefore demanded their exclusive homage, and that they should\nacknowledge no other God. It is on this principle that it is made one\nof his early commands to them, \"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to\nlive.\" [7] And elsewhere the meaning of this prohibition is more fully\nexplained: \"There shall not be found among you any one that useth\ndivination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch, or a\ncharmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a\nnecromancer: [8] these shall surely be put to death; they shall stone\nthem with stones.\" [9]\n\nThe character of an enchanter is elsewhere more fully illustrated in\nthe case of Balaam, the soothsayer, who was sent for by Balak, the\nking of Moab, that he might \"curse the people of Israel. The\nmessengers of the king came to Balaam with the rewards of divination\nin their hand;\" [10] but the soothsayer was restrained from his\npurpose by the God of the Jews, and, where he came to curse, was\ncompelled to bless. He therefore \"did not go, as at other times, to\nseek for enchantments,\" [11] but took up his discourse, and began,\nsaying, \"Surely there is no enchantment against Jacob, neither is\nthere any divination against Israel!\" [12]\n\nAnother example of necromantic power or pretension is to be found in\nthe story of Saul and the witch of Endor. Saul, the first king of the\nJews, being rejected by God, and obtaining \"no answer to his\nenquiries, either by dreams, or by prophets, said to his servants,\nseek me a woman that has a familiar spirit. And his servants, said,\nLo, there is a woman that has a familiar spirit at Endor.\" Saul\naccordingly had recourse to her. But, previously to this time, in\nconformity to the law of God, he \"had cut off those that had familiar\nspirits, and the wizards out of the land;\" and the woman therefore was\nterrified at his present application. Saul re-assured her; and in\nconsequence the woman consented to call up the person he should name.\nSaul demanded of her to bring up the ghost of Samuel. The ghost,\nwhether by her enchantments or through divine interposition we are not\ntold, appeared, and prophesied to Saul, that he and his son should\nfall in battle on the succeeding day, [13] which accordingly came to\npass.\n\nManasseh, a subsequent king in Jerusalem, \"observed times, and used\nenchantments, and dealt with familiar spirits and wizards, and so\nprovoked God to anger.\" [14]\n\nIt appears plainly from the same authority, that there were good\nspirits and evil spirits, \"The Lord said, Who shall persuade Ahab,\nthat he may go up, and fall before Ramoth Gilead? And there came a\nspirit, and stood before the Lord, and said, I will persuade him: I\nwill go forth, and be a lying spirit in the mouth of all his prophets.\nAnd the Lord said, Thou shall persuade him.\" [15]\n\nIn like manner, we are told, \"Satan stood up against Israel, and\nprovoked David to number the people; and God was displeased with the\nthing, and smote Israel, so that there fell of the people seventy\nthousand men.\" [16]\n\nSatan also, in the Book of Job, presented himself before the Lord\namong the Sons of God, and asked and obtained leave to try the\nfaithfulness of Job by \"putting forth his hand,\" and despoiling the\npatriarch of \"all that he had.\"\n\nTaking these things into consideration, there can be no reasonable\ndoubt, though the devil and Satan are not mentioned in the story, that\nthe serpent who in so crafty a way beguiled Eve, was in reality no\nother than the malevolent enemy of mankind under that disguise.\n\nWe are in the same manner informed of the oracles of the false Gods;\nand an example occurs of a king of Samaria, who fell sick, and who\n\"sent messengers, and said to them, Go, and enquire of Baalzebub, the\nGod of Ekron, whether I shall recover of this disease.\" At which\nproceeding the God of the Jews was displeased, and sent Elijah to the\nmessengers to say, \"Is it because there is not a God in Israel, that\nyou go to enquire of Baalzebub, the God of Ekron? Because the king has\ndone this, he shall not recover; he shall surely die.\" [17]\n\nThe appearance of the Wise Men of the East again occurs in considerable\ndetail in the Prophecy of Daniel, though they are only brought forward\nthere, as discoverers of hidden things, and interpreters of dreams.\nTwice, on occasion of dreams that troubled him, Nebuchadnezzar, king\nof Babylon, \"commanded to be called to him the magicians, and the\nastrologers, and the sorcerers, and the Chaldeans\" of his kingdom, and\neach time with similar success. They confessed their incapacity; and\nDaniel, the prophet of the Jews, expounded to the king that in which\nthey had failed. Nebuchadnezzar in consequence promoted Daniel to be\nmaster of the magicians. A similar scene occurred in the court of\nBelshazzar, the son of Nebuchadnezzar, in the case of the hand-writing\non the wall.\n\nIt is probable that the Jews considered the Gods of the nations around\nthem as so many of the fallen angels, or spirits of hell, since, among\nother arguments, the coincidence of the name of Beelzebub, the prince\nof devils, [18] with Baalzebub, the God of Ekron, could scarcely have\nfallen out by chance.\n\nIt seemed necessary to enter into these particulars, as they occur in\nthe oldest and most authentic records from which we can derive our\nideas on the subject of necromancy, witchcraft, and the claims that\nwere set up in ancient times to the exercise of magcial power. Among\nthese examples there is only one, that of the contention for\nsuperiority between Moses and the Wise Men of Egypt in which we are\npresented with their pretensions to a visible exhibition of\nsupernatural effects.\n\n\nTHE MAGI, OR WISE MEN OF THE EAST.\n\nThe Magi, or Wise Men of the East, extended their ramifications over\nEgypt, Babylonia, Persia, India, and probably, though with a different\nname, over China, and indeed the whole known world. Their profession\nwas of a mysterious nature. They laid claim to a familiar intercourse\nwith the Gods. They placed themselves as mediators between heaven and\nearth, assumed the prerogative of revealing the will of beings of a\nnature superior to man, and pretended to show wonders and prodigies\nthat surpassed any power which was merely human.\n\nTo understand this, we must bear in mind the state of knowledge in\nancient times, where for the most part the cultivation of the mind,\nand an acquaintance with either science or art, were confined to a\nvery small part of the population. In each of the nations we have\nmentioned, there was a particular caste or tribe of men, who, by the\nprerogative of their birth, were entitled to the advantages of science\nand a superior education, while the rest of their countrymen were\ndestined to subsist by manual labour. This of necessity gave birth in\nthe privileged few to an overweening sense of their own importance.\nThey scarcely regarded the rest of their countrymen as beings of the\nsame species with themselves; and, finding a strong line of distinction\ncutting them off from the herd, they had recourse to every practicable\nmethod for making that distinction still stronger. Wonder is one of\nthe most obvious means of generating deference; and, by keeping to\nthemselves the grounds and process of their skill, and presenting the\nresults only, they were sure to excite the admiration and reverence of\ntheir contemporaries. This mode of proceeding further produced a\nre-action upon themselves. That which supplied and promised to supply\nto them so large a harvest of honour and fame, unavoidably became\nprecious in their eyes. They pursued their discoveries with avidity,\nbecause few had access to their opportunities in that respect, and\nbecause, the profounder were their researches, the more sure they were\nof being looked up to by the public as having that in them which was\nsacred and inviolable. They spent their days and nights in these\ninvestigations. They shrank from no privation and labour. At the same\ntime that in these labours they had at all times an eye to their\ndarling object, an ascendancy over the minds of their countrymen at\nlarge, and the extorting from them a blind and implicit deference to\ntheir oracular decrees. They however loved their pursuits for the\npursuits themselves. They felt their abstraction and their unlimited\nnature, and on that account contemplated them with admiration. They\nvalued them (for such is the indestructible character of the human\nmind) for the pains they had bestowed on them. The sweat of their brow\ngrew into a part as it were of the intrinsic merit of the articles;\nand that which had with so much pains been attained by them, they\ncould not but regard as of inestimable worth.\n\n\nEGYPT.\n\nThe Egyptians took the lead in early antiquity, with respect to\ncivilisation and the stupendous productions of human labour and art,\nof all other known nations of the world. The pyramids stand by\nthemselves as a monument of the industry of mankind. Thebes, with her\nhundred gates, at each of which we are told she could send out at once\ntwo hundred chariots and ten thousand warriors completely accoutred,\nwas one of the noblest cities on record. The whole country of Lower\nEgypt was intersected with canals giving a beneficent direction to the\nperiodical inundations of the Nile; and the artificial lake Moeris was\ndug of a vast extent, that it might draw off the occasional excesses\nof the overflowings of the river. The Egyptians had an extraordinary\ncustom of preserving their dead, so that the country was peopled\nalmost as numerously with mummies prepared by extreme assiduity and\nskill, as with the living.\n\nAnd, in proportion to their edifices and labours of this durable sort,\nwas their unwearied application to all the learning that was then\nknown. Geometry is said to have owed its existence to the necessity\nunder which they were placed of every man recognising his own property\nin land, as soon as the overflowings of the Nile had ceased. They were\nnot less assiduous in their application to astronomy. The hieroglyphics\nof Egypt are of universal notoriety. Their mythology was of the most\ncomplicated nature. Their Gods were infinitely varied in their kind;\nand the modes of their worship not less endlessly diversified. All\nthese particulars still contributed to the abstraction of their\nstudies, and the loftiness of their pretensions to knowledge. They\nperpetually conversed with the invisible world, and laid claim to the\nfaculty of revealing things hidden, of foretelling future events, and\ndisplaying wonders that exceeded human power to produce.\n\nA striking illustration of the state of Egypt in that respect in early\ntimes, occurs incidentally in the history of Joseph in the Bible. Jacob\nhad twelve sons, among whom his partiality for Joseph was so notorious,\nthat his brethren out of envy sold him as a slave to the wandering\nMidianites. Thus it was his fortune to be placed in Egypt, where in\nthe process of events he became the second man in the country, and\nchief minister of the king. A severe famine having visited these\nclimates, Jacob sent his sons into Egypt to buy corn, where only it\nwas to be found. As soon as Joseph saw them, he knew them, though they\nknew not him in his exalted situation; and he set himself to devise\nexpedients to settle them permanently in the country in which he\nruled. Among the rest he caused a precious cup from his stores to be\nprivily conveyed into the corn-sack of Benjamin, his only brother by\nthe same mother. The brothers were no sooner departed, than Joseph\nsent in pursuit of them; and the messengers accosted them with the\nwords, \"Is not this the cup in which my lord drinketh, and whereby\nalso he divineth? Ye have done evil in taking it away.\" [19] They\nbrought the strangers again into the presence of Joseph, who addressed\nthem with severity, saying, \"What is this deed that ye have done? Wot\nye not that such a man as I could certainly divine?\" [20]\n\nFrom this story it plainly appears, that the art of divination was\nextensively exercised in Egypt, that the practice was held in honour,\nand that such was the state of the country, that it was to be presumed\nas a thing of course, that a man of the high rank and distinction of\nJoseph should professedly be an adept in it.\n\nIn the great contention for supernatural power between Moses and the\nmagicians of Egypt, it is plain that they came forward with confidence,\nand did not shrink from the debate. Moses's rod was turned into a\nserpent; so were their rods: Moses changed the waters of Egypt into\nblood; and the magicians did the like with their enchantments: Moses\ncaused frogs to come up, and cover the land of Egypt; and the magicians\nalso brought frogs upon the country. Without its being in any way\nnecessary to enquire how they effected these wonders, it is evident\nfrom the whole train of the narrative, that they must have been much\nin the practice of astonishing their countrymen with their feats in\nsuch a kind, and, whether it were delusion, or to whatever else we may\nattribute their success, that they were universally looked up to for\nthe extraordinariness of their performances.\n\nWhile we are on this subject of illustrations from the Bible, it may\nbe worth while to revert more particularly to the story of Balaam.\nBalak the king of Moab, sent for Balaam that he might come and curse\nthe invaders of his country; and in the sequel we are told, when the\nprophet changed his curses into a blessing, that he did not \"go forth,\nas at other times, to seek for enchantments.\" It is plain therefore\nthat Balak did not rely singly upon the eloquence and fervour of\nBalaam to pour out vituperations upon the people of Israel, but that\nit was expected that the prophet should use incantations and certain\nmystical rites, upon which the efficacy of his foretelling disaster\nto the enemy principally depended.\n\n\nSTATUE OF MEMNON.\n\nThe Magi of Egypt looked round in every quarter for phenomena that\nmight produce astonishment among their countrymen, and induce them to\nbelieve that they dwelt in a land which overflowed with the testimonies\nand presence of a divine power. Among others the statue of Memnon,\nerected over his tomb near Thebes, is recorded by many authors. Memnon\nis said to have been the son of Aurora, the Goddess of the morning;\nand his statue is related to have had the peculiar faculty of uttering\na melodious sound every morning when touched by the first beams of\nday, as if to salute his mother; and every night at sunset to have\nimparted another sound, low and mournful, as lamenting the departure\nof the day. This prodigy is spoken of by Tacitus, Strabo, Juvenal and\nPhilostratus. The statue uttered these sounds, while perfect; and,\nwhen it was mutilated by human violence, or by a convulsion of nature,\nit still retained the property with which it had been originally\nendowed. Modern travellers, for the same phenomenon has still been\nobserved, have asserted that it does not owe its existence to any\nprodigy, but to a property of the granite, of which the statue or its\npedestal is formed, which, being hollow, is found in various parts of\nthe world to exhibit this quality. It has therefore been suggested,\nthat the priests, having ascertained its peculiarity, expressly formed\nthe statue of that material, for the purpose of impressing on it a\nsupernatural character, and thus being enabled to extend their\ninfluence with a credulous people. [21]\n\n\nTEMPLE OF JUPITER AMMON: ITS ORACLES.\n\nAnother of what may be considered as the wonders of Egypt, is the\ntemple of Jupiter Ammon in the midst of the Great Desert. This temple\nwas situated at a distance of no less than twelve days' journey from\nMemphis, the capital of the Lower Egypt. The principal part of this\nspace consisted of one immense tract of moving sand, so hot as to be\nintolerable to the sole of the foot, while the air was pregnant with\nfire, so that it was almost impossible to breathe in it. Not a drop of\nwater, not a tree, not a blade of grass, was to be found through this\nvast surface. It was here that Cambyses, engaged in an impious\nexpedition to demolish the temple, is said to have lost an army of\nfifty thousand men, buried in the sands. When you arrived however,\nyou were presented with a wood of great circumference, the foliage of\nwhich was so thick that the beams of the sun could not pierce it. The\natmosphere of the place was of a delicious temperature; the scene was\nevery where interspersed with fountains; and all the fruits of the\nearth were found in the highest perfection. In the midst was the\ntemple and oracle of the God, who was worshipped in the likeness of a\nram. The Egyptian priests chose this site as furnishing a test of the\nzeal of their votaries; the journey being like the pilgrimage to\nJerusalem or Mecca, if not from so great a distance, yet attended in\nmany respects with perils more formidable. It was not safe to attempt\nthe passage but with moderate numbers, and those expressly equipped\nfor expedition.\n\nBacchus is said to have visited this spot in his great expedition to\nthe East, when Jupiter appeared to him in the form of a ram, having\nstruck his foot upon the soil, and for the first time occasioned that\nsupply of water, with which the place was ever after plentifully\nsupplied. Alexander the Great in a subsequent age undertook the same\njourney with his army, that he might cause himself to be acknowledged\nfor the son of the God, under which character he was in all due form\nrecognised. The priests no doubt had heard of the successful battles\nof the Granicus and of Issus, of the capture of Tyre after a seven\nmonths' siege, and of the march of the great conqueror in Egypt, where\nhe carried every thing before him.\n\nHere we are presented with a striking specimen of the mode and spirit\nin which the oracles of old were accustomed to be conducted. It may be\nsaid that the priests were corrupted by the rich presents which\nAlexander bestowed on them with a liberal hand. But this was not the\nprime impulse in the business. They were astonished at the daring with\nwhich Alexander with a comparative handful of men set out from Greece,\nhaving meditated the overthrow of the great Persian empire. They were\nastonished with his perpetual success, and his victorious progress\nfrom the Hellespont to mount Taurus, from mount Taurus to Pelusium,\nand from Pelusium quite across the ancient kingdom of Egypt to the\nPalus Mareotis. Accustomed to the practice of adulation, and to the\nbelief that mortal power and true intellectual greatness were the\nsame, they with a genuine enthusiastic fervour regarded Alexander as\nthe son of their God, and acknowledged him as such.--Nothing can be\nmore memorable than the way in which belief and unbelief hold a\ndivided empire over the human mind, our passions hurrying us into\nbelief, at the same time that our intervals of sobriety suggest to\nus that it is all pure imposition.\n\n\nCHALDEA AND BABYLON.\n\nThe history of the Babylonish monarchy not having been handed down to\nus, except incidentally as it is touched upon by the historians of\nother countries, we know little of those anecdotes respecting it which\nare best calculated to illustrate the habits and manners of a people.\nWe know that they in probability preceded all other nations in the\naccuracy of their observations on the phenomena of the heavenly\nbodies. We know that the Magi were highly respected among them as an\norder in the state; and that, when questions occurred exciting great\nalarm in the rulers, \"the magicians, the astrologers, the sorcerers,\nand the Chaldeans,\" were called together, to see whether by their arts\nthey could throw light upon questions so mysterious and perplexing,\nand we find sufficient reason, both from analogy, and from the very\ncircumstance that sorcerers are specifically named among the classes\nof which their Wise Men consisted, to believe that the Babylonian Magi\nadvanced no dubious pretensions to the exercise of magical power.\n\n\nZOROASTER.\n\nAmong the Chaldeans the most famous name is that of Zoroaster, who is\nheld to have been the author of their religion, their civil policy,\ntheir sciences, and their magic. He taught the doctrine of two great\nprinciples, the one the author of good, the other of evil. He\nprohibited the use of images in the ceremonies of religion, and\npronounced that nothing deserved homage but fire, and the sun, the\ncentre and the source of fire, and these perhaps to be venerated not\nfor themselves, but as emblematical of the principle of all good\nthings. He taught astronomy and astrology. We may with sufficient\nprobability infer his doctrines from those of the Magi, who were his\nfollowers. He practised enchantments, by means of which he would send\na panic among the forces that were brought to make war against him,\nrendering the conflict by force of arms unnecessary. He prescribed the\nuse of certain herbs as all-powerful for the production of supernatural\neffects. He pretended to the faculty of working miracles, and of\nsuperseding and altering the ordinary course of nature.--There was,\nbeside the Chaldean Zoroaster, a Persian known by the same name, who\nis said to have been a contemporary of Darius Hystaspes.\n\n\n\n\nGREECE.\n\n\nThus obscure and general is our information respecting the\nBabylonians. But it was far otherwise with the Greeks. Long before\nthe period, when, by their successful resistance to the Persian\ninvasion, they had rendered themselves of paramount importance in the\nhistory of the civilised world, they had their poets and annalists,\nwho preserved to future time the memory of their tastes, their manners\nand superstitions, their strength, and their weakness. Homer in\nparticular had already composed his two great poems, rendering the\npeculiarities of his countrymen familiar to the latest posterity. The\nconsequence of this is, that the wonderful things of early Greece are\neven more frequent than the record of its sober facts. As men advance\nin observation and experience, they are compelled more and more to\nperceive that all the phenomena of nature are one vast chain of\nuninterrupted causes and consequences: but to the eye of uninstructed\nignorance every thing is astonishing, every thing is unexpected. The\nremote generations of mankind are in all cases full of prodigies: but\nit is the fortune of Greece to have preserved its early adventures, so\nas to render the beginning pages of its history one mass of impossible\nfalsehoods.\n\n\nDEITIES OF GREECE.\n\nThe Gods of the Greeks appear all of them once to have been men. Their\nreal or supposed adventures therefore make a part of what is recorded\nrespecting them. Jupiter was born in Crete, and being secreted by his\nmother in a cave, was suckled by a goat. Being come to man's estate,\nhe warred with the giants, one of whom had an hundred hands, and two\nothers brethren, grew nine inches every month, and, when nine years\nold, were fully qualified to engage in all exploits of corporeal\nstrength. The war was finished, by the giants being overwhelmed with\nthe thunderbolts of heaven, and buried under mountains.\n\nMinerva was born from the head of her father, without a mother; and\nBacchus, coming into the world after the death of his female parent,\nwas inclosed in the thigh of Jupiter, and was thus produced at the\nproper time in full vigour and strength. Minerva had a shield, in\nwhich was preserved the real head of Medusa, that had the property of\nturning every one that looked on it into stone. Bacchus, when a child,\nwas seized on by pirates with the intention to sell him for a slave:\nbut he waved a spear, and the oars of the sailors were turned into\nvines, which climbed the masts, and spread their clusters over the\nsails; and tigers, lynxes and panthers, appeared to swim round the\nship, so terrifying the crew that they leaped overboard, and were\nchanged into dolphins. Bacchus, in his maturity, is described as\nhaving been the conqueror of India. He did not set out on this\nexpedition like other conquerors, at the head of an army. He rode in\nan open chariot, which was drawn by tame lions. His attendants were\nmen and women in great multitudes, eminently accomplished in the arts\nof rural industry. Wherever he came, he taught men the science of\nhusbandry, and the cultivation of the vine. Wherever he came, he was\nreceived, not with hostility, but with festivity and welcome. On his\nreturn however, Lycurgus, king of Thrace, and Pentheus, king of\nThebes, set themselves in opposition to the improvements which the\nEast had received with the most lively gratitude; and Bacchus, to\npunish them, caused Lycurgus to be torn to pieces by wild horses, and\nspread a delusion among the family of Pentheus, so that they mistook\nhim for a wild boar which had broken into their vineyards, and of\nconsequence fell upon him, and he expired amidst a thousand wounds.\n\nApollo was the author of plagues and contagious diseases; at the same\ntime that, when he pleased, he could restore salubrity to a climate,\nand health and vigour to the sons of men. He was the father of poetry,\nand possessed in an eminent degree the gift of foretelling future\nevents. Hecate, which was one of the names of Diana, was distinguished\nas the Goddess of magic and enchantments. Venus was the Goddess of\nlove, the most  irresistible and omnipotent impulse of which the heart\nof man is susceptible. The wand of Mercury was endowed with such\nvirtues, that whoever it touched, if asleep, would start up into life\nand alacrity, and, if awake, would immediately fall into a profound\nsleep. When it touched the dying, their souls gently parted from their\nmortal frame; and, when it was applied to the dead, the dead returned\nto life. Neptune had the attribute of raising and appeasing tempests:\nand Vulcan, the artificer of heaven and earth, not only produced the\nmost exquisite specimens of skill, but also constructed furniture that\nwas endowed with a self-moving principle, and would present itself for\nuse or recede at the will of its proprietor. Pluto, in perpetrating\nthe rape of Proserpine, started up in his chariot through a cleft of\nthe earth in the vale of Enna in Sicily, and, having seized his prize,\ndisappeared again by the way that he came.\n\nCeres, the mother of Proserpine, in her search after her lost daughter,\nwas received with peculiar hospitality by Celeus, king of Eleusis. She\nbecame desirous of remunerating his liberality by some special favour.\nShe saw his only child laid in a cradle, and labouring under a fatal\ndistemper. She took him under her protection. She fed him with milk\nfrom her own breast, and at night covered him with coals of fire.\nUnder this treatment he not only recovered his strength, but shot up\nmiraculously into manhood, so that what in other men is the effect of\nyears, was accomplished in Triptolemus in as many hours. She gave him\nfor a gift the art of agriculture, so that he is said to have been the\nfirst to teach mankind to sow and to reap corn, and to make bread of\nthe produce.\n\nPrometheus, one of the race of the giants, was peculiarly distinguished\nfor his proficiency in the arts. Among other extraordinary productions\nhe formed a man of clay, of such exquisite workmanship, as to have\nwanted nothing but a living soul to cause him to be acknowledged as\nthe paragon of the world. Minerva beheld the performance of Prometheus\nwith approbation, and offered him her assistance. She conducted him to\nheaven, where he watched his opportunity to carry off on the tip of\nhis wand a portion of celestial fire from the chariot of the sun. With\nthis he animated his image; and the man of Prometheus moved, and\nthought, and spoke, and became every thing that the fondest wishes of\nhis creator could ask. Jupiter ordered Vulcan to make a woman, that\nshould surpass this man. All the Gods gave her each one a several\ngift: Venus gave her the power to charm; the Graces bestowed on her\nsymmetry of limb, and elegance of motion; Apollo the accomplishments\nof vocal and instrumental music; Mercury the art of persuasive speech;\nJuno a multitude of rich and gorgeous ornaments; and Minerva the\nmanagement of the loom and the needle. Last of all, Jupiter presented\nher with a sealed box, of which the lid was no sooner unclosed, than a\nmultitude of calamities and evils of all imaginable sorts flew out,\nonly Hope remaining at the bottom.\n\nDeucalion was the son of Prometheus and Pyrrha, his niece. They\nmarried. In their time a flood occurred, which as they imagined\ndestroyed the whole human race; they were the only survivors. By the\ndirection of an oracle they cast stones over their shoulders; when, by\nthe divine interposition, the stones cast by Deucalion became men, and\nthose cast by Pyrrha women. Thus the earth was re-peopled.\n\nI have put down a few of these particulars, as containing in several\ninstances the qualities of what is called magic, and thus furnishing\nexamples of some of the earliest occasions upon which supernatural\npowers have been alleged to mix with human affairs.\n\n\nDEMIGODS.\n\nThe early history of mortals in Greece is scarcely separated from that\nof the Gods. The first adventurer that it is perhaps proper to notice,\nas his exploits have I know not what of magic in them, is Perseus, the\nfounder of the metropolis and kingdom of Mycenae. By way of rendering\nhis birth illustrious, he is said to have been the son of Jupiter, by\nDanae, the daughter of Acrisius, king of Argos. The king, being\nforewarned by an oracle that his daughter should bear a son, by whose\nhand her father should be deprived of life, thought proper to shut her\nup in a tower of brass. Jupiter, having metamorphosed himself into a\nshower of gold, found his way into her place of confinement, and\nbecame the father of Perseus. On the discovery of this circumstance,\nAcrisius caused both mother and child to be inclosed in a chest, and\ncommitted to the waves. The chest however drifted upon the lands of a\nperson of royal descent in the island of Seriphos, who extended his\ncare and hospitality to both. When Perseus grew to man's estate, he\nwas commissioned by the king of Seriphos to bring him the head of\nMedusa, one of the Gorgons. Medusa had the wonderful faculty, that\nwhoever met her eyes was immediately turned into stone; and the king,\nwho had conceived a passion for Danae, sent her son on this enterprise,\nwith the hope that he would never come back alive. He was however\nfavoured by the Gods; Mercury gave him wings to fly, Pluto an invisible\nhelmet, and Minerva a mirror-shield, by looking in which he could\ndiscover how his enemy was disposed, without the danger of meeting her\neyes. Thus equipped, he accomplished his undertaking, cut off the head\nof the Gorgon, and pursed it in a bag. From this exploit he proceeded\nto visit Atlas, king of Mauritania, who refused him hospitality, and\nin revenge Perseus turned him into stone. He next rescued Andromeda,\ndaughter of the king of Ethiopia, from a monster sent by Neptune to\ndevour her. And, lastly, returning to his mother, and finding the king\nof Seriphos still incredulous and obstinate, he turned him likewise\ninto a stone.\n\nThe labours of Hercules, the most celebrated of the Greeks of the\nheroic age, appear to have had little of magic in them, but to have\nbeen indebted for their success to a corporal strength, superior to\nthat of all other mortals, united with an invincible energy of mind,\nwhich disdained to yield to any obstacle that could be opposed to him.\nHis achievements are characteristic of the rude and barbarous age in\nwhich he lived: he strangled serpents, and killed the Erymanthian\nboar, the Nemaean lion, and the Hydra.\n\n\nDAEDALUS.\n\nNearly contemporary with the labours of Hercules is the history of\nPasiphae and the Minotaur; and this brings us again within the sphere\nof magic. Pasiphae was the wife of Minos, king of Crete, who conceived\nan unnatural passion for a beautiful white bull, which Neptune had\npresented to the king. Having found the means of gratifying her\npassion, she became the mother of a monster, half-man and half-bull,\ncalled the Minotaur. Minos was desirous of hiding this monster from\nthe observation of mankind, and for this purpose applied to Daedalus,\nan Athenian, the most skilful artist of his time, who is said to have\ninvented the axe, the wedge, and the plummet, and to have found out\nthe use of glue. He first contrived masts and sails for ships, and\ncarved statues so admirably, that they not only looked as if they were\nalive, but had actually the power of self-motion, and would have\nescaped from the custody of their possessor, if they had not been\nchained to the wall.\n\nDaedalus contrived for Minos a labyrinth, a wonderful structure, that\ncovered many acres of ground. The passages in this edifice met and\ncrossed each other with such intricacy, that a stranger who had once\nentered the building, would have been starved to death before he could\nfind his way out. In this labyrinth Minos shut up the Minotaur. Having\nconceived a deep resentment against the people of Athens, where his\nonly son had been killed in a riot, he imposed upon them an annual\ntribute of seven noble youths, and as many virgins to be devoured by\nthe Minotaur. Theseus, son of the king of Athens, put an end to this\ndisgrace. He was taught by Ariadne, the daughter of Minos, how to\ndestroy the monster, and furnished with a clue by which afterwards to\nfind his way out of the labyrinth.\n\nDaedalus for some reason having incurred the displeasure of Minos, was\nmade a prisoner by him in his own labyrinth. But the artist being\nnever at an end of his inventions, contrived with feathers and wax to\nmake a pair of wings for himself, and escaped. Icarus, his son, who\nwas prisoner along with him, was provided by his father with a similar\nequipment. But the son, who was inexperienced and heedless, approached\ntoo near to the sun in his flight; and, the wax of his wings being\nmelted with the heat, he fell into the sea and was drowned.\n\n\nTHE ARGONAUTS.\n\nContemporary with the reign of Minos occurred the expedition of the\nArgonauts. Jason, the son of the king of Iolchos in Thessaly, was at\nthe head of this expedition. Its object was to fetch the golden\nfleece, which was hung up in a grove sacred to Mars, in the kingdom\nof Colchis, at the eastern extremity of the Euxine sea. He enlisted in\nthis enterprise all the most gallant spirits existing in the country,\nand among the rest Hercules, Theseus, Orpheus and Amphion. After having\npassed through a multitude of perils, one of which was occasioned by\nthe Cyanean rocks at the entrance of the Euxine, that had the quality\nof closing upon every vessel which attempted to make its way between\nthem and crushing it to pieces, a danger that could only be avoided by\nsending a dove before as their harbinger, they at length arrived.\n\n\nMEDEA.\n\nThe golden fleece was defended by bulls, whose hoofs were brass, and\nwhose breath was fire, and by a never-sleeping dragon that planted\nitself at the foot of the tree upon which the fleece was suspended.\nJason was prepared for his undertaking by Medea, the daughter of the\nking of the country, herself an accomplished magician, and furnished\nwith philtres, drugs and enchantments. Thus equipped, he tamed the\nbulls, put a yoke on their necks, and caused them to plough two acres\nof the stiffest land. He killed the dragon, and, to complete the\nadventure, drew the monster's teeth, sowed them in the ground, and saw\nan army of soldiers spring from the seed. The army hastened forward to\nattack him; but he threw a large stone into the midst of their ranks,\nwhen they immediately turned from him, and, falling on each other,\nwere all killed with their mutual weapons.\n\nThe adventure being accomplished, Medea set out with Jason on his\nreturn to Thessaly. On their arrival, they found Aeson, the father of\nJason, and Pelias, his uncle, who had usurped the throne, both old and\ndecrepid. Jason applied to Medea, and asked her whether among her\ncharms she had none to make an old man young again. She replied she\nhad: she drew the impoverished and watery blood from the body of Aeson;\nshe infused the juice of certain potent herbs into his veins; and he\nrose from the operation as fresh and vigorous a man as his son.\n\nThe daughters of Pelias professed a perfect willingness to abdicate\nthe throne of Iolchos; but, before they retired, they requested Medea\nto do the same kindness for their father which she had already done\nfor Aeson. She said she would. She told them the method was to cut the\nold man in pieces, and boil him in a kettle with an infusion of\ncertain herbs, and he would come out as smooth and active as a child.\n\nThe daughters of Pelias a little scrupled the operation. Medea, seeing\nthis, begged they would not think she was deceiving them. If however\nthey doubted, she desired they would bring her the oldest ram from\ntheir flocks, and they should see the experiment. Medea cut up the\nram, cast in certain herbs, and the old bell-wether came out as\nbeautiful and innocent a he-lamb as was ever beheld. The daughters of\nPelias were satisfied. They divided their father in pieces; but he was\nnever restored either to health or life.\n\nFrom Iolchos, upon some insurrection of the people, Medea and Jason\nfled to Corinth. Here they lived ten years in much harmony. At the end\nof that time Jason grew tired of his wife, and fell in love with\nGlauce, daughter of the king of Corinth. Medea was greatly exasperated\nwith his infidelity, and, among other enormities, slew with her own\nhand the two children she had borne him before his face, Jason\nhastened to punish her barbarity; but Medea mounted a chariot drawn by\nfiery dragons, fled through the air to Athens, and escaped.\n\nAt Athens she married Aegeus, king of that city. Aegeus by a former wife\nhad a son, named Theseus, who for some reason had been brought up\nobscure, unknown and in exile. At a suitable time he returned home to\nhis father with the intention to avow his parentage. But Medea was\nbeforehand with him. She put a poisoned goblet into the hands of Aegeus\nat an entertainment he gave to Theseus, with the intent that he should\ndeliver it to his son. At the critical moment Aegeus cast his eyes on\nthe sword of Theseus, which he recognised as that which he had\ndelivered with his son, when a child, and had directed that it should\nbe brought by him, when a man, as a token of the mystery of his birth.\nThe goblet was cast away; the father and son rushed into each other's\narms; and Medea fled from Athens in her chariot drawn by dragons\nthrough the air, as she had years before fled from Corinth.\n\n\nCIRCE.\n\nCirce was the sister of Aeetes and Pasiphae, and was, like Medea, her\nniece, skilful in sorcery. She had besides the gift of immortality.\nShe was exquisitely beautiful; but she employed the charms of her\nperson, and the seducing grace of her manners to a bad purpose. She\npresented to every stranger who landed in her territory an enchanted\ncup, of which she intreated him to drink. He no sooner tasted it, than\nhe was turned into a hog, and was driven by the magician to her sty.\nThe unfortunate stranger retained under this loathsome appearance the\nconsciousness of what he had been, and mourned for ever the criminal\ncompliance by which  he was brought to so melancholy a pass.\n\n\nORPHEUS.\n\nCicero [22] quotes Aristotle as affirming that there was no such man\nas Orpheus. But Aristotle is at least single in that opinion. And\nthere are too many circumstances known respecting Orpheus, and which\nhave obtained the consenting voice of all antiquity, to allow us to\ncall in question his existence. He was a native of Thrace, and from\nthat country migrated into Greece. He travelled into Egypt for the\npurpose of collecting there the information necessary to the\naccomplishment of his ends. He died a violent death; and, as is almost\nuniversally affirmed, fell a sacrifice to the resentment and fury of\nthe women of his native soil. [23]\n\nOrpheus was doubtless a poet; though it is not probable that any of\nhis genuine productions have been handed down to us. He was, as all\nthe poets of so remote a period were, extremely accomplished in all\nthe arts of vocal and instrumental music. He civilised the rude\ninhabitants of Greece, and subjected them to order and law. He formed\nthem into communities. He is said by Aristophanes [24] and Horace [25]\nto have reclaimed the savage man, from slaughter, and an indulgence in\nfood that was loathsome and foul. And this has with sufficient\nprobability been interpreted to mean, that he found the race of men\namong whom he lived cannibals, and that, to cure them the more\ncompletely of this horrible practice, he taught them to be contented\nto subsist upon the fruits of the earth. [26] Music and poetry are\nunderstood to have been made specially instrumental by him to the\neffecting this purpose. He is said to have made the hungry lion and\nthe famished tiger obedient to his bidding, and to put off their wild\nand furious natures.\n\nThis is interpreted by Horace [27] and other recent expositors to mean\nno more than that he reduced the race of savages as he found them, to\norder and civilisation. But it was at first perhaps understood more\nliterally. We shall not do justice to the traditions of these remote\ntimes, if we do not in imagination transport ourselves among them, and\nteach ourselves to feel their feelings, and conceive their conceptions.\nOrpheus lived in a time when all was enchantment and prodigy. Gifted\nand extraordinary persons in those ages believed that they were endowed\nwith marvellous prerogatives, and acted upon that belief. We may\noccasionally observe, even in these days of the dull and the literal,\nhow great is the ascendancy of the man over the beast, when he feels a\nfull and entire confidence in that ascendancy. The eye and the gesture\nof man cannot fail to produce effects, incredible till they are seen.\nMagic was the order of the day; and the enthusiasm of its heroes was\nraised to the highest pitch, and attended with no secret misgivings.\nWe are also to consider that, in all operations of a magical nature,\nthere is a wonderful mixture of frankness and _bonhommie_ with a\nstrong vein of cunning and craft. Man in every age is full of\nincongruous and incompatible principles; and, when we shall cease to\nbe inconsistent, we shall cease to be men.\n\nIt is difficult fully to explain what is meant by the story of Orpheus\nand Eurydice; but in its circumstances it bears a striking resemblance\nto what has been a thousand times recorded respecting the calling up\nof the ghosts of the dead by means of sorcery. The disconsolate\nhusband has in the first place recourse to the resistless aid of\nmusic. [28] After many preparatives he appears to have effected his\npurpose, and prevailed upon the powers of darkness to allow him the\npresence of his beloved. She appears in the sequel however to have\nbeen a thin and a fleeting shadow. He is forbidden to cast his eyes on\nher; and, if he had obeyed this injunction, it is uncertain how the\nexperiment would have ended. He proceeds however, as he is commanded,\ntowards the light of day. He is led to believe that his consort is\nfollowing his steps. He is beset with a multitude of unearthly\nphenomena. He advances for some time with confidence. At length he is\nassailed with doubts. He has recourse to the auricular sense, to know\nif she is following him. He can hear nothing. Finally he can endure\nthis uncertainty no longer; and, in defiance of the prohibition he has\nreceived, cannot refrain from turning his head to ascertain whether he\nis baffled, and has spent all his labour in vain. He sees her; but no\nsooner he sees her, than she becomes evanescent and impalpable;\nfarther and farther she retreats before him; she utters a shrill cry,\nand endeavours to articulate; but she grows more and more\nimperceptible; and in the conclusion he is left with the scene around\nhim in all respects the same as it had been before his incantations.\nThe result of the whole that is known of Orpheus, is, that he was an\neminently great and virtuous man, but was the victim of singular\ncalamity.\n\nWe have not yet done with the history of Orpheus. As has been said, he\nfell a sacrifice to the resentment and fury of the women of his native\nsoil. They are affirmed to have torn him limb from limb. His head,\ndivided from his body, floated down the waters of the Hebrus, and\nmiraculously, as it passed along to the sea, it was still heard to\nexclaim in mournful accents, Eurydice, Eurydice! [29] At length it was\ncarried ashore on the island of Lesbos. [30] Here, by some\nextraordinary concurrence of circumstances, it found a resting-place\nin a fissure of a rock over-arched by a cave, and, thus domiciliated,\nis said to have retained the power of speech, and to have uttered\noracles. Not only the people of Lesbos resorted to it for guidance in\ndifficult questions, but also the Asiatic Greeks from Ionia and Aetolia;\nand its fame and character for predicting future events even extended\nto Babylon. [31]\n\n\nAMPHION.\n\nThe story of Amphion is more perplexing than that of the living\nOrpheus. Both of them turn in a great degree upon the miraculous\neffects of music. Amphion was of the royal family of Thebes, and\nultimately became ruler of the territory. He is said, by the potency\nof his lyre, or his skill in the magic art, to have caused the stones\nto follow him, to arrange themselves in the way he proposed, and\nwithout the intervention of a human hand to have raised a wall about\nhis metropolis. [32] It is certainly less difficult to conceive the\nsavage man to be rendered placable, and to conform to the dictates of\ncivilisation, or even wild beasts to be made tame, than to imagine\nstones to obey the voice and the will of a human being. The example\nhowever is not singular; and hereafter we shall find related that\nMerlin, the British enchanter, by the power of magic caused the rocks\nof Stonehenge, though of such vast dimensions, to be carried through\nthe air from Ireland to the place where we at present find them.--Homer\nmentions that Amphion, and his brother Zethus built the walls of\nThebes, but does not describe it as having been done by miracle. [33]\n\n\nTIRESIAS.\n\nTiresias was one of the most celebrated soothsayers of the early ages\nof Greece. He lived in the times of Oedipus, and the war of the seven\nchiefs against Thebes. He was afflicted by the Gods with blindness, in\nconsequence of some displeasure they conceived against him; but in\ncompensation they endowed him beyond all other mortals with the gift\nof prophecy. He is said to have understood the language of birds. He\npossessed the art of divining future events from the various\nindications that manifest themselves in fire, in smoke, and in other\nways, [34] but to have set the highest value upon the communications\nof the dead, whom by spells and incantations he constrained to appear\nand answer his enquiries; [35] and he is represented as pouring out\ntremendous menaces against them, when they shewed themselves tardy to\nattend upon his commands. [36]\n\n\nABARIS.\n\nAbaris, the Scythian, known to us for his visit to Greece, was by all\naccounts a great magician. Herodotus says [37] that he is reported to\nhave travelled over the world with an arrow, eating nothing during his\njourney. Other authors relate that this arrow was given to him by\nApollo, and that he rode upon it through the air, over lands, and\nseas, and all inaccessible places. [38] The time in which he flourished\nis very uncertain, some having represented him as having constructed\nthe Palladium, which, as long as it was preserved, kept Troy from\nbeing taken by an enemy, [39] and others affirming that he was\nfamiliar with Pythagoras, who lived six hundred years later, and that\nhe was admitted into his special confidence. [40] He is said to have\npossessed the faculty of foretelling earthquakes, allaying storms, and\ndriving away pestilence; he gave out predictions wherever he went; and\nis described as an enchanter, professing to cure diseases by virtue of\ncertain words which he pronounced over those who were afflicted with\nthem. [41]\n\n\nPYTHAGORAS.\n\nThe name of Pythagoras is one of the most memorable in the records of\nthe human species; and his character is well worthy of the minutest\ninvestigation. By this name we are brought at once within the limits\nof history properly so called. He lived in the time of Cyrus and\nDarius Hystaspes, of Croesus, of Pisistratus, of Polycrates, tyrant of\nSamos, and Amasis, king of Egypt. Many hypotheses have been laid down\nrespecting the precise period of his birth and death; but, as it is\nnot to our purpose to enter into any lengthened discussions of that\nsort, we will adopt at once the statement that appears to be the most\nprobable, which is that of Lloyd, [42] who fixes his birth about the\nyear before Christ 586, and his death about the year 506.\n\nPythagoras was a man of the most various accomplishments, and appears\nto have penetrated in different directions into the depths of human\nknowledge. He sought wisdom in its retreats of fairest promise, in\nEgypt and other distant countries. [43] In this investigation he\nemployed the earlier period of his life, probably till he was forty,\nand devoted the remainder to such modes of proceeding, as appeared to\nhim the most likely to secure the advantage of what he had acquired to\na late posterity. [44]\n\nHe founded a school, and delivered his acquisitions by oral\ncommunication to a numerous body of followers. He divided his pupils\ninto two classes, the one neophytes, to whom was explained only the\nmost obvious and general truths, the other who were admitted into the\nentire confidence of the master. These last he caused to throw their\nproperty into a common stock, and to live together in the same place\nof resort. [45] He appears to have spent the latter half of his life\nin that part of Italy, called Magna Graecia, so denominated in some\ndegree from the numerous colonies of Grecians by whom it was planted,\nand partly perhaps from the memory of the illustrious things which\nPythagoras achieved there. [46] He is said to have spread the seeds of\npolitical liberty in Crotona, Sybaris, Metapontum, and Rhegium, and\nfrom thence in Sicily to Tauromenium, Catana, Agrigentum and Himera.\n[47] Charondas and Zaleucus, themselves famous legislators, derived\nthe rudiments of their political wisdom from the instructions of\nPythagoras. [48]\n\nBut this marvellous man in some way, whether from the knowlege he\nreceived, or from his own proper discoveries, has secured to his\nspecies benefits of a more permanent nature, and which shall outlive\nthe revolutions of ages, and the instability of political institutions.\nHe was a profound geometrician. The two theorems, that the internal\nangles of every right-line triangle are equal to two right angles, [49]\nand that the square of the hypothenuse of every right angled triangle\nis equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides, [50] are\nascribed to him. In memory of the latter of these discoveries he is\nsaid to have offered a public sacrifice to the Gods; and the theorem\nis still known by the name of the Pythagorean theorem. He ascertained\nfrom the length of the Olympic course, which was understood to have\nmeasured six hundred of Hercules's feet, the precise stature of that\nhero. [51] Lastly, Pythagoras is the first person, who is known to\nhave taught the spherical figure of the earth, and that we have\nantipodes; [52] and he propagated the doctrine that the earth is a\nplanet, and that the sun is the centre round which the earth and the\nother planets move, now known by the name of the Copernican\nsystem. [53]\n\nTo inculcate a pure and a simple mode of subsistence was also an\nexpress object of pursuit to Pythagoras. He taught a total abstinence\nfrom every thing having had the property of animal life. It has been\naffirmed, as we have seen, [54] that Orpheus before him taught the\nsame thing. But the claim of Orpheus to this distinction is ambiguous;\nwhile the theories and dogmas of the Samian sage, as he has frequently\nbeen styled, were more methodically digested, and produced more\nlasting and unequivocal effects. He taught temperance in all its\nbranches, and a resolute subjection of the appetites of the body to\ncontemplation and the exercises of the mind; and, by the unremitted\ndiscipline and authority he exerted over his followers, he caused his\nlessons to be constantly observed. There was therefore an edifying and\nan exemplary simplicity that prevailed as far as the influence of\nPythagoras extended, that won golden opinions to his adherents at all\ntimes that they appeared, and in all places. [55]\n\nOne revolution that Pythagoras worked, was that, whereas, immediately\nbefore, those who were most conspicuous among the Greeks as instructors\nof mankind in understanding and virtue, styled themselves sophists,\nprofessors of wisdom, this illustrious man desired to be known only by\nthe appellation of a philosopher, a lover of wisdom. [56] The sophists\nhad previously brought their denomination into discredit and reproach,\nby the arrogance of their pretensions, and the imperious way in which\nthey attempted to lay down the law to the world.\n\nThe modesty of this appellation however did not altogether suit with\nthe deep designs of Pythagoras, the ascendancy he resolved to acquire,\nand the oracular subjection in which he deemed it necessary to hold\nthose who placed themselves under his instruction. This wonderful man\nset out with making himself a model of the passive and unscrupulous\ndocility which he afterwards required from others. He did not begin to\nteach till he was forty years of age, and from eighteen to that period\nhe studied in foreign countries, with the resolution to submit to all\nhis teachers enjoined, and to make himself master of their least\ncommunicated and most secret wisdom. In Egypt in particular, we are\ntold that, though he brought a letter of recommendation from\nPolycrates, his native sovereign, to Amasis, king of that country, who\nfully concurred with the views of the writer, the priests, jealous of\nadmitting a foreigner into their secrets, baffled him as long as they\ncould, referring him from one college to another, and prescribing to\nhim the most rigorous preparatives, not excluding the rite of\ncircumcision. [57] But Pythagoras endured and underwent every thing,\ntill at length their unwillingness was conquered, and his perseverance\nreceived its suitable reward.\n\nWhen in the end Pythagoras thought himself fully qualified for the\ntask he had all along had in view, he was no less strict in prescribing\nample preliminaries to his own scholars. At the time that a pupil was\nproposed to him, the master, we are told, examined him with multiplied\nquestions as to his principles, his habits and intentions, observed\nminutely his voice and manner of speaking, his walk and his gestures,\nthe lines of his countenance, and the expression and management of his\neye, and, when he was satisfied with these, then and not till then\nadmitted him as a probationer. [58] It is to be supposed that all this\nmust have been personal. As soon however as this was over, the master\nwas withdrawn from the sight of the pupil; and a noviciate of three\nand five, in all eight years, [59] was prescribed to the scholar,\nduring which time he was only to hear his instructor from behind a\ncurtain, and the strictest silence was enjoined him through the whole\nperiod. As the instructions Pythagoras received in Egypt and the East\nadmitted of no dispute, so in his turn he required an unreserved\nsubmission from those who heard him: autos iphae \"the master has said\nit,\" was deemed a sufficient solution to all doubt and uncertainty. [60]\n\nTo give the greater authority and effect to his communications\nPythagoras hid himself during the day at least from the great body of\nhis pupils, and was only seen by them at night. Indeed there is no\nreason to suppose that any one was admitted into his entire\nfamiliarity. When he came forth, he appeared in a long garment of the\npurest white, with a flowing beard, and a garland upon his head. He is\nsaid to have been of the finest symmetrical form, with a majestic\ncarriage, and a grave and awful countenance. [61] He suffered his\nfollowers to believe that he was one of the Gods, the Hyperborean\nApollo, [62] and is said to have told Abaris that he assumed the human\nform, that he might the better invite men to an easiness of approach\nand to confidence in him. [63] What however seems to be agreed in by\nall his biographers, is that he professed to have already in different\nages appeared in the likeness of man: first as Aethalides, the son of\nMercury; and, when his father expressed himself ready to invest him\nwith any gift short of immortality, he prayed that, as the human soul\nis destined successively to dwell in various forms, he might have the\nprivilege in each to remember his former state of being, which was\ngranted him. From, Aethalides he became Euphorbus, who slew Patroclus\nat the siege of Troy. He then appeared as Hermotimus, then Pyrrhus, a\nfisherman of Delos, and finally Pythagoras. He said that a period of\ntime was interposed between each transmigration, during which he\nvisited the seat of departed souls; and he professed to relate a part\nof the wonders he had seen. [64] He is said to have eaten sparingly\nand in secret, and in all respects to have given himself out for a\nbeing not subject to the ordinary laws of nature. [65]\n\nPythagoras therefore pretended to miraculous endowments. Happening to\nbe on the sea-shore when certain fishermen drew to land an enormous\nmultitude of fishes, he desired them to allow him to dispose of the\ncapture, which they consented to, provided he would name the precise\nnumber they had caught. He did so, and required that they should throw\ntheir prize into the sea again, at the same time paying them the value\nof the fish. [66] He tamed a Daunian bear by whispering in his ear,\nand prevailed on him henceforth to refrain from the flesh of animals,\nand to feed on vegetables. By the same means he induced an ox not to\neat beans, which was a diet specially prohibited by Pythagoras; and he\ncalled down an eagle from his flight, causing him to sit on his hand,\nand submit to be stroked down by the philosopher. [67] In Greece, when\nhe passed the river Nessus in Macedon, the stream was heard to salute\nhim with the words \"Hail, Pythagoras!\" [68] When Abaris addressed him\nas one of the heavenly host, he took the stranger aside, and convinced\nhim that he was under no mistake, by exhibiting to him his thigh of\ngold: or, according to another account, he used the same sort of\nevidence at a certain time, to satisfy his pupils of his celestial\ndescent. [69] He is said to have been seen on the same day at\nMetapontum in Italy, and at Taurominium in Sicily, though these places\nare divided by the sea, so that it was conceived that it would cost\nseveral days to pass from one to the other. [70] In one instance he\nabsented himself from his associates in Italy for a whole year; and\nwhen he appeared again, related that he had passed that time in the\ninfernal regions, describing likewise the marvellous things he had\nseen. [71] Diogenes Laertius, speaking of this circumstance affirms\nhowever that he remained during this period in a cave, where his\nmother conveyed to him intelligence and necessaries, and that, when\nhe came once more into light and air, he appeared so emaciated and\ncolourless, that he might well be believed to have come out of Hades.\n\nThe close of the life of Pythagoras was, according to every statement,\nin the midst of misfortune and violence. Some particulars are related\nby Iamblichus, [72] which, though he is not an authority beyond all\nexception, are so characteristic as seem to entitle them to the being\ntranscribed. This author is more circumstantial than any other in\nstating the elaborate steps by which the pupils of Pythagoras came to\nbe finally admitted into the full confidence of the master. He says,\nthat they passed three years in the first place in a state of\nprobation, carefully watched by their seniors, and exposed to their\noccasional taunts and ironies, by way of experiment to ascertain\nwhether they were of a temper sufficiently philosophical and firm. At\nthe expiration of that period they were admitted to a noviciate, in\nwhich they were bound to uninterrupted silence, and heard the lectures\nof the master, while he was himself concealed from their view by a\ncurtain. They were then received to initiation, and required to\ndeliver over their property to the common stock. They were admitted to\nintercourse with the master. They were invited to a participation of\nthe most obscure theories, and the abstrusest problems. If however in\nthis stage of their progress they were discovered to be too weak of\nintellectual penetration, or any other fundamental objection were\nestablished against them, they were expelled the community; the double\nof the property they had contributed to the common stock was paid down\nto them; a head-stone and a monument inscribed with their names were\nset up in the place of meeting of the community; they were considered\nas dead; and, if afterwards they met by chance any of those who were\nof the privileged few, they were treated by them as entirely strangers.\n\nCylon, the richest man, or, as he is in one place styled, the prince,\nof Crotona, had manifested the greatest partiality to Pythagoras. He\nwas at the same time a man of rude, impatient and boisterous character.\nHe, together with Perialus of Thurium, submitted to all the severities\nof the Pythagorean school. They passed the three years of probation,\nand the five years of silence. They were received into the familiarity\nof the master. They were then initiated, and delivered all their\nwealth into the common stock. They were however ultimately pronounced\ndeficient in intellectual power, or for some other reason were not\njudged worthy to continue among the confidential pupils of Pythagoras.\nThey were expelled. The double of the property they had contributed\nwas paid back to them. A monument was set up in memory of what they\nhad been; and they were pronounced dead to the school.\n\nIt will easily be conceived in what temper Cylon sustained this\ndegradation. Of Perialus we hear nothing further. But Cylon, from\nfeelings of the deepest reverence and awe for Pythagoras, which he had\ncherished for years, was filled even to bursting with inextinguishable\nhatred and revenge. The unparalleled merits, the venerable age of the\nmaster whom he had so long followed, had no power to control his\nviolence. His paramount influence in the city insured him the command\nof a great body of followers. He excited them to a frame of turbulence\nand riot. He represented to them how intolerable was the despotism of\nthis pretended philosopher. They surrounded the school in which the\npupils were accustomed to assemble, and set it on fire. Forty persons\nperished in the flames. [73] According to some accounts Pythagoras was\nabsent at the time. According to others he and two of his pupils\nescaped. He retired from Crotona to Metapontum. But the hostility\nwhich had broken out in the former city, followed him there. He took\nrefuge in the Temple of the Muses. But he was held so closely besieged\nthat no provisions could be conveyed to him; and he finally perished\nwith hunger, after, according to Laertius, forty days' abstinence. [74]\n\nIt is difficult to imagine any thing more instructive, and more\npregnant with matter for salutary reflection, than the contrast\npresented to us by the character and system of action of Pythagoras\non the one hand, and those of the great enquirers of the last two\ncenturies, for example, Bacon, Newton and Locke, on the other.\nPythagoras probably does not yield to any one of these in the\nevidences of true intellectual greatness. In his school, in the\nfollowers he trained resembling himself, and in the salutary effects\nhe produced on the institutions of the various republics of Magna\nGraecia and Sicily, he must be allowed greatly to have excelled them.\nHis discoveries of various propositions in geometry, of the earth as\na planet, and of the solar system as now universally recognised,\nclearly stamp him a genius of the highest order.\n\nYet this man, thus enlightened and philanthropical, established his\nsystem of proceeding upon narrow and exclusive principles, and\nconducted it by methods of artifice, quackery and delusion. One of his\nleading maxims was, that the great and fundamental truths to the\nestablishment of which he devoted himself, were studiously to be\nconcealed from the vulgar, and only to be imparted to a select few,\nand after years of the severest noviciate and trial. He learned his\nearliest lessons of wisdom in Egypt after this method, and he\nconformed through life to the example which had thus been delivered to\nhim. The severe examination that he made of the candidates previously\nto their being admitted into his school, and the years of silence that\nwere then prescribed to them, testify this. He instructed them by\nsymbols, obscure and enigmatical propositions, which they were first\nto exercise their ingenuity to expound. The authority and dogmatical\nassertions of the master were to remain unquestioned; and the pupils\nwere to fashion themselves to obsequious and implicit submission, and\nwere the furthest in the world from being encouraged to the independent\nexercise of their own understandings. There was nothing that Pythagoras\nwas more fixed to discountenance, than the communication of the truths\nupon which he placed the highest value, to the uninitiated. It is not\nprobable therefore that he wrote any thing: all was communicated\norally, by such gradations, and with such discretion, as he might\nthink fit to adopt and to exercise.\n\nDelusion and falsehood were main features of his instruction. With\nwhat respect therefore can we consider, and what manliness worthy of\nhis high character and endowments can we impute to, his discourses\ndelivered from behind a curtain, his hiding himself during the day,\nand only appearing by night in a garb assumed for the purpose of\nexciting awe and veneration? What shall we say to the story of his\nvarious transmigrations? At first sight it appears in the light of the\nmost audacious and unblushing imposition. And, if we were to yield so\nfar as to admit that by a high-wrought enthusiasm, by a long train of\nmaceration and visionary reveries, he succeeded in imposing on himself,\nthis, though in a different way, would scarcely less detract from the\nhigh stage of eminence upon which the nobler parts of his character\nwould induce us to place him.\n\nSuch were some of the main causes that have made his efforts\nperishable, and the lustre which should have attended his genius in a\ngreat degree transitory and fugitive. He was probably much under the\ninfluence of a contemptible jealousy, and must be considered as\ndesirous that none of his contemporaries or followers should eclipse\ntheir master. All was oracular and dogmatic in the school of\nPythagoras. He prized and justly prized the greatness of his\nattainments and discoveries, and had no conception that any thing\ncould go beyond them. He did not encourage, nay, he resolutely opposed,\nall true independence of mind, and that undaunted spirit of enterprise\nwhich is the atmosphere in which the sublimest thoughts are most\nnaturally generated. He therefore did not throw open the gates of\nscience and wisdom, and invite every comer; but on the contrary\nnarrowed the entrance, and carefully reduced the number of aspirants.\nHe thought not of the most likely methods to give strength and\npermanence and an extensive sphere to the progress of the human mind.\nFor these reasons he wrote nothing; but consigned all to the frail and\nuncertain custody of tradition. And distant posterity has amply\navenged itself upon the narrowness of his policy; and the name of\nPythagoras, which would otherwise have been ranked with the first\nluminaries of mankind, and consigned to everlasting gratitude, has in\nconsequence of a few radical and fatal mistakes, been often loaded\nwith obloquy, and the hero who bore it been indiscriminately classed\namong the votaries of imposture and artifice.\n\n\nEPIMENIDES.\n\nEpimenides has been mentioned among the disciples of Pythagoras; but\nhe probably lived at an earlier period. He was a native of Crete. The\nfirst extraordinary circumstance that is recorded of him is, that,\nbeing very young, he was sent by his father in search of a stray\nsheep, when, being overcome by the heat of the weather, he retired\ninto a cave, and slept fifty-seven years. Supposing that he had slept\nonly a few hours, he repaired first to his father's country-house,\nwhich he found in possession of a new tenant, and then to the city,\nwhere he encountered his younger brother, now grown an old man, who\nwith difficulty was brought to acknowledge him. [75] It was probably\nthis circumstance that originally brought Epimenides into repute as a\nprophet, and a favourite of the Gods.\n\nEpimenides appears to have been one of those persons, who make it\ntheir whole study to delude their fellow-men, and to obtain for\nthemselves the reputation of possessing supernatural gifts. Such\npersons, almost universally, and particularly in ages of ignorance and\nwonder, become themselves the dupes of their own pretensions. He gave\nout that he was secretly subsisted by food brought to him by the\nnymphs; and he is said to have taken nourishment in so small\nquantities, as to be exempted from the ordinary necessities of nature.\n[76] He boasted that he could send his soul out of his body, and recal\nit, when he pleased; and alternately appeared an inanimate corpse, and\nthen again his life would return to him, and he appear capable of\nevery human function as before. [77] He is said to have practised the\nceremony of exorcising houses and fields, and thus rendering them\nfruitful and blessed. [78] He frequently uttered prophecies of events\nwith such forms of ceremony and such sagacious judgment, that they\nseemed to come to pass as he predicted.\n\nOne of the most memorable acts of his life happened in this manner.\nCylon, the head of one of the principal families in Athens, set on\nfoot a rebellion against the government, and surprised the citadel.\nHis power however was of short duration. Siege was laid to the place,\nand Cylon found his safety in flight. His partisans forsook their\narms, and took refuge at the altars. Seduced from this security by\nfallacious promises, they were brought to judgment and all of them put\nto death. The Gods were said to be offended with this violation of the\nsanctions of religion, and sent a plague upon the city. All things\nwere in confusion, and sadness possessed the whole community.\nProdigies were perpetually seen; the spectres of the dead walked the\nstreets; and terror universally prevailed. The sacrifices offered to\nthe gods exhibited the most unfavourable symptoms. [79] In this\nemergency the Athenian senate resolved to send for Epimenides to come\nto their relief. His reputation was great. He was held for a holy and\ndevout man, and wise in celestial things by inspiration from above. A\nvessel was fitted out under the command of one of the first citizens\nof the state to fetch Epimenides from Crete. He performed various\nrites and purifications. He took a certain number of sheep, black and\nwhite, and led them to the Areopagus, where he caused them to be let\nloose to go wherever they would. He directed certain persons to follow\nthem, and mark the place where they lay down. He enquired to what\nparticular deity the spot was consecrated, and sacrificed the sheep to\nthat deity; and in the result of these ceremonies the plague was\nstayed. According to others he put an end to the plague by the\nsacrifice of two human victims. The Athenian senate, full of gratitude\nto their benefactor, tendered him the gift of a talent. But Epimenides\nrefused all compensation, and only required, as an acknowledgment of\nwhat he had done, that there should be perpetual peace between the\nAthenians and the people of Gnossus, his native city. [80] He is said\nto have died shortly after his return to his country, being of the age\nof one hundred and fifty-seven years. [81]\n\n\nEMPEDOCLES.\n\nEmpedocles has also been mentioned as a disciple of Pythagoras. But he\nprobably lived too late for that to have been the case. His principles\nwere in a great degree similar to those of that illustrious personage;\nand he might have studied under one of the immediate successors of\nPythagoras. He was a citizen of Agrigentum in Sicily; and, having\ninherited considerable wealth, exercised great authority in his native\nplace. [82] He was a distinguished orator and poet. He was greatly\nconversant in the study of nature, and was eminent for his skill in\nmedicine. [83] In addition to these accomplishments, he appears to\nhave been a devoted adherent to the principles of liberty. He effected\nthe dissolution of the ruling council of Agrigentum, and substituted\nin their room a triennial magistracy, by means of which the public\nauthority became not solely in the hands of the rich as before, but\nwas shared by them with expert and intelligent men of an inferior\nclass. [84] He opposed all arbitrary exercises of rule. He gave\ndowries from his own stores to many young maidens of impoverished\nfamilies, and settled them in eligible marriages. [85] He performed\nmany cures upon his fellow-citizens; and is especially celebrated for\nhaving restored a woman to life, who had been apparently dead,\naccording to one account for seven days, but according to others for\nthirty. [86]\n\nBut the most memorable things known of Empedocles, are contained in\nthe fragments of his verses that have been preserved to us. In one of\nthem he says of himself, \"I well remember the time before I was\nEmpedocles, that I once was a boy, then a girl, a plant, a glittering\nfish, a bird that cut the air.\" [87] Addressing those who resorted to\nhim for improvement and wisdom, he says, \"By my instructions you shall\nlearn medicines that are powerful to cure disease, and re-animate old\nage; you shall be able to calm the savage winds which lay waste the\nlabours of the husbandman, and, when you will, shall send forth the\ntempest again; you shall cause the skies to be fair and serene, or\nonce more shall draw down refreshing showers, re-animating the fruits\nof the earth; nay, you shall recal the strength of the dead man, when\nhe has already become the victim of Pluto.\" [88] Further, speaking of\nhimself, Empedocles exclaims: \"Friends, who inhabit the great city\nlaved by the yellow Acragas, all hail! I mix with you a God, no longer\na mortal, and am every where honoured by you, as is just; crowned with\nfillets, and fragrant garlands, adorned with which when I visit\npopulous cities, I am revered by both men and women, who follow me by\nten thousands, enquiring the road to boundless wealth, seeking the\ngift of prophecy, and who would learn the marvellous skill to cure all\nkinds of diseases.\" [89]\n\nThe best known account of the death of Empedocles may reasonably be\nconsidered as fabulous. From what has been said it sufficiently\nappears, that he was a man of extraordinary intellectual endowments,\nand the most philanthropical dispositions; at the same time that he\nwas immoderately vain, aspiring by every means in his power to acquire\nto himself a deathless remembrance. Working on these hints, a story\nhas been invented that he aspired to a miraculous way of disappearing\nfrom among men; and for this purpose repaired, when alone, to the top\nof Mount Aetna, then in a state of eruption, and threw himself down the\nburning crater: but it is added, that in the result of this perverse\nambition he was baffled, the volcano having thrown up one of his\nbrazen sandals, by means of which the mode of his death became known.\n[90]\n\n\nARISTEAS.\n\nHerodotus tells a marvellous story of one Aristeas, a poet of\nProconnesus, an island of the Propontis. This man, coming by chance\ninto a fuller's workshop in his native place, suddenly fell down dead.\nAs the man was of considerable rank, the fuller immediately, quitting\nand locking up his shop, proceeded to inform his family of what had\nhappened. The relations went accordingly, having procured what was\nrequisite to give the deceased the rites of sepulture, to the shop;\nbut, when it was opened, they could discover no vestige of Aristeas,\neither dead or alive. A traveller however from the neighbouring town\nof Cyzicus on the continent, protested that he had just left that\nplace, and, as he set foot in the wherry which had brought him over,\nhad met Aristeas, and held a particular conversation with him. Seven\nyears after, Aristeas reappeared at Proconnesus, resided there a\nconsiderable time, and during this abode wrote his poem of the wars of\nthe one-eyed Arimaspians and the Gryphons. He then again disappeared\nin an unaccountable manner. But, what is more than all extraordinary,\nthree hundred and forty years after this disappearance, he shewed\nhimself again at Metapontum, in Magna Graecia, and commanded the\ncitizens to erect a statue in his honour near the temple of Apollo in\nthe forum; which being done, he raised himself in the air; and flew\naway in the form of a crow. [91]\n\n\nHERMOTIMUS.\n\nHermotimus, or, as Plutarch names him, Hermodorus of Clazomene, is\nsaid to have possessed, like Epimenides, the marvellous power of\nquitting his body, and returning to it again, as often, and for as\nlong a time as he pleased. In these absences his unembodied spirit\nwould visit what places he thought proper, observe every thing that\nwas going on, and, when he returned to his fleshy tabernacle, make a\nminute relation of what he had seen. Hermotimus had enemies, who, one\ntime when his body had lain unanimated unusually long, beguiled his\nwife, made her believe that he was certainly dead, and that it was\ndisrespectful and indecent to keep him so long in that state. The\nwoman therefore placed her husband on the funeral pyre, and consumed\nhim to ashes; so that, continues the philosopher, when the soul of\nHermotimus came back again, it no longer found its customary\nreceptacle to retire into. [92] Certainly this kind of treatment\nappeared to furnish an infallible criterion, whether the seeming\nabsences of the soul of this miraculous man were pretended or real.\n\n\nTHE MOTHER OF DEMARATUS, KING OF SPARTA.\n\nHerodotus [93] tells a story of the mother of Demaratus, king of\nSparta, which bears a striking resemblance to the fairy tales of\nmodern times. This lady, afterward queen of Sparta, was sprung from\nopulent parents, but, when she was born, was so extravagantly ugly,\nthat her parents hid her from all human observation. According to the\nmode of the times however, they sent the babe daily in its nurse's\narms to the shrine of Helen, now metamorphosed into a Goddess, to pray\nthat the child might be delivered from its present preternatural\ndeformity. On these occasions the child was shrouded in many coverings,\nthat it might escape being seen. One day as the nurse came out of the\ntemple, a strange woman met her, and asked her what she carried so\ncarefully concealed. The nurse said it was a female child, but of\nopulent parents, and she was strictly enjoined that it should be seen\nby no one. The stranger was importunate, and by dint of perseverance\novercame the nurse's reluctance. The woman took the babe in her arms,\nstroked down its hair, kissed it, and then returning it to the nurse,\nsaid that it should grow up the most perfect beauty in Sparta. So\naccordingly it proved: and the king of the country, having seen her,\nbecame so enamoured of her, that, though he already had a wife, and\nshe a husband, he overcame all obstacles, and made her his queen.\n\n\nORACLES.\n\nOne of the most extraordinary things to be met with in the history of\nancient times is the oracles. They maintained their reputation for\nmany successive centuries. The most famous perhaps were that of Delphi\nin Greece, and that of Jupiter Ammon in the deserts of Lybia. But they\nwere scattered through many cities, many plains, and many islands.\nThey were consulted by the foolish and the wise; and scarcely anything\nconsiderable was undertaken, especially about the time of the Persian\ninvasion into Greece, without the parties having first had recourse to\nthese; and they in most cases modified the conduct of princes and\narmies accordingly. To render the delusion more successful, every kind\nof artifice was put in practice. The oracle could only be consulted on\nfixed days; and the persons who resorted to it, prefaced their\napplication with costly offerings to the presiding God. Their\nquestions passed through the hands of certain priests, residing in\nand about the temple. These priests received the embassy with all due\nsolemnity, and retired. A priestess, or Pythia, who was seldom or\nnever seen by any of the profane vulgar, was the immediate vehicle of\ncommunication with the God. She was cut off from all intercourse with\nthe world, and was carefully trained by the attendant priests.\nSpending almost the whole of her time in solitude, and taught to\nconsider her office as ineffably sacred, she saw visions, and was for\nthe most part in a state of great excitement. The Pythia, at least of\nthe Delphian God, was led on with much ceremony to the performance of\nher office, and placed upon the sacred tripod. The tripod, we are\ntold, stood over a chasm in the rock, from which issued fumes of an\ninebriating quality. The Pythia became gradually penetrated through\nevery limb with these fumes, till her bosom swelled, her features\nenlarged, her mouth foamed, her voice seemed supernatural, and she\nuttered words that could sometimes scarcely be called articulate.\nShe could with difficulty contain herself, and seemed to be possessed,\nand wholly overpowered, with the God. After a prelude of many\nunintelligible sounds, uttered with fervour and a sort of frenzy, she\nbecame by degrees more distinct. She uttered incoherent sentences,\nwith breaks and pauses, that were filled up with preternatural efforts\nand distorted gestures; while the priests stood by, carefully recording\nher words, and then reducing them into a sort of obscure signification.\nThey finally digested them for the most part into a species of\nhexameter verse. We may suppose the supplicants during this ceremony\nplaced at a proper distance, so as to observe these things imperfectly,\nwhile the less they understood, they were ordinarily the more impressed\nwith religious awe, and prepared implicitly to receive what was\ncommunicated to them. Sometimes the priestess found herself in a frame,\nnot entirely equal to her function, and refused for the present to\nproceed with the ceremony.\n\nThe priests of the oracle doubtless conducted them in a certain degree\nlike the gipsies and fortune-tellers of modern times, cunningly\nprocuring to themselves intelligence in whatever way they could, and\ningeniously worming out the secrets of their suitors, at the same time\ncontriving that their drift should least of all be suspected. But\ntheir main resource probably was in the obscurity, almost amounting to\nunintelligibleness, of their responses. Their prophecies in most cases\nrequired the comment of the event to make them understood; and it not\nseldom happened, that the meaning in the sequel was found to be the\ndiametrically opposite of that which the pious votaries had originally\nconceived.\n\nIn the mean time the obscurity of the oracles was of inexpressible\nservice to the cause of superstition. If the event turned out to be\nsuch as could in no way be twisted to come within the scope of the\nresponse, the pious suitor only concluded that the failure was owing\nto the grossness and carnality of his own apprehension, and not to any\ndeficiency in the institution. Thus the oracle by no means lost credit,\neven when its meaning remained for ever in its original obscurity. But,\nwhen, by any fortunate chance, its predictions seemed to be verified,\nthen the unerringness of the oracle was lauded from nation to nation;\nand the omniscience of the God was admitted with astonishment and\nadoration.\n\nIt would be a vulgar and absurd mistake however, to suppose that all\nthis was merely the affair of craft, the multitude only being the\ndupes, while the priests in cold blood carried on the deception, and\nsecretly laughed at the juggle they were palming on the world. They\nfelt their own importance; and they cherished it. They felt that they\nwere regarded by their countrymen as something more than human; and\nthe opinion entertained of them by the world around them, did not fail\nto excite a responsive sentiment in their own bosoms. If their\ncontemporaries willingly ascribed to them an exclusive sacredness, by\nhow much stronger an impulse were they led fully to receive so\nflattering a suggestion! Their minds were in a perpetual state of\nexaltation; and they believed themselves specially favoured by the God\nwhose temple constituted their residence. A small matter is found\nsufficient to place a creed which flatters all the passions of its\nvotaries, on the most indubitable basis. Modern philosophers think\nthat by their doctrine of gases they can explain all the appearances\nof the Pythia; but the ancients, to whom this doctrine was unknown,\nadmitted these appearances as the undoubted evidence of an\ninterposition from heaven.\n\nIt is certainly a matter of the extremest difficulty, for us in\nimagination to place ourselves in the situation of those who believed\nin the ancient polytheistical creed. And yet these believers nearly\nconstituted the whole of the population of the kingdoms of antiquity.\nEven those who professed to have shaken off the prejudices of their\neducation, and to rise above the absurdities of paganism, had still\nsome of the old leaven adhering to them. One of the last acts of the\nlife of Socrates, was to order the sacrifice of a cock to be made to\nAesculapius.\n\nNow the creed of paganism is said to have made up to the number of\nthirty thousand deities. Every kingdom, every city, every street, nay,\nin a manner every house, had its protecting God. These Gods were\nrivals to each other; and were each jealous of his own particular\nprovince, and watchful against the intrusion of any neighbour deity\nupon ground where he had a superior right. The province of each of\nthese deities was of small extent; and therefore their watchfulness\nand jealousy of their appropriate honours do not enter into the\nslightest comparison with the Providence of the God who directs the\nconcerns of the universe. They had ample leisure to employ in\nvindicating their prerogatives. Prophecy was of all means the plainest\nand most obvious for each deity to assert his existence, and to\ninforce the reverence and submission of his votaries. Prophecy was\nthat species of interference which was least liable to the being\nconfuted and exposed. The oracles, as we have said, were delivered in\nterms and phrases that were nearly unintelligible. If therefore they\nmet with no intelligible fulfilment, this lost them nothing; and, if\nit gained them no additional credit, neither did it expose them to any\ndisgrace. Whereas every example, where the obscure prediction seemed\nto tally with, and be illustrated by any subsequent event, was hailed\nwith wonder and applause, confirmed the faith of the true believers,\nand was held forth as a victorious confutation of the doubts of the\ninfidel.\n\n\nINVASION OF XERXES INTO GREECE.\n\nIt is particularly suitable in this place to notice the events which\ntook place at Delphi upon occasion of the memorable invasion of Xerxes\ninto Greece. This was indeed a critical moment for the heathen\nmythology. The Persians were pointed and express in their hostility\nagainst the altars and the temples of the Greeks. It was no sooner\nknown that the straits of Thermopylae had been forced, than the priests\nconsulted the God, as to whether they should bury the treasures of the\ntemple, so to secure them against the sacrilege of the invader. The\nanswer of the oracle was: \"Let nothing be moved; the God is sufficient\nfor the protection of his rights.\" The inhabitants therefore of the\nneighbourhood withdrew: only sixty men and the priest remained. The\nPersians in the mean time approached. Previously to this however, the\nsacred arms which were placed in the temple, were seen to be moved by\ninvisible hands, and deposited on the declivity which was on the\noutside of the building. The invaders no sooner shewed themselves,\nthan a miraculous storm of thunder and lightning rebounded and flashed\namong the multiplied hills which surrounded the sacred area, and\nstruck terror into all hearts. Two vast fragments were detached from\nthe top of mount Parnassus, and crushed hundreds in their fall. A\nvoice of warlike acclamation issued from within the walls. Dismay\nseized the Persian troops. The Delphians then, rushing from their\ncaverns, and descending from the summits, attacked them with great\nslaughter. Two persons, exceeding all human stature, and that were\nsaid to be the demigods whose fanes were erected near the temple of\nApollo, joined in the pursuit, and extended the slaughter. [94] It has\nbeen said that the situation of the place was particularly adapted to\nthis mode of defence. Surrounded and almost overhung with lofty\nmountain-summits, the area of the city was inclosed within crags and\nprecipices. No way led to it but through defiles, narrow and steep,\nshadowed with wood, and commanded at every step by fastnesses from\nabove. In such a position artificial fires and explosion might imitate\na thunder storm. Great pains had been taken, to represent the place as\naltogether abandoned; and therefore the detachment of rocks from the\ntop of mount Parnassus, though effected by human hands, might appear\naltogether supernatural.\n\nNothing can more forcibly illustrate the strength of the religious\nfeeling among the Greeks, than the language of the Athenian government\nat the time of the second descent of the Persian armament upon their\nterritory, when they were again compelled to abandon their houses and\nland to the invader. Mardonius said to them: \"I am thus commissioned\nby the king of Persia, he will release and give back to you your\ncountry; he invites you to choose a further territory, whatever you\nmay think desirable, which he will guarantee to you to govern as you\nshall judge fit. He will rebuild for you, without its costing you\neither money or labour, the temples which in his former incursion he\ndestroyed with fire. It is in vain for you to oppose him by force, for\nhis armies are innumerable.\" To which the Athenians replied, \"As long\nas the sun pursues his course in the heavens, so long will we resist\nthe Persian invader.\" Then turning to the Spartan ambassadors who were\nsent to encourage and animate them to persist, they added, \"It is but\nnatural that your employers should apprehend that we might give way\nand be discouraged. But there is no sum of money so vast, and no\nregion so inviting and fertile, that could buy us to concur in the\nenslaving of Greece. Many and resistless are the causes which induce\nus to this resolve. First and chiefest, the temples and images of the\nGods, which Xerxes has burned and laid in ruins, and which we are\ncalled upon to avenge to the utmost, instead of forming a league with\nhim who made this devastation. Secondly, the consideration of the\nGrecian race, the same with us in blood and in speech, the same in\nreligion and manners, and whose cause we will never betray. Know\ntherefore now, if you knew not before, that, as long as a single\nAthenian survives, we will never swerve from the hostility to Persia\nto which we have devoted ourselves.\"\n\nContemplating this magnanimous resolution, it is in vain for us to\nreflect on the absurdity, incongruity and frivolousness, as we\napprehend it, of the pagan worship, inasmuch as we find, whatever we\nmay think of its demerits, that the most heroic people that ever\nexisted on earth, in the hour of their direst calamity, regarded a\nzealous and fervent adherence to that religion as the most sacred of\nall duties. [95]\n\n\nDEMOCRITUS.\n\nThe fame of Democritus has sustained a singular fortune. He is\nrepresented by Pliny as one of the most superstitious of mortals. This\ncharacter is founded on certain books which appeared in his name. In\nthese books he is made to say, that, if the blood of certain birds be\nmingled together, the combination will produce a serpent, of which\nwhoever eats will become endowed with the gift of understanding the\nlanguage of birds. [96] He attributes a multitude of virtues to the\nlimbs of a dead camelion: among others that, if the left foot of this\nanimal be grilled, and there be added certain herbs, and a particular\nunctuous preparation, it will have the quality to render the person\nwho carries it about him invisible. [97] But all this is wholly\nirreconcileable with the known character of Democritus, who\ndistinguished himself by the hypothesis that the world was framed from\nthe fortuitous concourse of atoms, and that the soul died with the\nbody. And accordingly Lucian, [98] a more judicious author than Pliny,\nexpressly cites Democritus as the strenuous opposer of all the\npretenders to miracles. \"Such juggling tricks,\" he says, \"call for a\nDemocritus, an Epicurus, a Metrodorus, or some one of that temper, who\nshould endeavour to detect the illusion, and would hold it for certain,\neven if he could not fully lay open the deceit, that the whole was a\nlying pretence, and had not a spark of reality in it.\"\n\nDemocritus was in reality one of the most disinterested characters on\nrecord in the pursuit of truth. He has been styled the father of\nexperimental philosophy. When his father died, and the estate came to\nbe divided between him and two brothers, he chose the part which was\nin money, though the smallest, that he might indulge him [Errata:\n_read_ himself] in travelling in pursuit of knowledge. He visited\nEgypt and Persia, and turned aside into Ethiopia and India. He is\nreported to have said, that he had rather be the possessor of one of\nthe cardinal secrets of nature, than of the diadem of Persia.\n\n\nSOCRATES.\n\nSocrates is the most eminent of the ancient philosophers. He lived in\nthe most enlightened age of Greece, and in Athens, the most illustrious\nof her cities. He was born in the middle ranks of life, the son of a\nsculptor. He was of a mean countenance, with a snub nose, projecting\neyes, and otherwise of an appearance so unpromising, that a\nphysiognomist, his contemporary, pronounced him to be given to the\ngrossest vices. But he was of a penetrating understanding, the simplest\nmanners, and a mind wholly bent on the study of moral excellence. He\nat once abjured all the lofty pretensions, and the dark and recondite\npursuits of the most applauded teachers of his time, and led those to\nwhom he addressed his instructions from obvious and irresistible data\nto the most unexpected and useful conclusions. There was something in\nhis manner of teaching that drew to him the noblest youth of Athens.\nPlato and Xenophon, two of the most admirable of the Greek writers,\nwere among his pupils. He reconciled in his own person in a surprising\ndegree poverty with the loftiest principles of independence. He taught\nan unreserved submission to the laws of our country. He several times\nunequivocally displayed his valour in the field of battle, while at\nthe same time he kept aloof from public offices and trusts. The\nserenity of his mind never forsook him. He was at all times ready to\nteach, and never found it difficult to detach himself from his own\nconcerns, to attend to the wants and wishes of others. He was\nuniformly courteous and unpretending; and, if at any time he indulged\nin a vein of playful ridicule, it was only against the presumptuously\nignorant, and those who were without foundation wise in their own\nconceit.\n\nYet, with all these advantages and perfections, the name of Socrates\nwould not have been handed down with such lustre to posterity but for\nthe manner of his death. He made himself many enemies. The plainness\nof his manner and the simplicity of his instructions were inexpressibly\nwounding to those (and they were many), who, setting up for professors,\nhad hitherto endeavoured to dazzle their hearers by the loftiness of\ntheir claims, and to command from them implicit submission by the\narrogance with which they dictated. It must be surprising to us, that\na man like Socrates should be arraigned in a country like Athens upon\na capital accusation. He was charged with instilling into the youth a\ndisobedience to their duties, and propagating impiety to the Gods,\nfaults of which he was notoriously innocent. But the plot against him\nwas deeply laid, and is said to have been twenty years in the\nconcoction. And he greatly assisted the machinations of his\nadversaries, by the wonderful firmness of his conduct upon his trial,\nand his spirited resolution not to submit to any thing indirect and\npusillanimous. He defended himself with a serene countenance and the\nmost cogent arguments, but would not stoop to deprecation and intreaty.\nWhen sentence was pronounced against him, this did not induce the\nleast alteration of his conduct. He did not think that a life which he\nhad passed for seventy years with a clear conscience, was worth\npreserving by the sacrifice of honour. He refused to escape from\nprison, when one of his rich friends had already purchased of the\njailor the means of his freedom. And, during the last days of his life,\nand when he was waiting the signal of death, which was to be the return\nof a ship that had been sent with sacrifices to Delos, he uttered those\nadmirable discourses, which have been recorded by Xenophon and Plato\nto the latest posterity.\n\nBut the question which introduces his name into this volume, is that\nof what is called the demon of Socrates. He said that he repeatedly\nreceived a divine premonition of dangers impending over himself and\nothers; and considerable pains have been taken to ascertain the cause\nand author of these premonitions. Several persons, among whom we may\ninclude Plato, have conceived that Socrates regarded himself as\nattended by a supernatural guardian who at all times watched over his\nwelfare and concerns.\n\nBut the solution is probably of a simpler nature. Socrates, with all\nhis incomparable excellencies and perfections, was not exempt from the\nsuperstitions of his age and country. He had been bred up among the\nabsurdities of polytheism. In them were included, as we have seen, a\nprofound deference for the responses of oracles, and a vigilant\nattention to portents and omens. Socrates appears to have been\nexceedingly regardful of omens. Plato tells us that this intimation,\nwhich he spoke of as his demon, never prompted him to any act, but\noccasionally interfered to prevent him or his friends from proceeding\nin any thing that would have been attended with injurious consequences.\n[99] Sometimes he described it as a voice, which no one however heard\nbut himself; and sometimes it shewed itself in the act of sneezing. If\nthe sneezing came, when he was in doubt to do a thing or not to do it,\nit confirmed him; but if, being already engaged in any act, he sneezed,\nthis he considered as a warning to desist. If any of his friends\nsneezed on his right hand, he interpreted this as a favourable omen;\nbut, if on his left, he immediately relinquished his purpose. [100]\nSocrates vindicated his mode of expressing himself on the subject, by\nsaying that others, when they spoke of omens, for example, by the\nvoice of a bird, said the bird told me this, but that he, knowing that\nthe omen was purely instrumental to a higher power, deemed it more\nreligious and respectful to have regard only to the higher power, and\nto say that God had graciously warned him. [101] One of the examples\nof this presage was, that, going along a narrow street with several\ncompanions in earnest discourse, he suddenly stopped, and turned\nanother way, warning his friends to do the same. Some yielded to him,\nand others went on, who were encountered by the rushing forward of a\nmultitude of hogs, and did not escape without considerable\ninconvenience and injury. [102] In another instance one of a company\namong whom was Socrates, had confederated to commit an act of\nassassination. Accordingly he rose to quit the place, saying to\nSocrates, \"I will be back presently.\" Socrates, unaware of his purpose,\nbut having received the intimation of his demon, said to him earnestly,\n\"Go not.\" The conspirator sat down. Again however he rose, and again\nSocrates stopped him. At length he escaped, without the observation of\nthe philosopher, and committed the act, for which he was afterwards\nbrought to trial. When led to execution, he exclaimed, \"This would\nnever have happened to me, if I had yielded to the intimation of\nSocrates.\" [103] In the same manner, and by a similar suggestion, the\nphilosopher predicted the miscarriage of the Athenian expedition to\nSicily under Nicias, which terminated with such signal disaster. [104]\nThis feature in the character of Socrates is remarkable, and may shew\nthe prevalence of superstitious observances, even in persons whom we\nmight think the most likely to be exempt from this weakness.\n\n\n\n\nROME.\n\n\nVIRGIL.\n\nFrom the Greeks let us turn to the Romans. The earliest examples to\nour purpose occur in the Aeneid. And, though Virgil is a poet, yet is\nhe so correct a writer, that we may well take for granted, that he\neither records facts which had been handed down by tradition, or that,\nwhen he feigns, he feigns things strikingly in accord with the manners\nand belief of the age of which he speaks.\n\n\nPOLYDORUS.\n\nOne of the first passages that occur, is of the ghost of the deceased\nPolydorus on the coast of Thrace. Polydorus, the son of Priam, was\nmurdered by the king of that country, his host, for the sake of the\ntreasures he had brought with him from Troy. He was struck through\nwith darts made of the wood of the myrtle. The body was cast into a\npit, and earth thrown upon it. The stems of myrtle grew and flourished.\nAeneas, after the burning of Troy, first attempted a settlement in this\nplace. Near the spot where he landed he found a hillock thickly set\nwith myrtle. He attempted to gather some, thinking it might form a\nsuitable screen to an altar which he had just raised. To his\nastonishment and horror he found the branches he had plucked, dropping\nwith blood. He tried the experiment again and again. At length a voice\nfrom the mound was heard, exclaiming, \"Spare me! I am Polydorus;\" and\nwarning him to fly the blood-stained and treacherous shore.\n\n\nDIDO.\n\nWe have a more detailed tale of necromancy, when Dido, deserted by\nAeneas, resolves on self-destruction. To delude her sister as to her\nsecret purpose, she sends for a priestess from the gardens of the\nHesperides, pretending that her object is by magical incantations\nagain to relumine the passion of love in the breast of Aeneas. This\npriestess is endowed with the power, by potent verse to free the\noppressed soul from care, and by similar means to agitate the bosom\nwith passion which is free from its empire. She can arrest the\nheadlong stream, and cause the stars to return back in their orbits.\nShe can call up the ghosts of the dead. She is able to compel the\nsolid earth to rock, and the trees of the forest to descend from their\nmountains. To give effect to the infernal spell, Dido commands that a\nfuneral pyre shall be set up in the interior court of her palace, and\nthat the arms of Aeneas, what remained of his attire, and the marriage\nbed in which Dido had received him, shall be heaped upon it. The pyre\nis hung round with garlands, and adorned with branches of cypress. The\nsword of Aeneas and his picture are added. Altars are placed round the\npyre; and the priestess, with dishevelled hair, calls with terrific\ncharms upon her three hundred Gods, upon Erebus, chaos, and the\nthree-faced Hecate. She sprinkles around the waters of Avernus, and\nadds certain herbs that had been cropped by moonlight with a sickle of\nbrass. She brings with her the excrescence which is found upon the\nforehead of a new-cast foal, of the size of a dried fig, and which\nunless first eaten by the mare, the mother never admits her young to\nthe nourishment of her milk. After these preparations, Dido, with\ngarments tucked up, and with one foot bare, approached the altars,\nbreaking over them a consecrated cake, and embracing them successively\nin her arms. The pyre was then to be set on fire; and, as the\ndifferent objects placed upon it were gradually consumed, the charm\nbecame complete, and the ends proposed to the ceremony were expected\nto follow. Dido assures her sister, that she well knew the unlawfulness\nof her proceeding, and protests that nothing but irresistible necessity\nshould have compelled her to have recourse to these unhallowed arts.\nShe finally stabs herself, and expires.\n\n\nROMULUS.\n\nThe early history of Rome is, as might be expected, interspersed with\nprodigies. Romulus himself, the founder, after a prosperous reign of\nmany years, disappeared at last by a miracle. The king assembled his\narmy to a general review, when suddenly, in the midst of the ceremony,\na tempest arose, with vivid lightnings and tremendous crashes of\nthunder. Romulus became enveloped in a cloud, and, when, shortly after,\na clear sky and serene heavens succeeded, the king was no more seen,\nand the throne upon which he had sat appeared vacant. The people were\nsomewhat dissatisfied with the event, and appear to have suspected\nfoul play. But the next day Julius Proculus, a senator of the highest\ncharacter, shewed himself in the general assembly, and assured them,\nthat, with the first dawn of the morning, Romulus had stood before him,\nand certified to him that the Gods had taken him up to their celestial\nabodes, authorising him withal to declare to his citizens, that their\narms should be for ever successful against all their enemies. [105]\n\n\nNUMA.\n\nNuma was the second king of Rome: and, the object of Romulus having\nbeen to render his people soldiers and invincible in war, Numa, an old\nman and a philosopher, made it his purpose to civilise them, and\ndeeply to imbue them with sentiments of religion. He appears to have\nimagined the thing best calculated to accomplish this purpose, was to\nlead them by prodigies and the persuasion of an intercourse with the\ninvisible world. A shield fell from heaven in his time, which he\ncaused to be carefully kept and consecrated to the Gods; and he\nconceived no means so likely to be effectual to this end, as to make\neleven other shields exactly like the one which had descended by\nmiracle, so that, if an accident happened to any one, the Romans might\nbelieve that the one given to them by the divinity was still in their\npossession.[106]\n\nNuma gave to his people civil statutes, and a code of observances in\nmatters of religion; and these also were inforced with a divine\nsanction. Numa met the goddess Egeria from time to time in a cave; and\nby her was instructed in the institutions he should give to the Romans:\nand this barbarous people, awed by the venerable appearance of their\nking, by the sanctity of his manners, and still more by the divine\nfavour which was so signally imparted to him, received his mandates\nwith exemplary reverence, and ever after implicitly conformed\nthemselves to all that he had suggested. [107]\n\n\nTULLUS HOSTILIUS.\n\nTullus Hostilius, the third king of Rome, restored again the policy of\nRomulus. In his time, Alba, the parent state, was subdued and united\nto its more flourishing colony. In the mean time Tullus, who during\nthe greater part of his reign had been distinguished by martial\nachievements, in the latter part became the victim of superstitions.\nA shower of stones fell from heaven, in the manner, as Livy tells us,\nof a hail-storm. A plague speedily succeeded to this prodigy. [108]\nTullus, awed by these events, gave his whole attention to the rites of\nreligion. Among other things he found in the sacred books of Numa an\naccount of a certain ceremony, by which, if rightly performed, the\nappearance of a God, named Jupiter Elicius, would be conjured up. But\nTullus, who had spent his best days in the ensanguined field, proved\ninadequate to this new undertaking. Some defects having occurred in\nhis performance of the magical ceremony, not only no God appeared at\nhis bidding, but, the anger of heaven being awakened, a thunderbolt\nfell on the palace, and the king, and the place of his abode were\nconsumed together. [109]\n\n\nACCIUS NAVIUS.\n\nIn the reign of Tarquinius Priscus, the fifth king of Rome, another\nfamous prodigy is recorded. The king had resolved to increase the\nnumber of the Roman cavalry. Romulus had raised the first body with\nthe customary ceremony of augury. Tarquinius proposed to proceed in\nthe present case, omitting this ceremony. Accius Navius, the chief\naugur, protested against the innovation. Tarquin, in contempt of his\ninterference, addressed Accius, saying, \"Come, augur, consult your\nbirds, and tell me, whether the thing I have now in my mind can be\ndone, or cannot be done.\" Accius proceeded according to the rules of\nhis art, and told the king it could be done. \"What I was thinking of,\"\nreplied Tarquinius, \"was whether you could cut this whetstone in two\nwith this razor.\" Accius immediately took the one instrument and the\nother, and performed the prodigy in the face of the assembled people.\n[110]\n\n\nSERVIUS TULLIUS.\n\nServius Tullius, the sixth king of Rome, was the model of a\ndisinterested and liberal politician, and gave to his subjects those\ninstitutions to which, more than to any other cause, they were indebted\nfor their subsequent greatness. Tarquinius subjected nearly the whole\npeople of Latium to his rule, capturing one town of this district\nafter another. In Corniculum, one of these places, Servius Tullius,\nbeing in extreme youth, was made a prisoner of war, and subsequently\ndwelt as a slave in the king's palace. One day as he lay asleep in the\nsight of many, his head was observed to be on fire. The bystanders,\nterrified at the spectacle, hastened to bring water that they might\nextinguish the flames. The queen forbade their assiduity, regarding\nthe event as a token from the Gods. By and by the boy awoke of his own\naccord, and the flames at the same instant disappeared. The queen,\nimpressed with the prodigy, became persuaded that the youth was\nreserved for high fortunes, and directed that he should be instructed\naccordingly in all liberal knowledge. In due time he was married to\nthe daughter of Tarquinius, and was destined in all men's minds to\nsucceed in the throne, which took place in the sequel. [111]\n\nIn the year of Rome two hundred and ninety one, forty-seven years\nafter the expulsion of Tarquin, a dreadful plague broke out in the\ncity, and carried off both the consuls, the augurs, and a vast\nmultitude of the people. The following year was distinguished by\nnumerous prodigies; fires were seen in the heavens, and the earth\nshook, spectres appeared, and supernatural voices were heard, an ox\nspoke, and a shower of raw flesh fell in the fields. Most of these\nprodigies were not preternatural; the speaking ox was probably\nreceived on the report of a single hearer; and the whole was invested\nwith exaggerated terror by means of the desolation of the preceding\nyear. [112]\n\n\nTHE SORCERESS OF VIRGIL.\n\nProdigies are plentifully distributed through the earlier parts of the\nRoman history; but it is not our purpose to enter into a chronological\ndetail on the subject. And in reality those already given, except in\nthe instance of Tullus Hostilius, do not entirely fall within the\nscope of the present volume. The Roman poets, Virgil, Horace, Ovid and\nLucan, give a fuller insight than the Latin prose-writers, into the\nconceptions of their countrymen upon the subject of incantations and\nmagic.\n\nThe eighth eclogue of Virgil, entitled Pharmaceutria, is particularly\nto our purpose in this point. There is an Idyll of Theocritus under\nthe same name; but it is of an obscurer character; and the enchantress\nis not, like that of Virgil, triumphant in the success of her arts.\n\nThe sorceress is introduced by Virgil, giving direction to her female\nattendant as to the due administration of her charms. Her object is to\nrecal Daphnis, whom she styles her husband, to his former love for her.\nAt the same time, she says, she will endeavour by magic to turn him\naway from his wholesome sense. She directs her attendant to burn\nvervain and frankincense; and she ascribes the highest efficacy to the\nsolemn chant, which, she says, can call down the moon from its sphere,\ncan make the cold-blooded snake burst in the field, and was the means\nby which Circe turned the companions of Ulysses into beasts. She\norders his image to be thrice bound round with fillets of three\ncolours, and then that it be paraded about a prepared altar, while in\nbinding the knots the attendant shall still say, \"Thus do I bind the\nfillets of Venus.\" One image of clay and one of wax are placed before\nthe same fire; and as the image of clay hardens, so does the heart of\nDaphnis harden towards his new mistress; and as the image of wax\nsoftens, so is the heart of Daphnis made tender towards the sorceress.\nShe commands a consecrated cake to be broken over the image, and\ncrackling laurels to be burned before it, that as Daphnis had\ntormented her by his infidelity, so he in his turn may be agitated\nwith a returning constancy. She prays that as the wanton heifer\npursues the steer through woods and glens, till at length, worn out\nwith fatigue, she lies down on the oozy reeds by the banks of the\nstream, and the night-dew is unable to induce her to withdraw, so\nDaphnis may be led on after her for ever with inextinguishable love.\nShe buries the relics of what had belonged to Daphnis beneath her\nthreshold. She bruises poisonous herbs of resistless virtue which had\nbeen gathered in the kingdom of Pontus, herbs, which enabled him who\ngave them to turn himself into a hungry wolf prowling amidst the\nforests, to call up ghosts from the grave, and to translate the\nripened harvest from the field where it grew to the lands of another.\nShe orders her attendant to bring out to the face of heaven the ashes\nof these herbs, and [Errata: _dele_ and] to cast them over her\nhead into the running stream, and at the same time taking care not to\nlook behind her. After all her efforts the sorceress begins to despair.\nShe says, \"Daphnis heeds not my incantations, heeds not the Gods.\" She\nlooks again; she perceives the ashes on the altar emit sparkles of\nfire; she hears her faithful house-dog bark before the door; she says,\n\"Can these things be; or do lovers dream what they desire? It is not\nso! The real Daphnis comes; I hear his steps; he has left the deluding\ntown; he hastens to my longing arms!\"\n\n\nCANIDIA.\n\nIn the works of Horace occurs a frightful and repulsive, but a curious\ndetail of a scene of incantation. [113] Four sorceresses are\nrepresented as assembled, Canidia, the principal, to perform, the other\nthree to assist in, the concoction of a charm, by means of which a\ncertain youth, named Varus, for whom Canidia had conceived a passion,\nbut who regards the hag with the utmost contempt, may be made\nobsequious to her desires. Canidia appears first, the locks of her\ndishevelled hair twined round with venomous and deadly serpents,\nordering the wild fig-tree and the funereal cypress to be rooted up\nfrom the sepulchres on which they grew, and these, together with the\negg of a toad smeared with blood, the plumage of the screech-owl,\nvarious herbs brought from Thessaly and Georgia, and bones torn from\nthe jaws of a famished dog, to be burned in flames fed with perfumes\nfrom Colchis. Of the assistant witches, one traces with hurried steps\nthe edifice, sprinkling it, as she goes, with drops from the Avernus,\nher hair on her head stiff and erect, like the quills of the\nsea-hedge-hog, or the bristles of a hunted boar; and another, who is\nbelieved by all the neighbourhood to have the faculty of conjuring the\nstars and the moon down from heaven, contributes her aid.\n\nBut, which is most horrible, the last of the assistant witches is seen,\narmed with a spade, and, with earnest and incessant labour, throwing\nup earth, that she may dig a trench, in which is to be plunged up to\nhis chin a beardless youth, stripped of his purple robe, the emblem of\nhis noble descent, and naked, that, from his marrow already dry and\nhis liver (when at length his eye-balls, long fixed on the still\nrenovated food which is withheld from his famished jaws, have no more\nthe power to discern), may be concocted the love-potion, from which\nthese hags promise themselves the most marvellous results.\n\nHorace presents before us the helpless victim of their malice, already\ninclosed in the fatal trench, first viewing their orgies with affright,\nasking, by the Gods who rule the earth and all the race of mortals,\nwhat means the tumult around him? He then intreats Canidia, by her\nchildren if ever she had offspring, by the visible evidences of his\nhigh rank, and by the never-failing vengeance of Jupiter upon such\nmisdeeds, to say why she casts on him glances, befitting the fury of a\nstepmother, or suited to a beast already made desperate by the wounds\nof the hunter.\n\nAt length, no longer exhausting himself in fruitless intreaties, the\nvictim has recourse in his agonies to curses on his executioners. He\nsays, his ghost shall haunt them for ever, for no vengeance can\nexpiate such cruelty. He will tear their cheeks with his fangs, for\nthat power is given to the shades below. He will sit, a night-mare, on\ntheir bosoms, driving away sleep from their eyes; while the enraged\npopulace shall pursue them with stones, and the wolves shall gnaw and\nhowl over their unburied members. The unhappy youth winds up all with\nthe remark, that his parents who will survive him, shall themselves\nwitness this requital of the sorceresses' infernal deeds.\n\nCanidia, unmoved by these menaces and execrations, complains of the\nslow progress of her charms. She gnaws her fingers with rage. She\ninvokes the night and the moon, beneath whose rays these preparations\nare carried on, now, while the wild beasts lie asleep in the forests,\nand while the dogs alone bay the superanuated letcher, who relies\nsingly on the rich scents with which he is perfumed for success, to\nspeed her incantations, and signalise their power beneath the roof of\nhim whose love she seeks. She impatiently demands why her drugs should\nbe of less avail than those of Medea, with which she poisoned a\ngarment, that, once put on, caused Creusa, daughter of the king of\nCorinth, to expire in intolerable torments? She discovers that Varus\nhad hitherto baffled her power by means of some magical antidote; and\nshe resolves to prepare a mightier charm, that nothing from earth or\nhell shall resist. \"Sooner,\" she says, \"shall the sky be swallowed up\nin the sea, and the earth be stretched a covering over both, than thou,\nmy enemy, shalt not be wrapped in the flames of love, as subtle and\ntenacious as those of burning pitch.\"\n\nIt is not a little curious to remark the operation of the antagonist\nprinciples of superstition and scepticism among the Romans in this\nenlightened period, as it comes illustrated to us in the compositions\nof Horace on this subject. In the piece, the contents of which have\njust been given, things are painted in all the solemnity and terror\nwhich is characteristic of the darkest ages. But, a few pages further\non, we find the poet in a mock Palinodia deprecating the vengeance of\nthe sorceress, who, he says, has already sufficiently punished him by\nturning through her charms his flaxen hair to hoary white, and\noverwhelming him by day and night with ceaseless anxieties. He feels\nhimself through her powerful magic tortured, like Hercules in the\nenvenomed shirt of Nessus, or as if he were cast down into the flames\nof Aetna; nor does he hope that she will cease compounding a thousand\ndeadly ingredients against him, till his very ashes shall have been\nscattered by the resistless winds. He offers therefore to expiate his\noffence at her pleasure either by a sacrifice of an hundred oxen, or\nby a lying ode, in which her chastity and spotless manners shall be\napplauded to the skies.\n\nWhat Ovid gives is only a new version of the charms and philtres of\nMedea. [114]\n\n\nERICHTHO.\n\nLucan, in his Pharsalia, [115] takes occasion, immediately before the\nbattle which was to decide the fate of the Roman world, to introduce\nSextus, the younger son of Pompey, as impatient to enquire, even by\nthe most sacrilegious means, into the important events which are\nimmediately impending. He is encouraged in the attempt by the\nreflection, that the soil upon which they are now standing, Thessaly,\nhad been notorious for ages as the noxious and unwholesome seat of\nsorcery and witchcraft. The poet therefore embraces this occasion to\nexpatiate on the various modes in which this detested art was\nconsidered as displaying itself. And, however he may have been\nambitious to seize this opportunity to display the wealth of his\nimagination, the whole does not fail to be curious, as an exhibition\nof the system of magical power so far as the matter in hand is\nconcerned.\n\nThe soil of Thessaly, says the poet, is in the utmost degree fertile\nin poisonous herbs, and her rocks confess the power of the sepulchral\nsong of the magician. There a vegetation springs up of virtue to\ncompel the Gods; and Colchis itself imports from Thessaly treasures of\nthis sort which she cannot boast as her own. The chaunt of the\nThessalian witch penetrates the furthest seat of the Gods, and\ncontains words so powerful, that not the care of the skies, or of the\nrevolving spheres, can avail as an excuse to the deities to decline\nits force. Babylon and Memphis yield to the superior might; and the\nGods of foreign climes fly to fulfil the dread behests of the magician.\n\nPrompted by Thessalian song, love glides into the hardest hearts; and\neven the severity of age is taught to burn with youthful fires. The\ningredients of the poisoned cup, nor the excrescence found on the\nforehead of the new-cast foal, can rival in efficacy the witching\nincantation. The soul is melted by its single force. The heart which\nnot all the attractions of the genial bed could fire, nor the\ninfluence of the most beautiful form, the wheel of the sorceress shall\nforce from its bent.\n\nBut the effects are perhaps still more marvellous that are produced on\ninanimate and unintellectual nature. The eternal succession of the\nworld is suspended; day delays to rise on the earth; the skies no\nlonger obey their ruler. Nature becomes still at the incantation: and\nJove, accustomed to guide the machine, is astonished to find the poles\ndisobedient to his impulse. Now the sorceress deluges the plains with\nrain, hides the face of heaven with murky clouds, and the thunders\nroll, unbidden by the thunderer. Anon she shakes her hair, and the\ndarkness is dispersed, and the whole horizon is cleared. At one time\nthe sea rages, urged by no storm; and at another is smooth as glass,\nin defiance of the tempestuous North. The breath of the enchanter\ncarries along the bark in the teeth of the wind; the headlong torrent\nis suspended, and rivers run back to their source. The Nile overflows\nnot in the summer; the crooked Meander shapes to itself a direct\ncourse; the sluggish Arar gives new swiftness to the rapid Rhone; and\nthe mountains bow their heads to their foundations. Clouds shroud the\npeaks of the cloudless Olympus; and the Scythian snows dissolve,\nunurged by the sun. The sea, though impelled by the tempestuous\nconstellations, is counteracted by witchcraft, and no longer beats\nalong the shore. Earthquakes shake the solid globe; and the affrighted\ninhabitants behold both hemispheres at once. The animals most dreaded\nfor their fury, and whose rage is mortal, become tame; the hungry\ntiger and the lordly lion fawn at the sorceress's feet; the snake\nuntwines all her folds amidst the snow; the viper, divided by wounds,\nunites again its severed parts; and the envenomed serpent pines and\ndies under the power of a breath more fatal than his own.\n\nWhat, exclaims the poet, is the nature of the compulsion thus\nexercised on the Gods, this obedience to song and to potent herbs,\nthis fear to disobey and scorn the enchanter? Do they yield from\nnecessity, or is it a voluntary subjection? Is it the piety of these\nhags that obtains the reward, or by menaces do they secure their\npurpose? Are all the Gods subject to this control, or, is there one\nGod upon whom it has power, who, himself compelled, compels the\nelements? The stars fall from heaven at their command. The silver moon\nyields to their execrations, and burns with a smouldering flame, even\nas when the earth comes between her and the sun, and by its shadow\nintercepts its rays; thus is the moon brought lower and more low, till\nshe covers with her froth the herbs destined to receive her malignant\ninfluence.\n\nBut Erichtho, the witch of the poet, flouts all these arts, as too\npoor and timid for her purposes. She never allows a roof to cover her\nhorrid head, or confesses the influence of the Houshold Gods. She\ninhabits the deserted tomb, and dwells in a grave from which the ghost\nof the dead has been previously expelled. She knows the Stygian abodes,\nand the counsels of the infernals. Her countenance is lean; and her\ncomplexion overspread with deadly paleness. Her hair is neglected and\nmatted. But when clouds and tempests obscure the stars, then she comes\nforth, and defies the midnight lightning. Wherever she treads, the\nfruits of the earth become withered, and the wholesome air is poisoned\nwith her breath. She offers no prayers, and pours forth no\nsupplications; she has recourse to no divination. She delights to\nprofane the sacred altar with a funereal flame, and pollutes the\nincense with a torch from the pyre. The Gods yield at once to her\nvoice, nor dare to provoke her to a second mandate. She incloses the\nliving man within the confines of the grave; she subjects to sudden\ndeath those who were destined to a protracted age; and she brings back\nto life the corses of the dead. She snatches the smoaking cinders,\nand the bones whitened with flame, from the midst of the pile, and\nwrests the torch from the hand of the mourning parent. She seizes the\nfragments of the burning shroud, and the embers yet moistened with\nblood. But, where the sad remains are already hearsed in marble, it is\nthere that she most delights to exercise her sacrilegious power. She\ntears the limbs of the dead, and digs out their eyes. She gnaws their\nfingers. She separates with her teeth the rope on the gibbet, and\ntears away the murderer from the cross on which he hung suspended. She\napplies to her purposes the entrails withered with the wind, and the\nmarrow that had been dried by the sun. She bears away the nails which\nhad pierced the hands and feet of the criminal, the clotted blood\nwhich had distilled from his wounds, and the sinews that had held him\nsuspended. She pounces upon the body of the dead in the battle-field,\nanticipating the vulture and the beast of prey; but she does not\ndivide the limbs with a knife, nor tear them asunder with her hands:\nshe watches the approach of the wolf, that she may wrench the morsels\nfrom his hungry jaws. Nor does the thought of murder deter her, if her\nrites require the living blood, first spurting from the lacerated\nthroat. She drags forth the foetus from its pregnant mother, by a\npassage which violence has opened. Wherever there is occasion for a\nbolder and more remorseless ghost, with her own hand she dismisses him\nfrom life; man at every period of existence furnishes her with\nmaterials. She drags away the first down from the cheek of the\nstripling, and with her left hand cuts the favourite lock from the\nhead of the young man. Often she watches with seemingly pious care the\ndying hours of a relative, and seizes the occasion to bite his lips,\nto compress his windpipe, and whisper in his expiring organ some\nmessage to the infernal shades.\n\nSextus, guided by the general fame of this woman, sought her in her\nhaunts. He chose his time, in the depth of the night, when the sun is\nat its lowermost distance from the upper sky. He took his way through\nthe desert fields. He took for companions the associates, the\naccustomed ministers of his crimes. Wandering among broken graves and\ncrumbling sepulchres, they discovered her, sitting sublime on a ragged\nrock, where mount Haemus stretches its roots to the Pharsalic field.\nShe was mumbling charms of the Magi and the magical Gods. For she\nfeared that the war might yet be transferred to other than the\nEmathian fields. The sorceress was busy therefore enchanting the soil\nof Philippi, and scattering on its surface the juice of potent herbs,\nthat it might be heaped with carcasses of the dead, and saturated with\ntheir blood, that Macedon, and not Italy, might receive the bodies of\ndeparted kings and the bones of the noble, and might be amply peopled\nwith the shades of men. Her choicest labour was as to the earth where\nshould be deposited the prostrate Pompey, or the limbs of the mighty\nCaesar.\n\nSextus approached, and bespoke her thus: \"Oh, glory of Haemonia, that\nhast the power to divulge the fates of men, or canst turn aside fate\nitself from its prescribed course, I pray thee to exercise thy gift in\ndisclosing events to come. Not the meanest of the Roman race am I, the\noffspring of an illustrious chieftain, lord of the world in the one\ncase, or in the other the destined heir to my father's calamity. I\nstand on a tremendous and giddy height: snatch me from this posture of\ndoubt; let me not blindly rush on, and blindly fall; extort this\nsecret from the Gods, or force the dead to confess what they know.\"\n\nTo whom the Thessalian crone replied: \"If you asked to change the fate\nof an individual, though it were to restore an old man, decrepid with\nage, to vigorous youth, I could comply; but to break the eternal chain\nof causes and consequences exceeds even our power. You seek however\nonly a foreknowledge of events to come, and you shall be gratified.\nMeanwhile it were best, where slaughter has afforded so ample a field,\nto select the body of one newly deceased, and whose flexible organs\nshall be yet capable of speech, not with lineaments already hardened\nin the sun.\"\n\nSaying thus, Erichtho proceeded (having first with her art made the\nnight itself more dark, and involved her head in a pitchy cloud), to\nexplore the field, and examine one by one the bodies of the unburied\ndead. As she approached, the wolves fled before her, and the birds of\nprey, unwillingly sheathing their talons, abandoned their repast,\nwhile the Thessalian witch, searching into the vital parts of the\nframes before her, at length fixed on one whose lungs were uninjured,\nand whose organs of speech had sustained no wound. The fate of many\nhung in doubt, till she had made her selection. Had the revival of\nwhole armies been her will, armies would have stood up obedient to her\nbidding. She passed a hook beneath the jaw of the selected one, and,\nfastening it to a cord, dragged him along over rocks and stones, till\nshe reached a cave, overhung by a projecting ridge. A gloomy fissure\nin the ground was there, of a depth almost reaching to the Infernal\nGods, where the yew-tree spread thick its horizontal branches, at all\ntimes excluding the light of the sun. Fearful and withering shade was\nthere, and noisome slime cherished by the livelong night. The air was\nheavy and flagging as that of the Taenarian promontory; and hither the\nGod of hell permits his ghosts to extend their wanderings. It is\ndoubtful whether the sorceress called up the dead to attend her here,\nor herself descended to the abodes of Pluto. She put on a fearful and\nvariegated robe; she covered her face with her dishevelled hair, and\nbound her brow with a wreath of vipers.\n\nMeanwhile she observed Sextus afraid, with his eyes fixed on the\nground, and his companions trembling; and thus she reproached them.\n\"Lay aside,\" she said, \"your vainly-conceived terrors! You shall\nbehold only a living and a human figure, whose accents you may listen\nto with perfect security. If this alarms you, what would you say, if\nyou should have seen the Stygian lakes, and the shores burning with\nsulphur unconsumed, if the furies stood before you, and Cerberus with\nhis mane of vipers, and the giants chained in eternal adamant? Yet all\nthese you might have witnessed unharmed; for all these would quail at\nthe terror of my brow.\"\n\nShe spoke, and next plied the dead body with her arts. She supples his\nwounds, and infuses fresh blood into his veins: she frees his scars\nfrom the clotted gore, and penetrates them with froth from the moon.\nShe mixes whatever nature has engendered in its most fearful caprices,\nfoam from the jaws of a mad dog, the entrails of the lynx, the backbone\nof the hyena, and the marrow of a stag that had dieted on serpents,\nthe sinews of the remora, and the eyes of a dragon, the eggs of the\neagle, the flying serpent of Arabia, the viper that guards the pearl\nin the Red Sea, the slough of the hooded snake, and the ashes that\nremain when the phoenix has been consumed. To these she adds all venom\nthat has a name, the foliage of herbs over which she has sung her\ncharms, and on which she had voided her rheum as they grew.\n\nAt length she chaunts her incantation to the Stygian Gods, in a voice\ncompounded of all discords, and altogether alien to human organs. It\nresembles at once the barking of a dog, and the howl of a wolf; it\nconsists of the hooting of the screech-owl, the yelling of a ravenous\nwild beast, and the fearful hiss of a serpent. It borrows somewhat\nfrom the roar of tempestuous waves, the hollow rushing of the winds\namong the branches of the forest, and the tremendous crash of\ndeafening thunder.\n\n\"Ye furies,\" she cries, \"and dreadful Styx, ye sufferings of the\ndamned, and Chaos, for ever eager to destroy the fair harmony of\nworlds, and thou, Pluto, condemned to an eternity of ungrateful\nexistence, Hell, and Elysium, of which no Thessalian witch shall\npartake, Proserpine, for ever cut off from thy health-giving mother,\nand horrid Hecate, Cerebrus [Errata: _read_ Cerberus] curst with\nincessant hunger, ye Destinies, and Charon endlessly murmuring at the\ntask I impose of bringing back the dead again to the land of the\nliving, hear me!--if I call on you with a voice sufficiently impious\nand abominable, if I have never sung this chaunt, unsated with human\ngore, if I have frequently laid on your altars the fruit of the\npregnant mother, bathing its contents with the reeking brain, if I\nhave placed on a dish before you the head and entrails of an infant on\nthe point to be born--\n\n\"I ask not of you a ghost, already a tenant of the Tartarean abodes,\nand long familiarised to the shades below, but one who has recently\nquitted the light of day, and who yet hovers over the mouth of hell:\nlet him hear these incantations, and immediately after descend to his\ndestined place! Let him articulate suitable omens to the son of his\ngeneral, having so late been himself a soldier of the great Pompey! Do\nthis, as you love the very sound and rumour of a civil war!\"\n\nSaying this, behold, the ghost of the dead man stood erect before her,\ntrembling at the view of his own unanimated limbs, and loth to enter\nagain the confines of his wonted prison. He shrinks to invest himself\nwith the gored bosom, and the fibres from which death had separated\nhim. Unhappy wretch, to whom death had not given the privilege to die!\nErichtho, impatient at the unlooked for delay, lashes the unmoving\ncorpse with one of her serpents. She calls anew on the powers of hell,\nand threatens to pronounce the dreadful name, which cannot be\narticulated without consequences never to be thought of, nor without\nthe direst necessity to be ventured upon.\n\nAt length the congealed blood becomes liquid and warm; it oozes from\nthe wounds, and creeps steadily along the veins and the members; the\nfibres are called into action beneath the gelid breast, and the nerves\nonce more become instinct with life. Life and death are there at once.\nThe arteries beat; the muscles are braced; the body raises itself, not\nby degrees, but at a single impulse, and stands erect. The eyelids\nunclose. The countenance is not that of a living subject, but of the\ndead. The paleness of the complexion, the rigidity of the lines,\nremain; and he looks about with an unmeaning stare, but utters no\nsound. He waits on the potent enchantress.\n\n\"Speak!\" said she; \"and ample shall be your reward. You shall not\nagain be subject to the art of the magician. I will commit your\nmembers to such a sepulchre; I will burn your form with such wood, and\nwill chaunt such a charm over your funeral pyre, that all incantations\nshall thereafter assail you in vain. Be it enough, that you have once\nbeen brought back to life! Tripods, and the voice of oracles deal in\nambiguous responses; but the voice of the dead is perspicuous and\ncertain to him who receives it with an unshrinking spirit. Spare not!\nGive names to things; give places a clear designation; speak with a\nfull and articulate voice.\"\n\nSaying this, she added a further spell, qualified to give to him who\nwas to answer, a distinct knowledge of that respecting which he was\nabout to be consulted. He accordingly delivers the responses demanded\nof him; and, that done, earnestly requires of the witch to be\ndismissed. Herbs and magic rites are necessary, that the corpse may be\nagain unanimated, and the spirit never more be liable to be recalled\nto the realms of day. The sorceress constructs the funeral pile; the\ndead man places himself thereon; Erichtho applies the torch; and the\ncharm is for ever at an end.\n\nLucan in this passage is infinitely too precise, and exhausts his muse\nin a number of particulars, where he had better have been more\nsuccinct and select. He displays the prolific exuberance of a young\npoet, who had not yet taught himself the multiplied advantages of\ncompression. He had not learned the principle, _Relinquere quae\ndesperat tractata nitescere posse_. [116] But, as this is the\nfullest enumeration of the forms of witchcraft that occurs in the\nwriters of antiquity, it seemed proper to give it to the reader\nentire.\n\n\nSERTORIUS.\n\nThe story of Sertorius and his hind, which occurred about thirty years\nbefore, may not be improperly introduced here. It is told by Plutarch\nin the spirit of a philosopher, and as a mere deception played by that\ngeneral, to render the barbarous people of Spain more devoted to his\nservice. But we must suppose that it had, at least for the time, the\nfull effect of something preternatural. Sertorius was one of the most\nhighly gifted and well balanced characters that is to be found in\nRoman story. He considered with the soundest discernment the nature of\nthe persons among whom he was to act, and conducted himself\naccordingly. The story in Plutarch is this.\n\n\"So soone as Sertorius arriued from Africa, he straight leauied men of\nwarre, and with them subdued the people of Spaine fronting upon his\nmarches, of which the more part did willingly submit themselves, upon\nthe bruit that ran of him to be mercifull and courteous, and a valiant\nman besides in present danger, Furthermore, he lacked no fine deuises\nand subtilties to win their goodwils: as among others, the policy, and\ndeuise of the hind. There was a poore man of the countrey called\nSpanus, who meeting by chance one day with a hind in his way that had\nnewly calved, flying from the hunters, he let the damme go, not being\nable to take her; and running after her calfe tooke it, which was a\nyoung hind, and of a strange haire, for she was all milk-white. It\nchanced so, that Sertorius was at that time in those parts. So, this\npoore man presented Sertorius with his young hind, which he gladly\nreceiued, and which with time he made so tame, that she would come to\nhim when he called her, and follow him where-euer he went, being\nnothing the wilder for the daily sight of such a number of armed\nsouldiers together as they were, nor yet afraid of the noise and\ntumult of the campe. Insomuch as Sertorius by little and little made\nit a miracle, making the simple barbarous people beleeue that it was a\ngift that Diana had sent him, by the which she made him understand of\nmany and sundrie things to come: knowing well inough of himselfe, that\nthe barbarous people were men easily deceiued, and quickly caught by\nany subtill superstition, besides that by art also he brought them to\nbeleeue it as a thing verie true. For when he had any secret\nintelligence giuen him, that the enemies would inuade some part of the\ncountries and prouinces subject vnto him, or that they had taken any\nof his forts from him by any intelligence or sudden attempt, he\nstraight told them that his hind spake to him as he slept, and had\nwarned him both to arme his men, and put himselfe in strength. In like\nmanner if he had heard any newes that one of his lieutenants had wonne\na battell, or that he had any aduantage of his enemies, he would hide\nthe messenger, and bring his hind abroad with a garland and coller of\nnosegayes: and then say, it was a token of some good newes comming\ntowards him, perswading them withall to be of good cheare; and so did\nsacrifice to the Gods, to giue them thankes for the good tidings he\nshould heare before it were long. Thus by putting this superstition\ninto their heades, he made them the more tractable and obedient to his\nwill, in so much as they thought they were not now gouerned any more\nby a stranger wiser than themselues, but were steadfastly perswaded\nthat they were rather led by some certaine God.\"--\n\n\"Now was Sertorius very heauie, that no man could tell him what was\nbecome of his white hind: for thereby all his subtilltie and finenesse\nto keepe the barbarous people in obedience was taken away, and then\nspecially when they stood in need of most comfort. But by good hap,\ncertaine of his souldiers that had lost themselves in the night, met\nwith the hind in their way, and knowing her by her colour, tooke her\nand brought her backe againe. Sertorius hearing of her, promised them\na good reward, so that they would tell no liuing creature that they\nbrought her againe, and thereupon made her to be secretly kept. Then\nwithin a few dayes after, he came abroad among them, and with a\npleasant countenance told the noble men and chiefe captaines of these\nbarbarous people, how the Gods had reuealed it to him in his dreame,\nthat he should shortly have a maruellous good thing happen to him: and\nwith these words sate downe in his chaire to give audience. Whereupon\nthey that kept the hind not farre from thence, did secretly let her go.\nThe hind being loose, when she had spied Sertorius, ranne straight to\nhis chaire with great joy, and put her head betwixt his legges, and\nlayed her mouth in his right hand, as she before was wont to do.\nSertorius also made very much of her, and of purpose appeared\nmaruellous glad, shewing such tender affection to the hind, as it\nseemed the water stood in his eyes for joy. The barbarous people that\nstood there by and beheld the same, at the first were much amazed\ntherewith, but afterwards when they had better bethought themselues,\nfor ioy they clapped their hands together, and waited upon Sertorius\nto his lodging with great and ioyfull shouts, saying, and steadfastly\nbeleeuing, that he he was a heavenly creature, and beloued of the\nGods.\" [117]\n\n\nCASTING OUT DEVILS.\n\nWe are now brought down to the era of the Christian religion; and\nthere is repeated mention of sorcery in the books of the New Testament.\n\nOne of the most frequent miracles recorded of Jesus Christ is called\nthe \"casting out devils.\" The Pharisees in the Evangelist, for the\npurpose of depreciating this evidence of his divine mission, are\nrecorded to have said, \"this fellow doth not cast out devils, but by\nBeelzebub, the prince of devils.\" Jesus, among other remarks in\nrefutation of this opprobrium, rejoins upon them, \"If I by Beelzebub\ncast out devils, by whom do your children cast them out?\" [118] Here\nthen we have a plain insinuation of sorcery from the lips of Christ\nhimself, at the same time that he appears to admit that his\nadversaries produced supernatural achievements similar to his own.\n\n\nSIMON MAGUS.\n\nBut the most remarkable passage in the New Testament on the subject of\nsorcery, is one which describes the proceedings of Simon Magus, as\nfollows.\n\n\"Then Philip went down to the city of Samaria, and preached Christ\nunto them. But there was a certain man, called Simon, which before\ntime in the same city used sorcery, and bewitched the people of\nSamaria, giving out that himself was some great one. To whom they all\ngave heed, from the least to the greatest, saying, This man is the\ngreat power of God. And to him they had regard, because that of long\ntime he had bewitched them with sorceries. But, when they believed\nPhilip, preaching the things concerning the kingdom of God and the\nname of Jesus Christ, they were baptized both men and women. Then\nSimon himself believed also. And, when he was baptized, he continued\nwith Philip, and wondered, beholding the miracles and signs which were\ndone.\n\n\"Now, when the apostles which were at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had\nreceived the word of God, they sent unto them Peter and John. Who,\nwhen they were come down, prayed for them, that they might receive the\nHoly Ghost. For as yet he was fallen upon none of them: only they were\nbaptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. Then laid they their hands on\nthem, and they received the Holy Ghost.\n\n\"And, when Simon saw that, through the laying on of the apostles'\nhands, the Holy Ghost was given, he offered them money, saying, Give\nme also this power, that on whomsoever I lay hands he may receive the\nHoly Ghost. But Peter said unto him, Thy money perish with thee!\nbecause thou hast thought that the gift of God might be purchased with\nmoney. Thou hast neither part nor lot in this matter: for thy heart is\nnot right in the sight of God. Repent therefore of this thy wickedness,\nand pray God, if perhaps the thought of thy heart may be forgiven thee:\nfor I perceive that thou art in the gall of bitterness, and in the\nbond of iniquity. Then answered Simon, and said, Pray ye to the Lord\nfor me, that none of these things which ye have spoken come upon me.\"\n[119]\n\nThis passage of the New Testament leaves us in considerable uncertainty\nas to the nature of the sorceries, by which \"of a long time Simon had\nbewitched the people of Samaria.\" But the fathers of the church,\nClemens Romanus and Anastasius Sinaita, have presented us with a\ndetail of the wonders he actually performed. When and to whom he\npleased he made himself invisible; he created a man out of air; he\npassed through rocks and mountains without encountering an obstacle;\nhe threw himself from a precipice uninjured; he flew along in the air;\nhe flung himself in the fire without being burned. Bolts and chains\nwere impotent to detain him. He animated statues, so that they\nappeared to every beholder to be men and women; he made all the\nfurniture of the house and the table to change places as required,\nwithout a visible mover; he metamorphosed his countenance and visage\ninto that of another person; he could make himself into a sheep, or a\ngoat, or a serpent; he walked through the streets attended with a\nmultitude of strange figures, which he affirmed to be the souls of the\ndeparted; he made trees and branches of trees suddenly to spring up\nwhere he pleased; he set up and deposed kings at will; he caused a\nsickle to go into a field of corn, which unassisted would mow twice as\nfast as the most industrious reaper. [120]\n\nThus endowed, it is difficult to imagine what he thought he would have\ngained by purchasing from the apostles their gift of working miracles.\nBut Clemens Romanus informs us that he complained that, in his\nsorceries, he was obliged to employ tedious ceremonies and\nincantations; whereas the apostles appeared to effect their wonders\nwithout difficulty and effort, by barely speaking a word. [121]\n\n\nELYMAS, THE SORCERER.\n\nBut Simon Magus is not the only magician spoken of in the New\nTestament. When the apostle Paul came to Paphos in the isle of Cyprus,\nhe found the Roman governor divided in his preference between Paul and\nElymas, the sorcerer, who before the governor withstood Paul to his\nface. Then Paul, prompted by his indignation, said, \"Oh, full of all\nsubtlety and mischief, child of the devil, enemy of all righteousness,\nwilt thou not cease to pervert the right ways of the Lord? And now,\nbehold, the hand of the Lord is upon thee, and thou shalt be blind,\nnot seeing the sun for a season.\" What wonders Elymas effected to\ndeceive the Roman governor we are not told: but \"immediately there\nfell on him a mist and a darkness; and he went about, seeking some to\nlead him by the hand.\" [122]\n\nIn another instance we find certain vagabond Jews, exorcists, who\npretended to cast out devils from the possessed. But they came to the\napostle, and \"confessed, and shewed their deeds. Many of them also\nwhich used curious arts, brought their books together, and burned them\nbefore all. And they counted the price of them, and found it fifty\nthousand pieces of silver.\" [123]\n\nIt is easy to see however on which side the victory lay. The apostles\nby their devotion and the integrity of their proceedings triumphed;\nwhile those whose only motive was selfishness, the applause of the\nvulgar, or the admiration of the superficial, gained the honours of a\nday, and were then swept away into the gulf of general oblivion.\n\n\nNERO.\n\nThe arts of the magician are said to have been called into action by\nNero upon occasion of the assassination of his mother, Agrippina. He\nwas visited with occasional fits of the deepest remorse in the\nrecollection of his enormity. Notwithstanding all the ostentatious\napplauses and congratulations which he obtained from the senate, the\narmy and the people, he complained that he was perpetually haunted\nwith the ghost of his mother, and pursued by the furies with flaming\ntorches and whips. He therefore caused himself to be attended by\nmagicians, who employed their arts to conjure up the shade of\nAgrippina, and to endeavour to obtain her forgiveness for the crime\nperpetrated by her son. [124] We are not informed of the success of\ntheir evocations.\n\n\nVESPASIAN.\n\nIn the reign of Vespasian we meet with a remarkable record of\nsupernatural power, though it does not strictly fall under the head of\nmagic. It is related by both Tacitus and Suetonius. Vespasian having\ntaken up his abode for some months at Alexandria, a blind man, of the\ncommon people, came to him, earnestly intreating the emperor to assist\nin curing his infirmity, alleging that he was prompted to apply by the\nadmonition of the God Serapis, and importuning the prince to anoint\nhis cheeks and the balls of his eyes with the royal spittle. Vespasian\nat first treated the supplication with disdain; but at length, moved\nby the fervour of the petitioner, inforced as it was by the flattery\nof his courtiers, the emperor began to think that every thing would\ngive way to his prosperous fortune, and yielded to the poor man's\ndesire. With a confident carriage therefore, the multitude of those\nwho stood by being full of expectation, he did as he was requested,\nand the desired success immediately followed. Another supplicant\nappeared at the same time, who had lost the use of his hands, and\nintreated Vespasian to touch the diseased members with his foot; and\nhe also was cured.[125]\n\nHume has remarked that many circumstances contribute to give\nauthenticity to this miracle, \"if,\" as he says, \"any evidence could\navail to establish so palpable a falsehood. The gravity, solidity, age\nand probity of so great an emperor, who, through the whole course of\nhis life, conversed in a familiar manner with his friends and\ncourtiers, and never affected any airs of divinity: the historian, a\ncontemporary writer, noted for candour and veracity, and perhaps the\ngreatest and most penetrating genius of all antiquity: and lastly, the\npersons from whose authority he related the miracle, who we may\npresume to have been of established character for judgment and honour;\neye-witnesses of the fact, and confirming their testimony, as Tacitus\ngoes on to say, after the Flavian family ceased to be in power, and\ncould no longer give any reward as the price of a lie.\" [126]\n\n\nAPOLLONIUS OF TYANA.\n\nApollonius of Tyana in Asia Minor was born nearly at the same time as\nJesus Christ, and acquired great reputation while he lived, and for a\nconsiderable time after. He was born of wealthy parents, and seems\nearly to have betrayed a passion for philosophy. His father,\nperceiving this, placed him at fourteen years of age under Euthydemus,\na rhetorician of Tarsus; but the youth speedily became dissatisfied\nwith the indolence and luxury of the citizens, and removed himself to\nAegas, a neighbouring town, where was a temple of Aesculapius, and where\nthe God was supposed sometimes to appear in person. Here he became\nprofessedly a disciple of the sect of Pythagoras. He refrained from\nanimal food, and subsisted entirely on fruits and herbs. He went\nbarefoot, and wore no article of clothing made from the skins of\nanimals. [127] He further imposed on himself a noviciate of five years\nsilence. At the death of his father, he divided his patrimony equally\nwith his brother; and, that brother having wasted his estate by\nprodigality, he again made an equal division with him of what\nremained. [128] He travelled to Babylon and Susa in pursuit of\nknowledge, and even among the Brachmans of India, and appears\nparticularly to have addicted himself to the study of magic. [129] He\nwas of a beautiful countenance and a commanding figure, and, by means\nof these things, combined with great knowledge, a composed and\nstriking carriage, and much natural eloquence, appears to have won\nuniversal favour wherever he went. He is said to have professed the\nunderstanding of all languages without learning them, to read the\nthoughts of men, and to be able to interpret the language of animals.\nA power of working miracles attended him in all places. [130]\n\nOn one occasion he announced to the people of Ephesus the approach of\na terrible pestilence; but the citizens paid no attention to his\nprophecy. The calamity however having overtaken them, they sent to\nApollonius who was then at Smyrna, to implore his assistance. He\nobeyed the summons. Having assembled the inhabitants, there was seen\namong them a poor, old and decrepid beggar, clothed in rags, hideous\nof visage, and with a peculiarly fearful and tremendous expression in\nhis eyes. Apollonius called out to the Ephesians, \"This is an enemy to\nthe Gods; turn all your animosity against him, and stone him to death!\"\nThe old man in the most piteous tones besought their mercy. The\ncitizens were shocked with the inhumanity of the prophet. Some however\nof the more thoughtless flung a few stones, without any determined\npurpose. The old man, who had stood hitherto crouching, and with his\neyes half-closed, now erected his figure, and cast on the crowd\nglances, fearful, and indeed diabolical. The Ephesians understood at\nonce that this was the genius of the plague. They showered upon him\nstones without mercy, so as not only to cover him, but to produce a\nconsiderable mound where he had stood. After a time Apollonius\ncommanded them to take away the stones, that they might discover what\nsort of an enemy they had destroyed. Instead of a man they now saw an\nenormous black dog, of the size of a lion, and whose mouth and jaws\nwere covered with a thick envenomed froth. [131]\n\nAnother miracle was performed by Apollonius in favour of a young man,\nnamed Menippus of Corinth, five and twenty years of age, for whom the\nprophet entertained a singular favour. This man conceived himself to\nbe beloved by a rich and beautiful woman, who made advances to him,\nand to whom he was on the point of being contracted in marriage.\nApollonius warned his young friend against the match in an enigmatical\nway, telling him that he nursed a serpent in his bosom. This however\ndid not deter Menippus. All things were prepared; and the wedding\ntable was spread. Apollonius meanwhile came among them, and prevented\nthe calamity. He told the young man that the dishes before him, the\nwine he was drinking, the vessels of gold and silver that appeared\naround him, and the very guests themselves were unreal and illusory;\nand to prove his words, he caused them immediately to vanish. The\nbride alone was refractory. She prayed the philosopher not to torment\nher, and not to compel her to confess what she was. He was however\ninexorable. She at length owned that she was an empuse (a sort of\nvampire), and that she had determined to cherish and pamper Menippus,\nthat she might in the conclusion eat his flesh, and lap up his blood.\n[132]\n\nOne of the miracles of Apollonius consisted in raising the dead. A\nyoung woman of beautiful person was laid out upon a bier, and was in\nthe act of being conveyed to the tomb. She was followed by a multitude\nof friends, weeping and lamenting, and among others by a young man,\nto whom she had been on the point to be married. Apollonius met the\nprocession, and commanded those who bore it, to set down the bier. He\nexhorted the proposed bridegroom to dry up his tears. He enquired the\nname of the deceased, and, saluting her accordingly, took hold of her\nhand, and murmured over her certain mystical words. At this act the\nmaiden raised herself on her seat, and presently returned home, whole\nand sound, to the house of her father. [133]\n\nTowards the end of his life Apollonius was accused before Domitian of\nhaving conspired with Nerva to put an end to the reign of the tyrant.\nHe appears to have proved that he was at another place, and therefore\ncould not have engaged in the conspiracy that was charged upon him.\nDomitian publicly cleared him from the accusation, but at the same\ntime required him not to withdraw from Rome, till the emperor had\nfirst had a private conference with him. To this requisition Apollonius\nreplied in the most spirited terms. \"I thank your majesty,\" said he,\n\"for the justice you have rendered me. But I cannot submit to what you\nrequire. How can I be secure from the false accusations of the\nunprincipled informers who infest your court? It is by their means\nthat whole towns of your empire are unpeopled, that provinces are\ninvolved in mourning and tears, your armies are in mutiny, your senate\nfull of suspicion and alarms, and the islands are crowded with exiles.\nIt is not for myself that I speak, my soul is invulnerable to your\nenmity; and it is not given to you by the Gods to become master of my\nbody.\" And, having thus given utterance to the virtuous anguish of his\nspirit, he suddenly became invisible in the midst of a full assembly,\nand was immediately after seen at Puteoli in the neighbourhood of\nMount Vesuvius. [134]\n\nDomitian pursued the prophet no further; and he passed shortly after\nto Greece, to Ionia, and finally to Ephesus. He every where delivered\nlectures as he went, and was attended with crowds of the most\ndistinguished auditors, and with the utmost popularity. At length at\nEphesus, when he was in the midst of an eloquent harangue, he suddenly\nbecame silent. He seemed as if he saw a spectacle which engrossed all\nhis attention. His countenance expressed fervour and the most\ndetermined purpose. He exclaimed, \"Strike the tyrant; strike him!\" and\nimmediately after, raising himself, and addressing the assembly, he\nsaid, \"Domitian is no more; the world is delivered of its bitterest\noppressor.\"--The next post brought the news that the emperor was\nkilled at Rome, exactly on the day and at the hour when Apollonius had\nthus made known the event at Ephesus. [135]\n\nNerva succeeded Domitian, between whom and Apollonius there subsisted\nthe sincerest friendship. The prophet however did not long survive\nthis event. He was already nearly one hundred years old. But what is\nmost extraordinary, no one could tell precisely when or where he died.\nNo tomb bore the record of his memory; and his biographer inclines to\nthe opinion that he was taken up into heaven. [136]\n\nDivine honours were paid to this philosopher, both during his life,\nand after his death. The inhabitants of Tyana built a temple to him,\nand his image was to be found in many other temples. [137] The emperor\nAdrian collected his letters, and treated them as an invaluable relic.\nAlexander Severus placed his statue in his oratory, together with\nthose of Jesus Christ, Abraham and Orpheus, to whom he was accustomed\ndaily to perform the ceremonies of religion. [138] Vopiscus, in his\nLife of Aurelian, [139] relates that this emperor had determined to\nrase the city of Tyana, but that Apollonius, whom he knew from his\nstatues, appeared to him, and said, \"Aurelian, if you would conquer,\ndo not think of the destruction of my citizens: Aurelian, if you would\nreign, abstain from the blood of the innocent: Aurelian, if you would\nconquer, distinguish yourself by acts of clemency.\" It was at the\ndesire of Julia, the mother of Severus, that Philostratus composed the\nlife of Apollonius, to which he is now principally indebted for his\nfame. [140]\n\nThe publicity of Apollonius and his miracles has become considerably\ngreater, from the circumstance of the early enemies of the Christian\nreligion having instituted a comparison between the miracles of Christ\nand of this celebrated philosopher, for the obvious purpose of\nundermining one of the most considerable evidences of the truth of\ndivine revelation. It was probably with an indirect view of this sort\nthat Philostratus was incited by the empress Julia to compose his life\nof this philosopher; and Hierocles, a writer of the time of Dioclesian,\nappears to have penned an express treatise in the way of a parallel\nbetween the two, attempting to shew a decisive superiority in the\nmiracles of Apollonius.\n\n\nAPULEIUS.\n\nApuleius of Madaura in Africa, who lived in the time of the Antonines,\nappears to have been more remarkable as an author, than for any thing\nthat occurs in the history of his life. St. Augustine and Lactantius\nhowever have coupled him with Apollonius of Tyana, as one of those who\nfor their pretended miracles were brought into competition with the\nauthor of the Christian religion. But this seems to have arisen from\ntheir misapprehension respecting his principal work, the Golden Ass,\nwhich is a romance detailing certain wonderful transformations, and\nwhich they appear to have thought was intended as an actual history of\nthe life of the author.\n\nThe work however deserves to be cited in this place, as giving a\ncurious representation of the ideas which were then prevalent on the\nsubjects of magic and witchcraft. The author in the course of his\nnarrative says: \"When the day began to dawn, I chanced to awake, and\nbecame desirous to know and see some marvellous and strange things,\nremembering that I was now in the midst of Thessaly, where, by the\ncommon report of the world, sorceries and enchantments are most\nfrequent. I viewed the situation of the place in which I was; nor was\nthere any thing I saw, that I believed to be the same thing which it\nappeared. Insomuch that the very stones in the street I thought were\nmen bewitched and turned into that figure, and the birds I heard\nchirping, the trees without the walls, and the running waters, were\nchanged from human creatures into the appearances they wore. I\npersuaded myself that the statues and buildings could move, that the\noxen and other brute beasts could speak and tell strange tidings, and\nthat I should see and hear oracles from heaven, conveyed on the beams\nof the sun.\"\n\n\nALEXANDER THE PAPHLAGONIAN.\n\nAt the same time with Apuleius lived Alexander the Paphlagonian, of\nwhom so extraordinary an account is transmitted to us by Lucian. He\nwas the native of an obscure town, called Abonotica, but was endowed\nwith all that ingenuity and cunning which enables men most effectually\nto impose upon their fellow-creatures. He was tall of stature, of an\nimpressive aspect, a fair complexion, eyes that sparkled with an\nawe-commanding fire as if informed by some divinity, and a voice to\nthe last degree powerful and melodious. To these he added the graces\nof carriage and attire. Being born to none of the goods of fortune, he\nconsidered with himself how to turn these advantages to the greatest\naccount; and the plan he fixed upon was that of instituting an oracle\nentirely under his own direction. He began at Chalcedon on the\nThracian Bosphorus; but, continuing but a short time there, he used it\nprincipally as an opportunity for publishing that Aesculapius, with\nApollo, his father, would in no long time fix his residence at\nAbonotica. This rumour reached the fellow-citizens of the prophet, who\nimmediately began to lay the foundations of a temple for the reception\nof the God. In due time Alexander made his appearance; and he so well\nmanaged his scheme, that, by means of spies and emissaries whom he\nscattered in all directions, he not only collected applications to his\nprophetic skill from the different towns of Ionia, Cilicia and Galatia,\nbut presently extended his fame to Italy and Rome. For twenty years\nscarcely any oracle of the known world could vie with that of\nAbonotica; and the emperor Aurelius himself is said to have relied for\nthe success of a military expedition upon the predictions of Alexander\nthe Paphlagonian.\n\nLucian gives, or pretends to give, an account of the manner in which\nAlexander gained so extraordinary a success. He says, that this young\nman in his preliminary travels, coming to Pella in Macedon, found that\nthe environs of this city were distinguished from perhaps all other\nparts of the world, by a breed of serpents of extraordinary size and\nbeauty. Our author adds that these serpents were so tame, that they\ninhabited the houses of the province, and slept in bed with the\nchildren. If you trod upon them, they did not turn again, or shew\ntokens of anger, and they sucked the breasts of the women to whom it\nmight be of service to draw off their milk. Lucian says, it was\nprobably one of these serpents, that was found in the bed of Olympias,\nand gave occasion to the tale that Alexander the Great was begotten by\nJupiter under the form of a serpent. The prophet bought the largest\nand finest serpent he could find, and conveyed it secretly with him\ninto Asia. When he came to Abonotica, he found the temple that was\nbuilt surrounded with a moat; and he took an opportunity privately of\nsinking a goose-egg, which he had first emptied of its contents,\ninserting instead a young serpent just hatched, and closing it again\nwith great care. He then told his fellow-citizens that the God was\narrived, and hastening to the moat, scooped up the egg in an egg-cup\nin presence of the whole assembly. He next broke the shell, and shewed\nthe young serpent that twisted about his fingers in presence of the\nadmiring multitude. After this he suffered several days to elapse, and\nthen, collecting crowds from every part of Paphlagonia, he exhibited\nhimself, as he had previously announced he should do, with the fine\nserpent he had brought from Macedon twisted in coils about the\nprophet's neck, and its head hid under his arm-pit, while a head\nartfully formed with linen, and bearing some resemblance to a human\nface, protruded itself, and passed for the head of the reptile. The\nspectators were beyond measure astonished to see a little embryo\nserpent, grown in a few days to so magnificent a size, and exhibiting\nthe features of a human countenance.\n\nHaving thus far succeeded, Alexander did not stop here. He contrived\na pipe which passed seemingly into the mouth of the animal, while the\nother end terminated in an adjoining room, where a man was placed\nunseen, and delivered the replies which appeared to come from the\nmouth of the serpent. This immediate communication with the God was\nreserved for a few favoured suitors, who bought at a high price the\nenvied distinction.\n\nThe method with ordinary enquirers was for them to communicate their\nrequests in writing, which they were enjoined to roll up and carefully\nseal; and these scrolls were returned to them in a few days, with the\nseals apparently unbroken, but with an answer written within,\nstrikingly appropriate to the demand that was preferred.--It is further\nto be observed, that the mouth of the serpent was occasionally opened\nby means of a horsehair skilfully adjusted for the purpose, at the\nsame time that by similar means the animal darted out its biforked\ntongue to the terror of the amazed bystanders.\n\n\n\n\nREVOLUTION PRODUCED IN THE HISTORY OF NECROMANCY AND WITCHCRAFT UPON\nTHE ESTABLISHMENT OF CHRISTIANITY.\n\n\nIt is necessary here to take notice of the great revolution that took\nplace under Constantine, nearly three hundred years after the death of\nChrist, when Christianity became the established religion of the Roman\nempire. This was a period which produced a new era in the history of\nnecromancy and witchcraft. Under the reign of polytheism, devotion was\nwholly unrestrained in every direction it might chance to assume. Gods\nknown and unknown, the spirits of departed heroes, the Gods of heaven\nand hell, abstractions of virtue or vice, might unblamed be made the\nobjects of religious worship. Witchcraft therefore, and the invocation\nof the spirits of the dead, might be practised with toleration; or at\nall events were not regarded otherwise than as venial deviations from\nthe religion of the state.\n\nIt is true, there must always have been a horror of secret arts,\nespecially of such as were of a maleficent nature. At all times men\ndreaded the mysterious power of spells and incantations, of potent\nherbs and nameless rites, which were able to control the eternal order\nof the planets, and the voluntary operations of mind, which could\nextinguish or recal life, inflame the passions of the soul, blast the\nworks of creation, and extort from invisible beings and the dead the\nsecrets of futurity. But under the creed of the unity of the divine\nnature the case was exceedingly different. Idolatry, and the worship\nof other Gods than one, were held to be crimes worthy of the utmost\nabhorrence and the severest punishment. There was no medium between\nthe worship of heaven and hell. All adoration was to be directed to\nGod the Creator through the mediation of his only begotten Son; or, if\nprayers were addressed to inferior beings, and the glorified spirits\nof his saints, at least they terminated in the Most High, were a\ndeprecation of his wrath, a soliciting his favour, and a homage to his\nomnipotence. On the other hand sorcery and witchcraft were sins of the\nblackest dye. In opposition to the one only God, the creator of heaven\nand earth, was the \"prince of darkness,\" the \"prince of the power of\nthe air,\" who contended perpetually against the Almighty, and sought\nto seduce his creatures and his subjects from their due allegiance.\nSorcerers and witches were supposed to do homage and sell themselves\nto the devil, than which it was not in the mind of man to conceive a\ngreater enormity, or a crime more worthy to cause its perpetrators to\nbe exterminated from the face of the earth. The thought of it was of\npower to cause the flesh of man to creep and tingle with horror: and\nsuch as were prone to indulge their imaginations to the utmost extent\nof the terrible, found a perverse delight in conceiving this\ndepravity, and were but too much disposed to fasten it upon their\nfellow-creatures.\n\n\nMAGICAL CONSULTATIONS RESPECTING THE LIFE OF THE EMPEROR.\n\nIt was not within the range of possibility, that such a change should\ntake place in the established religion of the empire as that from\nPaganism to Christianity, without convulsions and vehement struggle.\nThe prejudices of mankind on a subject so nearly concerned with their\ndearest interests and affections must inevitably be powerful and\nobstinate; and the lucre of the priesthood, together with the strong\nhold they must necessarily have had on the weakness and superstition\nof their flocks, would tend to give force and perpetuity to the\ncontention. Julian, a man of great ability and unquestionable\npatriotism, succeeded to the empire only twenty-four years after the\ndeath of Constantine; and he employed the most vigorous measures for\nthe restoration of the ancient religion. But the reign of Julian was\nscarcely more than eighteen months in duration: and that of Jovian,\nhis successor, who again unfurled the standard of Christianity, lasted\nhardly more than half a year. The state of things bore a striking\nsimilarity to that of England at the time of the Protestant\nReformation, where the opposite faiths of Edward the Sixth and his\nsister Mary, and the shortness of their reigns, gave preternatural\nkeenness to the feelings of the parties, and instigated them to hang\nwith the most restless anticipation upon the chances of the demise of\nthe sovereign, and the consequences, favourable or unfavourable, that\nmight arise from a new accession.\n\nThe joint reign of Valentinian and Valens, Christian emperors, had now\nlasted several years, when information was conveyed to these princes,\nand particularly to the latter, who had the rule of Asia, that\nnumerous private consultations were held, as to the duration of their\nauthority, and the person of the individual who should come after them.\nThe succession of the Roman empire was elective; and consequently\nthere was almost an unlimited scope for conjecture in this question.\nAmong the various modes of enquiry that were employed we are told,\nthat the twenty-four letters of the alphabet were artificially\ndisposed in a circle, and that a magic ring, being suspended over the\ncentre, was conceived to point to the initial letters of the name of\nhim who should be the future emperor. Theodorus, a man of most eminent\nqualifications, and high popularity, was put to death by the jealousy\nof Valens, on the vague evidence that this kind of trial had indicated\nthe early letters of his name. [141] It may easily be imagined, that,\nwhere so restless and secret an investigation was employed as to the\nsuccessor that fate might provide, conspiracy would not always be\nabsent. Charges of this sort were perpetually multiplied; informers\nwere eager to obtain favour or rewards by the disclosures they\npretended to communicate; and the Christians, who swayed the sceptre\nof the state, did not fail to aggravate the guilt of those who had\nrecourse to these means for satisfying their curiosity, by alleging\nthat demons were called up from hell to aid in the magic solution. The\nhistorians of these times no doubt greatly exaggerate the terror and\nthe danger, when they say, that the persons apprehended on such\ncharges in the great cities outnumbered the peaceable citizens who\nwere left unsuspected, and that the military who had charge of the\nprisoners, complained that they were wholly without the power to\nrestrain the flight of the captives, or to control the multitude of\npartisans who insisted on their immediate release. [142] The\npunishments were barbarous and indiscriminate; to be accused was\nalmost the same thing as to be convicted; and those were obliged to\nhold themselves fortunate, who escaped with a fine that in a manner\nswallowed up their estates.\n\n\n\n\nHISTORY OF NECROMANCY IN THE EAST.\n\n\nFrom the countries best known in what is usually styled ancient\nhistory, in other words from Greece and Rome, and the regions into\nwhich the spirit of conquest led the people of Rome and Greece, it is\ntime we should turn to the East, and those remoter divisions of the\nworld, which to them were comparatively unknown.\n\nWith what has been called the religion of the Magi, of Egypt, Persia\nand Chaldea, they were indeed superficially acquainted; but for a more\nfamiliar and accurate knowledge of the East we are chiefly indebted to\ncertain events of modern history; to the conquests of the Saracens,\nwhen they possessed themselves of the North of Africa, made themselves\nmasters of Spain, and threatened in their victorious career to subject\nFrance to their standard; to the crusades; to the spirit of nautical\ndiscovery which broke out in the close of the fifteenth century; and\nmore recently to the extensive conquests and mighty augmentation of\nterritory which have been realised by the English East India Company.\n\nThe religion of Persia was that of Zoroaster and the Magi. When\nArdshir, or Artaxerxes, the founder of the race of the Sassanides,\nrestored the throne of Persia in the year of Christ 226, he called\ntogether an assembly of the Magi from all parts of his dominions, and\nthey are said to have met to the number of eighty thousand. [143]\nThese priests, from a remote antiquity, had to a great degree\npreserved their popularity, and had remarkably adhered to their\nancient institutions.\n\nThey seem at all times to have laid claim to the power of suspending\nthe course of nature, and producing miraculous phenomena. But in so\nnumerous a body there must have been some whose pretensions were of a\nmore moderate nature, and others who displayed a loftier aspiration.\nThe more ambitious we find designated in their native language by the\nname of _Jogees_, [144] of the same signification as the Latin\n_juncti_.\n\nTheir notions of the Supreme Being are said to have been of the\nhighest and abstrusest character, as comprehending every possible\nperfection of power, wisdom and goodness, as purely spiritual in his\nessence, and incapable of the smallest variation and change, the same\nyesterday, to-day, and for ever. Such as they apprehended him to be,\nsuch the most perfect of their priests aspired to make themselves.\nThey were to put off all human weakness and frailty; and, in\nproportion as they _assimilated_, or rather _became one_\nwith the Deity, they supposed themselves to partake of his attributes,\nto become infinitely wise and powerful and good. Hence their claim to\nsuspend the course of nature, and to produce miraculous phenomena. For\nthis purpose it was necessary that they should abstract themselves\nfrom every thing mortal, have no human passions or partialities, and\ndivest themselves as much as possible of all the wants and demands of\nour material frame. Zoroaster appears indeed to have preferred\nmorality to devotion, to have condemned celibacy and fasting, and to\nhave pronounced, that \"he who sows the ground with diligence and care,\nacquires a greater stock of religious merit than he who should repeat\nten thousand prayers.\" But his followers at least did not abide by\nthis decision. They found it more practicable to secure to themselves\nan elevated reputation by severe observances, rigid self-denial, and\nthe practice of the most inconceivable mortifications. This excited\nwonder and reverence and a sort of worship from the bystander, which\nindustry and benevolence do not so assuredly secure. They therefore in\nfrequent instances lacerated their flesh, and submitted to incredible\nhardships. They scourged themselves without mercy, wounded their\nbodies with lancets and nails, [145] and condemned themselves to\nremain for days and years unmoved in the most painful attitudes. It\nwas no unprecedented thing for them to take their station upon the top\nof a high pillar; and some are said to have continued in this position,\nwithout ever coming down from it, for thirty years. The more they\ntrampled under foot the universal instincts of our nature, and shewed\nthemselves superior to its infirmities, the nearer they approached to\nthe divine essence, and to the becoming one with the Omnipresent. They\nwere of consequence the more sinless and perfect; their will became\nthe will of the Deity, and they were in a sense invested with, and\nbecame the mediums of the acts of, his power. The result of all this\nis, that they who exercised the art of magic in its genuine and\nunadulterated form, at all times applied it to purposes of goodness\nand benevolence, and that their interference was uniformly the signal\nof some unequivocal benefit, either to mankind in general, or to those\nindividuals of mankind who were best entitled to their aid. It was\ntheirs to succour virtue in distress, and to interpose the divine\nassistance in cases that most loudly and unquestionably called for it.\n\nSuch, we are told, was the character of the pure and primitive magic,\nas it was handed down from the founder of their religion. It was\ncalled into action by the Jogees, men who, by an extraordinary merit\nof whatever sort, had in a certain sense rendered themselves one with\nthe Deity. But the exercise of magical power was too tempting an\nendowment, not in some cases to be liable to abuse. Even as we read of\nthe angels in heaven, that not all of them stood, and persevered in\ntheir original sinlessness and integrity, so of the Jogees some,\npartaking of the divine power, were also under the direction of a will\ncelestial and divine, while others, having derived, we must suppose, a\nmighty and miraculous power from the gift of God, afterwards abused it\nby applying it to capricious, or, as it should seem, to malignant\npurposes. This appears to have been every where essential to the\nhistory of magic. If those who were supposed to possess it in its\nwidest extent and most astonishing degree, had uniformly employed it\nonly in behalf of justice and virtue, they would indeed have been\nregarded as benefactors, and been entitled to the reverence and love\nof mankind. But the human mind is always prone to delight in the\nterrible. No sooner did men entertain the idea of what was supernatural\nand uncontrolable, than they began to fear it and to deprecate its\nhostility. They apprehended they knew not what, of the dead returning\nto life, of invisible beings armed with the power and intention of\nexecuting mischief, and of human creatures endowed with the prerogative\nof bringing down pestilence and slaughter, of dispensing wealth and\npoverty, prosperity and calamity at their pleasure, of causing health\nand life to waste away by insensible, but sure degrees, of producing\nlingering torments, and death in its most fearful form. Accordingly it\nappears that, as there were certain magicians who were as Gods\ndispensing benefits to those who best deserved it, so there were\nothers, whose only principle of action was caprice, and against whose\nmalice no innocence and no degree of virtue would prove a defence. As\nthe former sort of magicians were styled _Jogees_, and were held\nto be the deputies and instruments of infinite goodness, so the other\nsort were named _Ku-Jogees_, that is, persons who possessing the\nsame species of ascendancy over the powers of nature, employed it only\nin deeds of malice and wickedness.\n\nIn the mean time these magicians appear to have produced the wonderful\neffects which drew to them the reverence of the vulgar, very frequently\nby the intervention of certain beings of a nature superior to the\nhuman, who should seem, though ordinarily invisible, to have had the\nfaculty of rendering themselves visible when they thought proper, and\nassuming what shape they pleased. These are principally known by the\nnames of Peris, Dives, [146] and Gins, or Genii. Richardson, in the\npreface to his Persian Dictionary, from which our account will\nprincipally be taken, refers us to what he calls a romance, but from\nwhich he, appears to derive the outline of his Persian mythology. In\nthis romance Kahraman, a mortal, is introduced in conversation with\nSimurgh, a creature partaking of the nature of a bird and a griffon,\nwho reveals to him the secrets of the past history of the earth. She\ntells him that she has lived to see the world seven times peopled with\ninhabitants of so many different natures, and seven times depopulated,\nthe former inhabitants having been so often removed, and giving place\nto their successors. The beings who occupied the earth previously to\nman, were distinguished into the Peris and the Dives; and, when they\nno longer possessed the earth in chief, they were, as it should seem,\nstill permitted, in an airy and unsubstantial form, and for the most\npart invisibly, to interfere in the affairs of the human race. These\nbeings ruled the earth during seventy-two generations. The last\nmonarch, named Jan bin Jan, conducted himself so ill, that God sent\nthe angel Haris to chastise him. Haris however became intoxicated with\npower, and employed his prerogative in the most reprehensible manner.\nGod therefore at length created Adam, the first of men, crowning him\nwith glory and honour, and giving him dominion over all other earthly\nbeings. He commanded the angels to obey him; but Haris refused, and\nthe Dives followed his example. The rebels were for the most part sent\nto hell for their contumacy; but a part of the Dives, whose\ndisobedience had been less flagrant, were reserved, and allowed for a\ncertain term to walk the earth, and by their temptations to put the\nvirtue and constancy of man to trial. Henceforth the human race was\nsecretly surrounded by invisible beings of two species, the Peris, who\nwere friendly to man, and the Dives, who exercised their ingenuity in\ninvolving them in error and guilt. The Peris were beautiful and\nbenevolent, but imperfect and offending beings; they are supposed to\nhave borne a considerable resemblance to the Fairies of the western\nworld. The Dives were hideous in form, and of a malignant disposition.\nThe Peris subsist wholly on perfumes, which the Dives, being of a\ngrosser nature, hold in abhorrence. This mythology is said to have\nbeen unknown in Arabia till long after Mahomet: the only invisible\nbeings we read of in their early traditions are the Gins, which term,\nthough now used for the most part as synonimous with Dives, originally\nsignified nothing more than certain infernal fiends of stupendous\npower, whose agency was hostile to man.\n\nThere was perpetual war between the Peris and the Dives, whose proper\nhabitation was Kaf, or Caucasus, a line of mountains which was\nsupposed to reach round the globe. In these wars the Peris generally\ncame off with the worst; and in that case they are represented in the\ntraditional tales of the East, as applying to some gallant and heroic\nmortal to reinforce their exertions. The warriors who figure in these\nnarratives appear all to have been ancient Persian kings. Tahmuras,\none of the most celebrated of them, is spoken of as mounting upon\nSimurgh, surrounded with talismans and enchanted armour, and furnished\nwith a sword the dint of which nothing could resist. He proceeds to\nKaf, or Ginnistan, and defeats Arzshank, the chief of the Dives, but\nis defeated in turn by a more formidable competitor. The war appears\nto be carried on for successive ages with alternate advantage and\ndisadvantage, till after the lapse of centuries Rustan kills Arzshank,\nand finally reduces the Dives to a subject and tributary condition.\nIn all this there is a great resemblance to the fables of Scandinavia;\nand the Northern and the Eastern world seem emulously to have\ncontributed their quota of chivalry and romance, of heroic achievements\nand miraculous events, of monsters and dragons, of amulets and\nenchantment, and all those incidents which most rouse the imagination,\nand are calculated to instil into generous and enterprising youth a\ncourage the most undaunted and invincible.\n\n\nGENERAL SILENCE OF THE EAST RESPECTING INDIVIDUAL NECROMANCERS.\n\nAsia has been more notorious than perhaps any other division of the\nglobe for the vast multiplicity and variety of its narratives of\nsorcery and magic. I have however been much disappointed in the thing\nI looked for in the first place, and that is, in the individual\nadventures of such persons as might be supposed to have gained a high\ndegree of credit and reputation for their skill in exploits of magic.\nWhere the professors are many (and they have been perhaps no where so\nnumerous as those of magic in the East), it is unavoidable but that\nsome should have been more dextrous than others, more eminently gifted\nby nature, more enthusiastic and persevering in the prosecution of\ntheir purpose, and more fortunate in awakening popularity and\nadmiration among their contemporaries. In the instances of Apollonius\nTyanaeus and others among the ancients, and of Cornelius Agrippa, Roger\nBacon and Faust among the moderns, we are acquainted with many\nbiographical particulars of their lives, and can trace with some\ndegree of accuracy, their peculiarities of disposition, and observe\nhow they were led gradually from one study and one mode of action to\nanother. But the magicians of the East, so to speak, are mere\nabstractions, not characterised by any of those habits which\ndistinguish one individual of the human race from another, and having\nthose marking traits and petty lineaments which make the person, as it\nwere, start up into life while he passes before our eyes. They are\nmerely reported to us as men prone to the producing great signs and\nwonders, and nothing more.\n\nTwo of the most remarkable exceptions that I have found to this rule,\noccur in the examples of Rocail, and of Hakem, otherwise called\nMocanna.\n\n\nROCAIL.\n\nThe first of these however is scarcely to be called an exception, as\nlying beyond the limits of all credible history, Rocail is said to\nhave been the younger brother of Seth, the son of Adam. A Dive, or\ngiant of mount Caucasus, being hard pressed by his enemies, sought as\nusual among the sons of men for aid that might extricate him out of\nhis difficulties. He at length made an alliance with Rocail, by whose\nassistance he arrived at the tranquillity he desired, and who in\nconsequence became his grand vizier, or prime minister. He governed\nthe dominions of his principal for many years with great honour and\nsuccess; but, ultimately perceiving the approaches of old age and\ndeath, he conceived a desire to leave behind him a monument worthy of\nhis achievements in policy and war. He according erected, we are not\ntold by what means, a magnificent palace, and a sepulchre equally\nworthy of admiration. But what was most entitled to notice, he peopled\nthis palace with statues of so extraordinary a quality, that they\nmoved and performed all the functions and offices of living men, so\nthat every one who beheld them would have believed that they were\nactually informed with souls, whereas in reality all they did was by\nthe power of magic, in consequence of which, though they were in fact\nno more than inanimate matter, they were enabled to obey the behests,\nand perform the will, of the persons by whom they were visited. [147]\n\n\nHAKEM, OTHERWISE MOCANNA.\n\nHakem was a leader in one of the different divisions of the followers\nof Mahomet. To inspire the greater awe into the minds of his\nsupporters, he pretended that he was the Most High God, the creator of\nheaven and earth, under one of the different forms by which he has in\nsuccessive ages become incarnate, and made himself manifest to his\ncreatures. He distinguished himself by the peculiarity of always\nwearing a thick and impervious veil, by which, according to his\nfollowers, he covered the dazzling splendour of his countenance, which\nwas so great that no mortal could behold it and live, but that,\naccording to his enemies, only served to conceal the hideousness of\nhis features, too monstrously deformed to be contemplated without\nhorror. One of his miracles, which seems the most to have been\ninsisted on, was that he nightly, for a considerable space of time,\ncaused an orb, something like the moon, to rise from a sacred well,\nwhich gave a light scarcely less splendid than the day, that diffused\nits beams for many miles around. His followers were enthusiastically\ndevoted to his service, and he supported his authority unquestioned\nfor a number of years. At length a more formidable opponent appeared,\nand after several battles he became obliged to shut himself up in a\nstrong fortress. Here however he was so straitly besieged as to be\ndriven to the last despair, and, having administered poison to his\nwhole garrison, he prepared a bath of the most powerful ingredients,\nwhich, when he threw himself into it, dissolved his frame, even to the\nvery bones, so that nothing remained of him but a lock of his hair. He\nacted thus, with the hope that it would be believed that he was\nmiraculously taken up into heaven; nor did this fail to be the effect\non the great body of his adherents. [148]\n\n\nARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS.\n\nThe most copious record of stories of Asiatic enchantment that we\npossess, is contained in the Arabian Nights' Entertainments; to which\nwe may add the Persian Tales, and a few other repositories of Oriental\nadventures. It is true that these are delivered to us in a garb of\nfiction; but they are known to present so exact a picture of Eastern\nmanners and customs, and so just a delineation of the follies, the\nweaknesses and credulity of the races of men that figure in them, that,\nin the absence of materials of a strictly historical sort of which we\nhave to complain, they may not inadequately supply the place, and may\nfurnish us with a pretty full representation of the ideas of sorcery\nand magic which for centuries were entertained in this part of the\nworld. They have indeed one obvious defect, which it is proper the\nreader should keep constantly in mind. The mythology and groundwork of\nthe whole is Persian: but the narrator is for the most part a\nMahometan. Of consequence the ancient Fire-worshippers, though they\ncontribute the entire materials, and are therefore solely entitled to\nour gratitude and deference for the abundant supply they have furnished\nto our curiosity, are uniformly treated in these books with disdain\nand contumely as unworthy of toleration, while the comparative upstart\nrace of the believers in the Koran are held out to us as the only\nenlightened and upright among the sons of men.\n\nMany of the matters most currently related among these supernatural\nphenomena, are tales of transformation. A lady has two sisters of the\nmost profligate and unprincipled character. They have originally the\nsame share of the paternal inheritance as herself. But they waste it\nin profusion and folly, while she improves her portion by good\njudgment and frugality. Driven to the extremity of distress, they\nhumble themselves, and apply to her for assistance. She generously\nimparts to them the same amount of wealth that they originally\npossessed, and they are once more reduced to poverty. This happens\nagain and again. At length, finding them incapable of discretion, she\nprevails on them to come and live with her. By wearisome and ceaseless\nimportunity they induce her to embark in a mercantile enterprise. Here\nshe meets with a prince, who had the misfortune to be born in a region\nof fire-worshippers, but was providentially educated by a Mahometan\nnurse. Hence, when his countrymen were by divine vengeance all turned\ninto stones, he alone was saved alive. The lady finds him in this\nsituation, endowed with sense and motion amidst a petrified city, and\nthey immediately fall in love with each other. She brings him away\nfrom this melancholy scene, and together they go on board the vessel\nwhich had been freighted by herself and her sisters. But the sisters\nbecome envious of her good fortune, and conspire, while she and the\nprince are asleep, to throw them overboard. The prince is drowned; but\nthe lady with great difficulty escapes. She finds herself in a desert\nisland, not far from the place where she had originally embarked on\nher adventure; and, having slept off the fatigues she had encountered,\nbeholds on her awaking a black woman with an agreeable countenance, a\nfairy, who leads in her hand two black bitches coupled together with a\ncord. These black bitches are the lady's sisters, thus metamorphosed,\nas a punishment for their ingratitude and cruelty. The fairy conveys\nher through the air to her own house in Bagdad, which she finds well\nstored with all sorts of commodities, and delivers to her the two\nanimals, with an injunction that she is to whip them every day at a\ncertain hour as a further retribution for their crimes. This was\naccordingly punctually performed; and, at the end of each day's\npenance, the lady, having before paid no regard to the animals'\ngestures and pitiable cries, wept over them, took them in her arms,\nkissed them, and carefully wiped the moisture from their eyes. Having\npersevered for a length of time in this discipline, the offenders are\nfinally, by a counter-incantation, restored to their original forms,\nbeing by the severities they had suffered entirely cured of the vices\nwhich had occasioned their calamitous condition.\n\nAnother story is of a calender, a sort of Mahometan monk, with one eye,\nwho had originally been a prince. He had contracted a taste for\nnavigation and naval discoveries; and, in one of his voyages, having\nbeen driven by stress of weather into unknown seas, he suddenly finds\nhimself attracted towards a vast mountain of loadstone, which first,\nby virtue of the iron and nails in the ship, draws the vessel towards\nitself, and then, by its own intrinsic force, extracts the nails, so\nthat the ship tumbles to pieces, and every one on board is drowned.\nThe mountain, on the side towards the sea, is all covered with nails,\nwhich had been drawn from vessels that previously suffered the same\ncalamity; and these nails at once preserve and augment the fatal power\nof the mountain. The prince only escapes; and he finds himself in a\ndesolate island, with a dome of brass, supported by brazen pillars,\nand on the top of it a horse of brass, and a rider of the same metal.\nThis rider the prince is fated to throw down, by means of an enchanted\narrow, and thus to dissolve the charm which had been fatal to\nthousands. From the desolate island he embarked on board a boat, with\na single rower, a man of metal, and would have been safely conveyed to\nhis native country, had he not inadvertently pronounced the name of\nGod, that he had been warned not to do, and which injunction he had\nobserved many days. On this the boat immediately sunk; but the prince\nwas preserved, who comes into a desolate island, where he finds but\none inhabitant, a youth of fifteen. This youth is hid in a cavern, it\nhaving been predicted of him that he should be killed after fifty days,\nby the man that threw down the horse of brass and his rider. A great\nfriendship is struck up between the unsuspecting youth and the prince,\nwho nevertheless fulfils the prediction, having by a pure accident\nkilled the youth on the fiftieth day. He next arrives at a province of\nthe main land, where he visits a castle, inhabited by ten very\nagreeable young men, each blind of the right eye. He dwells with them\nfor a month, and finds, after a day of pleasant entertainment, that\neach evening they do penance in squalidness and ashes. His curiosity\nis greatly excited to obtain an explanation of what he saw, but this\nthey refuse, telling him at the same time, that he may, if he pleases,\npass through the same adventure as they have done, and, if he does,\nwishing it may be attended with a more favourable issue. He determines\nto make the experiment; and by their direction, after certain\npreparations, is flown away with through the air by a roc, a stupendous\nbird, that is capable in the same manner of carrying off an elephant.\nBy this means he is brought to a castle of the most extraordinary\nmagnificence, inhabited by forty ladies of exquisite beauty. With\nthese ladies he lives for eleven months in a perpetual succession of\ndelights. But in the twelfth month they tell him, that they are\nobliged to leave him till the commencement of the new year. In the\nmean time they give him for his amusement the keys of one hundred\napartments, all but one of which he is permitted to open. He is\ndelighted with the wonders of these apartments till the last day. On\nthat day he opens the forbidden room, where the rarity that most\nstrikes him is a black horse of admirable shape and appearance, with\na saddle and bridle of gold. He leads this horse into the open air,\nand is tempted to mount him. The horse first stands still; but at\nlength, being touched with a switch, spreads a pair of wings which the\nprince had not before perceived, and mounts to an amazing height in\nthe air. The horse finally descends on the terrace of a castle, where\nhe throws his rider, and leaves him, having first dashed out his right\neye with a sudden swing of his tail. The prince goes down into the\ncastle, and to his surprise finds himself in company with the ten\nyoung men, blind of one eye, who had passed through the same adventure\nas he had done, and all been betrayed by means of the same infirmity.\n\n\nPERSIAN TALES.\n\nThese two stories are from the Arabian Nights: the two following are\nfrom the Persian Tales.--Fadlallah, king of Mousel, contracted an\nintimacy with a young dervise, a species of Turkish friar, who makes a\nvow of perpetual poverty. The dervise, to ingratiate himself the more\nwith the prince, informed him of a secret he possessed, by means of a\ncertain incantation, of projecting his soul into the body of any dead\nanimal he thought proper.\n\nTo convince the king that this power was no empty boast, he offered to\nquit his own body, and animate that of a doe, which Fadlallah had just\nkilled in hunting. He accordingly executed what he proposed, took\npossession of the body of the doe, displayed the most surprising\nagility, approached the king, fawning on him with every expression of\nendearment, and then, after various bounds, deserting the limbs of the\nanimal, and repossessing his own frame, which during the experiment\nhad lain breathless on the ground. Fadlallah became earnest to possess\nthe secret of the dervise; and, after some demurs, it was communicated\nto him. The king took possession of the body of the doe; but his\ntreacherous confident no sooner saw the limbs of Fadlallah stretched\nsenseless on the ground, than he conveyed his own spirit into them,\nand, bending his bow, sought to destroy the life of his defenceless\nvictim. The king by his agility escaped; and the dervise, resorting to\nthe palace, took possession of the throne, and of the bed of the queen,\nZemroude, with whom Fadlallah was desperately enamoured. The first\nprecaution of the usurper was to issue a decree that all the deer\nwithin his dominions should be killed, hoping by this means to destroy\nthe rightful sovereign. But the king, aware of his danger, had deserted\nthe body of the doe, and entered that of a dead nightingale that lay\nin his path. In this disguise he hastened to the palace, and placed\nhimself in a wide-spreading tree, which grew immediately before the\napartment of Zemroude. Here he poured out his complaints and the grief\nthat penetrated his soul in such melodious notes, as did not fail to\nattract the attention of the queen. She sent out her bird-catchers to\nmake captive the little warbler; and Fadlallah, who desired no better,\neasily suffered himself to be made their prisoner. In this new\nposition he demonstrated by every gesture of fondness his partiality\nto the queen; but if any of her women approached him, he pecked at\nthem in anger, and, when the impostor made his appearance, could not\ncontain the vehemence of his rage. It happened one night that the\nqueen's lap-dog died; and the thought struck Fadlallah that he would\nanimate the corpse of this animal. The next morning Zemroude found her\nfavourite bird dead in his cage, and immediately became inconsolable.\nNever, she said, was so amiable a bird; he distinguished her from all\nothers; he seemed even to entertain a passion for her; and she felt as\nif she could not survive his loss. The dervise in vain tried every\nexpedient to console her. At length he said, that, if she pleased, he\nwould cause her nightingale to revive every morning, and entertain her\nwith his tunes as long as she thought proper. The dervise accordingly\nlaid himself on a sopha, and by means of certain cabalistic words,\ntransported his soul into the body of the nightingale, and began to\nsing. Fadlallah watched his time; he lay in a corner of the room\nunobserved; but no sooner had the dervise deserted his body, than the\nking proceeded to take possession of it. The first thing he did was to\nhasten to the cage, to open the door with uncontrolable impatience,\nand, seizing the bird, to twist off its head. Zemroude, amazed, asked\nhim what he meant by so inhuman an action. Fadlallah in reply related\nto her all the circumstances that had befallen him; and the queen\nbecame so struck with agony and remorse that she had suffered her\nperson, however innocently, to be polluted by so vile an impostor,\nthat she could not get over the recollection, but pined away and died\nfrom a sense of the degradation she had endured.\n\nBut a much more perplexing and astounding instance of transformation\noccurs in the history of the Young King of Thibet and the Princess of\nthe Naimans. The sorcerers in this case are represented as, without\nany intermediate circumstance to facilitate their witchcraft, having\nthe ability to assume the form of any one they please, and in\nconsequence to take the shape of one actually present, producing a\nduplication the most confounding that can be imagined.--Mocbel, the\nson of an artificer of Damascus, but whose father had bequeathed him\nconsiderable wealth, contrived to waste his patrimony and his youth\ntogether in profligate living with Dilnouaze, a woman of dissolute\nmanners. Finding themselves at once poor and despised, they had\nrecourse to the sage Bedra, the most accomplished magician of the\ndesert, and found means to obtain her favour. In consequence she\npresented them with two rings, which had the power of enabling them to\nassume the likeness of any man or woman they please. Thus equipped,\nMocbel heard of the death of Mouaffack, prince of the Naimans, who was\nsupposed to have been slain in a battle, and whose body had never been\nfound. The niece of Mouaffack now filled the throne; and under these\ncircumstances Mocbel conceived the design of personating the absent\nMouaffack, exciting a rebellion among his countrymen, and taking\npossession of the throne. In this project he succeeded; and the\nprincess driven into exile, took refuge in the capital of Thibet. Here\nthe king saw her, fell in love with her, and espoused her. Being made\nacquainted with her history, he resolved to re-conquer her dominions,\nand sent a defiance to the usurper. Mocbel, terrified at the thought\nof so formidable an invader, first pretended to die, and then, with\nDilnouaze, who during his brief reign had under the form of a beautiful\nwoman personated his queen, proceeded in his original form to the\ncapital of Thibet. Here his purpose was to interrupt the happiness of\nthose who had disturbed him in his deceitful career. Accordingly one\nnight, when the queen, previously to proceeding to her repose, had\nshut herself up in her closet to read certain passages of the Alcoran,\nDilnouaze, assuming her form with the minutest exactness, hastened to\nplace herself in the royal bed by the side of the king. After a time,\nthe queen shut her book, and went along the gallery to the king's\nbedchamber, Mocbel watched his time, and placed himself, under the\nform of a frightful apparition, directly in the queen's path. She\nstarted at the sight, and uttered a piercing shriek. The king\nrecognised her voice, and hastened to see what had happened to her.\nShe explained; but the king spoke of something much more extraordinary,\nand asked her how it could possibly happen that she should be in the\ngallery, at the same moment that he had left her, undressed and in bed.\nThey proceeded to the chamber to unravel the mystery. Here a contention\noccurred between the real and the seeming queen, each charging the\nother with imposture. The king turned from one to the other, and was\nunable to decide between their pretensions. The courtiers and the\nladies of the bedchamber were called, and all were perplexed with\nuncertainty and doubt. At length they determine in favour of the false\nqueen, It was then proposed that the other should be burned for a\nsorceress. The king however forbade this. He was not yet altogether\ndecided; and could not resolve to consign his true queen, as it might\npossibly be, to a cruel death. He was therefore content to strip her\nof her royal robes, to clothe her in rags, and thrust her ignominiously\nfrom his palace.\n\nTreachery however was not destined to be ultimately triumphant. The\nking one day rode out a hunting; and Mocbel, that he might the better\ndeceive the guards of the palace, seizing the opportunity, assumed his\nfigure, and went to bed to Dilnouaze. The king meanwhile recollected\nsomething of importance, that he had forgotten before he went out to\nhunt, and returning upon his steps, proceeded to the royal chamber.\nHere to his utter confusion he found a man in bed with his queen, and\nthat man to his greater astonishment the exact counterpart of himself.\nFurious at the sight, he immediately drew his scymetar. The man\ncontrived to escape down the backstairs. The woman however remained in\nbed; and, stretching out her hands to intreat for mercy, the king\nstruck off the hand which had the ring on it, and she immediately\nappeared, as she really was, a frightful hag. She begged for life; and,\nthat she might mollify his rage, explained the mystery, told him that\nit was by means of a ring that she effected the delusion, and that by\na similar enchantment her paramour had assumed the likeness of the\nking. The king meanwhile was inexorable, and struck off her head. He\nnext turned in pursuit of the adulterer. Mocbel however had had time\nto mount on horseback. But the king mounted also; and, being the\nbetter horseman, in a short time overtook his foe. The impostor did\nnot dare to cope with him, but asked his life; and the king,\nconsidering him as the least offender of the two, pardoned him upon\ncondition of his surrendering the ring, in consequence of which he\npassed the remainder of his life in poverty and decrepitude.\n\n\nSTORY OF A GOULE.\n\nA story in the Arabian Nights, which merits notice for its singularity,\nand as exhibiting a particular example of the credulity of the people\nof the East, is that of a man who married a sorceress, without being\nin any way conscious of her character in that respect. She was\nsufficiently agreeable in her person, and he found for the most part\nno reason to be dissatisfied with her. But he became uneasy at the\nstrangeness of her behaviour, whenever they sat together at meals. The\nhusband provided a sufficient variety of dishes, and was anxious that\nhis wife should eat and be refreshed. But she took scarcely any\nnourishment. He set before her a plate of rice. From this plate she\ntook somewhat, grain by grain; but she would taste of no other dish.\nThe husband remonstrated with her upon her way of eating, but to no\npurpose; she still went on the same. He knew it was impossible for any\none to subsist upon so little as she ate; and his curiosity was roused.\nOne night, as he lay quietly awake, he perceived his wife rise very\nsoftly, and put on her clothes. He watched, but made as if he saw\nnothing. Presently she opened the door, and went out. He followed her\nunperceived, by moonlight, and tracked her into a place of graves.\nHere to his astonishment he saw her joined by a Goule, a sort of\nwandering demon, which is known to infest ruinous buildings, and from\ntime to time suddenly rushes out, seizes children and other defenceless\npeople, strangles, and devours them. Occasionally, for want of other\nfood, this detested race will resort to churchyards, and, digging up\nthe bodies of the newly-buried, gorge their appetites upon the flesh\nof these. The husband followed his wife and her supernatural companion,\nand watched their proceedings. He saw them digging in a new-made grave.\nThey extracted the body of the deceased; and, the Goule cutting it up\njoint by joint, they feasted voraciously, and, having satisfied their\nappetites, cast the remainder into the grave again, and covered it up\nas before. The husband now withdrew unobserved to his bed, and the\nwife followed presently after. He however conceived a horrible\nloathing of such a wife; and she discovers that he is acquainted with\nher dreadful secret. They can no longer live together; and a\nmetamorphosis followed. She turned him into a dog, which by ill usage\nshe drove from her door; and he, aided by a benevolent sorceress,\nfirst recovers his natural shape, and then, having changed her into a\nmare, by perpetual hard usage and ill treatment vents his detestation\nof the character he had discovered in her.\n\n\nARABIAN NIGHTS.\n\nA compilation of more vigorous imagination and more exhaustless\nvariety than the Arabian Nights, perhaps never existed. Almost every\nthing that can be conceived of marvellous and terrific is there to be\nfound. When we should apprehend the author or authors to have come to\nan end of the rich vein in which they expatiate, still new wonders are\npresented to us in endless succession. Their power of comic exhibition\nis not less extraordinary than their power of surprising and\nterrifying. The splendour of their painting is endless; and the mind\nof the reader is roused and refreshed by shapes and colours for ever\nnew.\n\n\nRESEMBLANCE OF THE TALES OF THE EAST AND OF EUROPE.\n\nIt is characteristic of this work to exhibit a faithful and particular\npicture of Eastern manners, customs, and modes of thinking and acting.\nAnd yet, now and then, it is curious to observe the coincidence of\nOriental imagination with that of antiquity and of the North of Europe,\nso that it is difficult to conceive the one not to be copied from the\nother. Perhaps it was so; and perhaps not. Man is every where man,\npossessed of the same faculties, stimulated by the same passions,\nderiving pain and pleasure from the same sources, with similar hopes\nand fears, aspirations and alarms.\n\nIn the Third Voyage of Sinbad he arrives at an island were he finds\none man, a negro, as tall as a palm-tree, and with a single eye in the\nmiddle of his forehead. He takes up the crew, one by one, and selects\nthe fattest as first to be devoured. This is done a second time. At\nlength nine of the boldest seize on a spit, while he lay on his back\nasleep, and, having heated it red-hot, thrust it into his eye.--This\nis precisely the story of Ulysses and the Cyclops.\n\nThe story of the Little Hunchback, who is choaked with a fish-bone,\nand, after having brought successive individuals into trouble on the\nsuspicion of murdering him, is restored to life again, is nearly the\nbest known of the Arabian Tales. The merry jest of Dan Hew, Monk of\nLeicester, who \"once was hanged, and four times slain,\" bears a very\nstriking resemblance to this. [149]\n\nA similar resemblance is to be found, only changing the sex of the\naggressor, between the well known tale of Patient Grizzel, and that of\nCheheristany in the Persian Tales. This lady was a queen of the Gins,\nwho fell in love with the emperor of China, and agrees to marry him\nupon condition that she shall do what she pleases, and he shall never\ndoubt that what she does is right. She bears him a son, beautiful as\nthe day, and throws him into the fire. She bears him a daughter, and\ngives her to a white bitch, who runs away with her, and disappears.\nThe emperor goes to war with the Moguls; and the queen utterly\ndestroys the provisions of his army. But the fire was a salamander,\nand the bitch a fairy, who rear the children in the most admirable\nmanner; and the provisions of the army were poisoned by a traitor, and\nare in a miraculous manner replaced by such as were wholesome and of\nthe most invigorating qualities.\n\n\nCAUSES OF HUMAN CREDULITY.\n\nMeanwhile, though the stories above related are extracted from books\npurely and properly of fiction, they  exhibit so just a delineation of\nEastern manners and habits of mind, that, in the defect of materials\nstrictly historical, they may to a certain degree supply the place.\nThe principal feature they set before us is credulity and a love of\nthe marvellous. This is ever found characteristic of certain ages of\nthe world; but in Asia it prevails in uninterrupted continuity.\nWherever learning and the exercise of the intellectual faculties first\nshew themselves, there mystery and a knowledge not to be communicated\nbut to the select few must be expected to appear. Wisdom in its\nnatural and genuine form seeks to diffuse itself; but in the East on\nthe contrary it is only valued in proportion to its rarity. Those who\ndevoted themselves to intellectual improvement, looked for it rather\nin solitary abstraction, than in free communication with the minds of\nothers; and, when they condescended to the use of the organ of speech,\nthey spoke in enigmas and ambiguities, and in phrases better adapted\nto produce wonder and perplexity, than to enlighten and instruct. When\nthe more consummate instructed the novice, it was by slow degrees only,\nand through the medium of a long probation. In consequence of this\nstate of things the privileged few conceived of their own attainments\nwith an over-weening pride, and were puffed up with a sense of\nsuperiority; while the mass of their fellow-creatures looked to them\nwith astonishment; and, agreeably to the Oriental creed of two\nindependent and contending principles of good and of evil, regarded\nthese select and supernaturally endowed beings anon as a source of the\nmost enviable blessings, and anon as objects of unmingled apprehension\nand terror, before whom their understandings became prostrate, and\nevery thing that was most appalling and dreadful was most easily\nbelieved. In this state superstition unavoidably grew infectious; and\nthe more the seniors inculcated and believed, the more the imagination\nof the juniors became a pliant and unresisting slave.\n\nThe Mantra, or charm, consisting of a few unintelligible words\nrepeated again and again, always accompanied, or rather preceded, the\nsupposed miraculous phenomenon that was imposed on the ignorant. Water\nwas flung over, or in the face of, the thing or person upon whom the\nmiraculous effect was to be produced. Incense was burned; and such\nchemical substances were set on fire, the dazzling appearance of which\nmight confound the senses of the spectators. The whole consisted in\nthe art of the juggler. The first business was to act on the passions,\nto excite awe and fear and curiosity in the parties; and next by a\nsort of slight of hand, and by changes too rapid to be followed by an\nunpractised eye, to produce phenomena, wholly unanticipated, and that\ncould not be accounted for. Superstition was further an essential\ningredient; and this is never perfect, but where the superior and more\nactive party regards himself as something more than human, and the\nparty acted upon beholds in the other an object of religious reverence,\nor tingles with apprehension of he knows not what of fearful and\ncalamitous. The state of the party acted on, and indeed of either, is\nnever complete, till the senses are confounded, what is imagined is so\npowerful as in a manner to exclude what is real, in a word, till, as\nthe poet expresses it, \"function is smothered in surmise, and nothing\nis, but what is not.\"\n\nIt is in such a state of the faculties that it is entirely natural and\nsimple, that one should mistake a mere dumb animal for one's relative\nor near connection in disguise. And, the delusion having once begun,\nthe deluded individual gives to every gesture and motion of limb and\neye an explanation that forwards the deception. It is in the same way\nthat in ignorant ages the notion of changeling has been produced. The\nweak and fascinated mother sees every feature with a turn of\nexpression unknown before, all the habits of the child appear\ndifferent and strange, till the parent herself denies her offspring,\nand sees in the object so lately cherished and doated on, a monster\nuncouth and horrible of aspect.\n\n\n\nDARK AGES OF EUROPE\n\n\nIn Europe we are slenderly supplied with historians, and with\nnarratives exhibiting the manners and peculiarities of successive\nraces of men, from the time of Theodosius in the close of the fourth\ncentury of the Christian era to the end of the tenth. Mankind during\nthat period were in an uncommon degree wrapped up in ignorance and\nbarbarism. We may be morally sure that this was an interval beyond all\nothers, in which superstition and an implicit faith in supernatural\nphenomena predominated over this portion of the globe. The laws of\nnature, and the everlasting chain of antecedents and consequents, were\nlittle recognised. In proportion as illumination and science have\nrisen on the world, men have become aware that the succession of\nevents is universally operating, and that the frame of men and animals\nis every where the same, modified only by causes not less unchangeable\nin their influence than the internal constitution of the frame itself.\nWe have learned to explain much; we are able to predict and investigate\nthe course of things; and the contemplative and the wise are not less\nintimately and profoundly persuaded that the process of natural events\nis sure and simple and void of all just occasion for surprise and the\nlifting up of hands in astonishment, where we are not yet familiarly\nacquainted with the developement of the elements of things, as where\nwe are. What we have not yet mastered, we feel confidently persuaded\nthat the investigators that come after us will reduce to rules not\nless obvious, familiar and comprehensible, than is to us the rising of\nthe sun, or the progress of animal and vegetable life from the first\nbud and seed of existence to the last stage of decrepitude and decay.\n\nBut in these ages of ignorance, when but few, and those only the most\nobvious, laws of nature were acknowledged, every event that was not of\nalmost daily occurrence, was contemplated with more or less of awe and\nalarm. These men \"saw God in clouds, and heard him in the wind.\"\nInstead of having regard only to that universal Providence, which acts\nnot by partial impulses, but by general laws, they beheld, as they\nconceived, the immediate hand of the Creator, or rather, upon most\noccasions, of some invisible intelligence, sometimes beneficent, but\nperhaps oftener malignant and capricious, interfering, to baffle the\nforesight of the sage, to humble the pride of the intelligent, and to\nplace the discernment of the most gifted upon a level with the\ndrivellings of the idiot, and the ravings of the insane.\n\nAnd, as in events men saw perpetually the supernatural and miraculous,\nso in their fellow-creatures they continually sought, and therefore\nfrequently imagined that they found, a gifted race, that had command\nover the elements, held commerce with the invisible world, and could\nproduce the most stupendous and terrific effects. In man, as we now\nbehold him, we can ascertain his nature, the strength and pliability\nof his limbs, the accuracy of his eye, the extent of his intellectual\nacquisitions, and the subtlety of his powers of thought, and can\ntherefore in a great measure anticipate what we have to hope or to\nfear from him. Every thing is regulated by what we call natural means.\nBut, in the times I speak of, all was mysterious: the powers of men\nwere subject to no recognised laws: and therefore nothing that\nimagination could suggest, exceeded the bounds of credibility. Some\nmen were supposed to be so rarely endowed that \"a thousand liveried\nangels\" waited on them invisibly, to execute their behests for the\nbenefit of those they favoured; while, much oftener, the perverse and\ncrookedly disposed, who delighted in mischief, would bring on those to\nwhom, for whatever capricious reason, they were hostile, calamities,\nwhich no sagacity could predict, and no merely human power could\nbaffle and resist.\n\nAfter the tenth century enough of credulity remained, to display in\nglaring colours the aberrations of the human mind, and to furnish\nforth tales which will supply abundant matter for the remainder of\nthis volume. But previously to this period, we may be morally sure,\nreigned most eminently the sabbath of magic and sorcery, when nothing\nwas too wild, and remote from the reality of things, not to meet with\nan eager welcome, when terror and astonishment united themselves with\na nameless delight, and the auditor was alarmed even to a sort of\nmadness, at the same time that he greedily demanded an ever-fresh\nsupply of congenial aliment. The more the known laws of the universe\nand the natural possibility of things were violated, with the stronger\nmarks of approbation was the tale received: while the dextrous\nimpostor, aware of the temper of his age, and knowing how most\ncompletely to blindfold and lead astray his prepared dupes, made a\nrich harvest of the folly of his contemporaries. But I am wrong to\ncall him an impostor. He imposed upon himself, no less than on the\ngaping crowd. His discourses, even in the act of being pronounced, won\nupon his own ear; and the dexterity with which he baffled the\nobservation of others, bewildered his ready sense, and filled him with\nastonishment at the magnitude of his achievements. The accomplished\nadventurer was always ready to regard himself rather as a sublime\nbeing endowed with great and stupendous attributes, than as a pitiful\ntrickster. He became the God of his own idolatry, and stood astonished,\nas the witch of Endor in the English Bible is represented to have done,\nat the success of his incantations.\n\nBut all these things are passed away, and are buried in the gulf of\noblivion. A thousand tales, each more wonderful than the other, marked\nthe year as it glided away. Every valley had its fairies; and every\nhill its giants. No solitary dwelling, unpeopled with human\ninhabitants, was without its ghosts; and no church-yard in the absence\nof day-light could be crossed with impunity. The gifted enchanter\n\"bedimmed\n\n  The noon-tide sun, willed forth the mutinous winds,\n  And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault\n  Set roaring war; to the dread, rattling thunder\n  He gave forth fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak\n  With his own bolt, the strong-based promontory\n  He made to shake, and by the spurs plucked up\n  The pine and cedar.\"\n\nIt is but a small remnant of these marvellous adventures that has been\npreserved. The greater part of them are swallowed up in that gulf of\noblivion, to which are successively consigned after a brief interval\nall events as they occur, except so far as their memory is preserved\nthrough the medium of writing and records. From the eleventh century\ncommences a stream of historical relation, which since that time never\nentirely eludes the search of the diligent enquirer. Before this\nperiod there occasionally appears an historian or miscellaneous writer:\nbut he seems to start up by chance; the eddy presently closes over him,\nand all is again impenetrable darkness.\n\nWhen this succession of writers began, they were unavoidably induced\nto look back upon the ages that had preceded them, and to collect here\nand there from tradition any thing that appeared especially worthy of\nnotice. Of course any information they could glean was wild and\nuncertain, deeply stamped with the credulity and wonder of an ignorant\nperiod, and still increasing in marvellousness and absurdity from\nevery hand it passed through, and from every tongue which repeated it.\n\n\nMERLIN.\n\nOne of the most extraordinary personages whose story is thus delivered\nto us, is Merlin. He appears to have been contemporary with the period\nof the Saxon invasion of Britain in the latter part of the fifth\ncentury; but probably the earliest mention of his name by any writer\nthat has come down to us is not previous to the eleventh. We may the\nless wonder therefore at the incredible things that are reported of\nhim. He is first mentioned in connection with the fortune of Vortigern,\nwho is represented by Geoffrey of Monmouth as at that time king of\nEngland. The Romans having withdrawn their legions from this island,\nthe unwarlike Britons found themselves incompetent to repel the\ninvasions of the uncivilised Scots and Picts, and Vortigern perceived\nno remedy but in inviting the Saxons from the northern continent to\nhis aid. The Saxons successfully repelled the invader; but, having\ndone this, they refused to return home. They determined to settle here,\nand, having taken various towns, are represented as at length inviting\nVortigern and his principal nobility to a feast near Salisbury under\npretence of a peace, where they treacherously slew three hundred of\nthe chief men of the island, and threw Vortigern into chains. Here, by\nway of purchasing the restoration of his liberty, they induced him to\norder the surrender of London, York, Winchester, and other principal\ntowns. Having lost all his strong holds, he consulted his magicians as\nto how he was to secure himself from this terrible foe. They advised\nhim to build an impregnable tower, and pointed out the situation where\nit was to be erected. But so unfortunately did their advice succeed,\nthat all the work that his engineers did in the building one day, the\nearth swallowed, so that no vestige was to be found on the next. The\nmagicians were consulted again on this fresh calamity; and they told\nthe king that that there was no remedying this disaster, other than by\ncementing the walls of his edifice with the blood of a human being,\nwho was born of no human father.\n\nVortigern sent out his emissaries in every direction in search of this\nvictim; and at length by strange good fortune they lighted on Merlin\nnear the town of Caermarthen, who told them that his mother was the\ndaughter of a king, but that she had been got with child of him by a\nbeing of an angelic nature, and not a man. No sooner had they received\nthis information, than they seized him, and hurried him away to\nVortigern as the victim required. But in presence of the king he\nbaffled the magicians; he told the king that the ground they had\nchosen for his tower, had underneath it a lake, which being drained,\nthey would find at the bottom two dragons of inextinguishable\nhostility, that under that form figured the Britons and Saxons, all of\nwhich upon the experiment proved to be true.\n\nVortigern died shortly after, and was succeeded first by Ambrosius,\nand then by Uther Pendragon. Merlin was the confident of all these\nkings. To Uther he exhibited a very criminal sort of compliance. Uther\nbecame desperately enamoured of Igerna, wife of the duke of Cornwal,\nand tried every means to seduce her in vain. Having consulted Merlin,\nthe magician contrived by an extraordinary unguent to metamorphose\nUther into the form of the duke. The duke had shut up his wife for\nsafety in a very strong tower; but Uther in his new form gained\nunsuspected entrance; and the virtuous Igerna received him to her\nembraces, by means of which he begot Arthur, afterwards the most\nrenowned sovereign of this island. Uther now contrived that the duke,\nher husband, should be slain in battle, and immediately married the\nfair Igerna, and made her his queen.\n\nThe next exploit of Merlin was with the intent to erect a monument\nthat should last for ever, to the memory of the three hundred British\nnobles that were massacred by the Saxons. This design produced the\nextraordinary edifice called Stonehenge. These mighty stones, which by\nno human power could be placed in the position in which we behold them,\nhad originally been set up in Africa, and afterwards by means unknown\nwere transported to Ireland. Merlin commanded that they should be\ncarried over the sea, and placed where they now are, on Salisbury\nPlain. The workmen, having received his directions, exerted all their\npower and skill, but could not move one of them. Merlin, having for\nsome time watched their exertions, at length applied his magic; and to\nthe amazement of every one, the stones spontaneously quitted the\nsituation in which they had been placed, rose to a great height in the\nair, and then pursued the course which Merlin had prescribed, finally\nsettling themselves in Wiltshire, precisely in the position in which\nwe now find them, and which they will for ever retain.\n\nThe last adventure recorded of Merlin proceeded from a project he\nconceived for surrounding his native town of Caermarthen with a brazen\nwall. He committed the execution of this project to a multitude of\nfiends, who laboured upon the plan underground in a neighbouring\ncavern. [150] In the mean while Merlin had become enamoured of a\nsupernatural being, called the Lady of the Lake. The lady had long\nresisted his importunities, and in fact had no inclination to yield to\nhis suit. One day however she sent for him in great haste; and Merlin\nwas of course eager to comply with her invitation. Nevertheless,\nbefore he set out, he gave it strictly in charge to the fiends, that\nthey should by no means suspend their labours till they saw him return.\nThe design of the lady was to make sport with him, and elude his\naddresses. Merlin on the contrary, with the hope to melt her severity,\nundertook to shew her the wonders of his art. Among the rest he\nexhibited to her observation a tomb, formed to contain two bodies; at\nthe same time teaching her a charm, by means of which the sepulchre\nwould close, and never again be opened. The lady pretended not to\nbelieve that the tomb was wide enough for its purpose, and inveigled\nthe credulous Merlin to enter it, and place himself as one dead. No\nsooner had she so far succeeded, than she closed the lid of the\nsepulchre, and pronouncing the charm, rendered it impossible that it\nshould ever be opened again till the day of judgment. Thus, according\nto the story, Merlin was shut in, a corrupted and putrifying body with\na living soul, to which still inhered the faculty of returning in\naudible sounds a prophetic answer to such as resorted to it as an\noracle. Meanwhile the fiends, at work in the cavern near Caermarthen,\nmindful of the injunction of their taskmaster, not to suspend their\nlabours till his return, proceed for ever in their office; and the\ntraveller who passes that way, if he lays his ear close to the mouth\nof the cavern, may hear a ghastly noise of iron chains and brazen\ncaldrons, the loud strokes of the hammer, and the ringing sound of the\nanvil, intermixed with the pants and groans of the workmen, enough to\nunsettle the brain and confound the faculties of him that for any time\nshall listen to the din.\n\nAs six hundred years elapsed between the time of Merlin and the\nearliest known records of his achievements, it is impossible to\npronounce what he really pretended to perform, and how great were the\nadditions which successive reporters have annexed to the wonders of\nhis art, more than the prophet himself perhaps ever dreamed of. In\nlater times, when the historians were the contemporaries of the\npersons by whom the supposed wonders were achieved, or the persons who\nhave for these causes been celebrated have bequeathed certain literary\nproductions to posterity, we may be able to form some conjecture as to\nthe degree in which the heroes of the tale were deluding or deluded,\nand may exercise our sagacity in the question by what strange\npeculiarity of mind adventures which we now hold to be impossible\nobtained so general belief. But in a case like this of Merlin, who\nlived in a time so remote from that in which his history is first\nknown to have been recorded, it is impracticable to determine at what\ntime the fiction which was afterwards generally received began to be\nreported, or whether the person to whom the miracles were imputed ever\nheard or dreamed of the extraordinary things he is represented as\nhaving achieved.\n\n\nST. DUNSTAN.\n\nAn individual scarcely less famous in the dark ages, and who, like\nMerlin, lived in confidence with successive kings, was St. Dunstan. He\nwas born and died in the tenth century. It is not a little instructive\nto employ our attention upon the recorded adventures, and incidents\noccurring in the lives, of such men, since, though plentifully\ninterspersed with impossible tales, they serve to discover to us the\ntastes and prepossessions of the times in which these men lived, and\nthe sort of accomplishments which were necessary to their success.\n\nSt. Dunstan is said to have been a man of distinguished birth, and to\nhave spent the early years of his life in much licentiousness. He was\nhowever doubtless a person of the most extraordinary endowments of\nnature. Ambition early lighted its fire in his bosom; and he displayed\nthe greatest facility in acquiring any talent or art on which he fixed\nhis attention. His career of profligacy was speedily arrested by a\ndangerous illness, in which he was given over by his physicians. While\nhe lay apparently at the point of death, an angel was suddenly seen,\nbringing a medicine to him which effected his instant cure. The saint\nimmediately rose from his bed, and hastened to the nearest church to\ngive God thanks for his recovery. As he passed along, the devil,\nsurrounded with a pack of black dogs, interposed himself to obstruct\nhis way. Dunstan however intrepidly brandished a rod that he held in\nhis hand, and his opposers took to flight. When he came to the church,\nhe found the doors closed. But the same angel, who effected his cure,\nwas at hand, and, taking him up softly by the hair of his head, placed\nhim before the high altar, where he performed his devotions with\nsuitable fervour.\n\nThat he might expiate the irregularities of his past life, St. Dunstan\nnow secluded himself entirely from the world, and constructed for his\nhabitation a cell in the abbey of Glastonbury, so narrow that he could\nneither stand upright in it, nor stretch out his limbs in repose. He\ntook scarcely so much sustenance as would support life, and mortified\nhis flesh with frequent castigations.\n\nHe did not however pass his time during this seclusion in vacuity and\nindolence. He pursued his studies with the utmost ardour, and made a\ngreat proficiency in philosophy, divinity, painting, sculpture and\nmusic. Above all, he was an admirable chemist, excelled in manufactures\nof gold and other metals, and was distinguished by a wonderful skill\nin the art of magic.\n\nDuring all these mortifications and the severeness of his industry, he\nappears to have become a prey to extraordinary visions and\nimaginations. Among the rest, the devil visited him in his cell, and,\nthrusting his head in at the window, disturbed the saint with obscene\nand blasphemous speeches, and the most frightful contortions of the\nfeatures of his countenance. Dunstan at length, wearied out with his\nperseverance, seized the red-hot tongs with which he was engaged in\nsome chemical experiment, and, catching the devil by the nose, held\nhim with the utmost firmness, while Satan filled the whole\nneighbourhood for many miles round with his bellowings. Extraordinary\nas this may appear, it constitutes one of the most prominent incidents\nin the life of the saint; and the representations of it were for ever\nrepeated in ancient carvings, and in the illuminations of\nchurch-windows.\n\nThis was the precise period at which the pope and his adherents were\ngaining the greatest ascendancy in the Christian world. The doctrine\nof transubstantiation was now in the highest vogue; and along with it\na precept still more essential to the empire of the Catholic church,\nthe celibacy of the clergy. This was not at first established without\nvehement struggles. The secular clergy, who were required at once to\ncast off their wives as concubines, and their children as bastards,\nfound every impulse of nature rising in arms against the mandate. The\nregular clergy, or monks, were in obvious rivalship with the seculars,\nand engrossed to themselves, as much as possible, all promotions and\ndignities, as well ecclesiastical as civil. St. Augustine, who first\nplanted Christianity in this island, was a Benedictine monk; and the\nBenedictines were for a long time in the highest reputation in the\nCatholic church. St. Dunstan was also a Benedictine. In his time the\nquestion of the celibacy of the clergy was most vehemently agitated;\nand Dunstan was the foremost of the champions of the new institution\nin England. The contest was carried on with great vehemence. Many of\nthe most powerful nobility, impelled either by pity for the sufferers,\nor induced by family affinities, supported the cause of the seculars.\nThree successive synods were held on the subject; and the cause of\nnature it is said would have prevailed, had not Dunstan and his\nconfederates called in the influence of miracles to their aid. In one\ninstance, a crucifix, fixed in a conspicuous part of the place of\nassembly, uttered a voice at the critical moment, saying, \"Be steady!\nyou have once decreed right; alter not your ordinances.\" At another\ntime the floor of the place of meeting partially gave way,\nprecipitating the ungodly opposers of celibacy into the place beneath,\nwhile Dunstan and his party, who were in another part of the assembly,\nwere miraculously preserved unhurt.\n\nIn these instances Dunstan seemed to be engaged in the cause of\nreligion, and might be considered as a zealous, though mistaken,\nadvocate of Christian simplicity and purity. But he was not contented\nwith figuring merely as a saint. He insinuated himself into the favour\nof Edred, the grandson of Alfred, and who, after two or three short\nreigns, succeeded to the throne. Edred was an inactive prince, but\ngreatly under the dominion of religious prejudices; and Dunstan, being\nintroduced to him, found him an apt subject for his machinations.\nEdred first made him abbot of Glastonbury, one of the most powerful\necclesiastical dignities in England, and then treasurer of the kingdom.\nDuring the reign of this prince, Dunstan disposed of all ecclesiastical\naffairs, and even of the treasures of the kingdom, at his pleasure.\n\nBut Edred filled the throne only nine years, and was succeeded by Edwy\nat the early age of seventeen, who is said to have been endowed with\nevery grace of form, and the utmost firmness and intrepidity of spirit.\nDunstan immediately conceived a jealousy of these qualities, and took\nan early opportunity to endeavour to disarm them. Edwy entertained a\npassion for a princess of the royal house, and even proceeded to marry\nher, though within the degrees forbidden by the canon law. The rest of\nthe story exhibits a lively picture of the manners of these barbarous\ntimes. Odo, archbishop of Canterbury, the obedient tool of Dunstan, on\nthe day of the coronation obtruded himself with his abettor into the\nprivate apartment, to which the king had retired with his queen, only\naccompanied by her mother; and here the ambitious abbot, after loading\nEdwy with the bitterest reproaches for his shameless sensuality,\nthrust him back by main force into the hall, where the nobles of the\nkingdom were still engaged at their banquet.\n\nThe spirited young prince conceived a deep resentment of this unworthy\ntreatment, and, seizing an opportunity, called Dunstan to account for\nmalversation in the treasury during the late king's life-time. The\npriest refused to answer; and the issue was that he was banished the\nrealm.\n\nBut he left behind him a faithful and implicit coadjutor in archbishop\nOdo. This prelate is said actually to have forced his way with a party\nof soldiers into the palace, and, having seized the queen, barbarously\nto have seared her cheeks with a red-hot iron, and sent her off a\nprisoner to Ireland. He then proceeded to institute all the forms of a\ndivorce, to which the unhappy king was obliged to submit. Meanwhile\nthe queen, having recovered her beauty, found means to escape, and,\ncrossing the Channel, hastened to join her husband. But here again the\npriests manifested the same activity as before. They intercepted the\nqueen in her journey, and by the most cruel means undertook to make\nher a cripple for life. The princess however sunk under the experiment,\nand ended her existence and her woes together.\n\nA rebellion was now excited against the sacrilegious Edwy; and the\nwhole north of England, having rebelled, was placed under the dominion\nof his brother, a boy of thirteen years of age. In the midst of these\nadventures Dunstan returned from the continent, and fearlessly shewed\nhimself in his native country. His party was every where triumphant;\nOdo being dead, he was installed archbishop of Canterbury, and Edwy,\noppressed with calamity on every side, sunk to an untimely grave.\n\nThe rest of the life of Dunstan was passed in comparatively\ntranquillity. He made and unmade kings as he pleased. Edgar, the\nsuccessor of Edwy, discovered the happy medium of energy and authority\nas a sovereign, combined with a disposition to indulge the ambitious\npolicy of the priesthood. He was licentious in his amours, without\nlosing a particle of his ascendancy as a sovereign. He however reigned\nonly a few years; but Dunstan at his death found means to place his\neldest son on the throne under his special protection, in defiance of\nthe intrigues of the ambitious Elfrida, the king's second wife, who\nmoved heaven and earth to cause the crown to descend upon her own son,\nas yet comparatively an infant.\n\nIn this narrative we are presented with a lively picture of the means\nby which ambition climbed to its purposes in the darkness of the tenth\ncentury. Dunstan was enriched with all those endowments which might\nseem in any age to lead to the highest distinction. Yet it would\nappear to have been in vain that he was thus qualified, if he had not\nstooped to arts that fell in with the gross prejudices of his\ncontemporaries. He had continual recourse to the aid of miracles. He\ngave into practices of the most rigorous mortification. He studied,\nand excelled in, all the learning and arts that were then known. But\nhis main dependence was on the art of magic. The story of his taking\nthe devil by the nose with a pair of red-hot tongs, seems to have been\nof greater service to him than any other single adventure of his life.\nIn other times he might have succeeded in the schemes of his political\nambition by seemly and specious means. But it was necessary for him in\nthe times in which he lived, to proceed with eclat, and in a way that\nshould confound all opposers. The utmost resolution was required to\noverwhelm those who might otherwise have been prompted to contend\nagainst him. Hence it appears that he took a right measure of the\nunderstanding of his contemporaries, when he dragged the young king\nfrom the scene of his retirement, and brought him back by force into\nthe assembly of the nobles. And the inconceivable barbarity practised\nto the queen, which would have rendered his name horrible in a more\ncivilised age, was exactly calculated to overwhelm the feelings and\nsubject the understandings of the men among whom he lived. The great\nquality by which he was distinguished was confidence, a frame of\nbehaviour which shewed that he acted from the fullest conviction, and\nnever doubted that his proceedings had the immediate approbation of\nheaven.\n\n\n\n\nCOMMUNICATION OF EUROPE AND THE SARACENS\n\n\nIt appears to have been about the close of the tenth century that the\nmore curious and inquisitive spirits of Europe first had recourse to\nthe East as a source of such information and art, as they found most\nglaringly deficient among their countrymen. We have seen that in\nPersia there was an uninterrupted succession of professors in the art\nof magic: and, when the followers of Mahomet by their prowess had\ngained the superiority over the greater part of Asia, over all that\nwas known of Africa, and a considerable tract of Europe, they\ngradually became awake to the desire of cultivating the sciences, and\nin particular of making themselves masters of whatever was most\nliberal and eminent among the disciples of Zoroaster. To this they\nadded a curiosity respecting Greek learning, especially as it related\nto medicine and the investigation of the powers of physical nature.\nBagdad became an eminent seat of learning; and perhaps, next to Bagdad,\nSpain under the Saracens, or Moors, was a principal abode for the\nprofessors of ingenuity and literature.\n\n\nGERBERT, POPE SILVESTER II.\n\nAs a consequence of this state of things the more curious men of\nEurope by degrees adopted the practice of resorting to Spain for the\npurpose of enlarging their sphere of observation and knowledge. Among\nothers Gerbert is reported to have been the first of the Christian\nclergy, who strung themselves up to the resolution of mixing with the\nfollowers of Mahomet, that they might learn from thence things, the\nknowledge of which it was impossible for them to obtain at home. This\ngenerous adventurer, prompted by an insatiable thirst for information,\nis said to have secretly withdrawn himself from his monastery of\nFleury in Burgundy, and to have spent several years among the Saracens\nof Cordova. Here he acquired a knowledge of the language and learning\nof the Arabians, particularly of their astronomy, geometry and\narithmetic; and he is understood to have been the first that imparted\nto the north and west of Europe a knowledge of the Arabic numerals, a\nscience, which at first sight might be despised for its simplicity,\nbut which in its consequences is no inconsiderable instrument in\nsubtilising the powers of human intellect. He likewise introduced the\nuse of clocks. He is also represented to have made an extraordinary\nproficiency in the art of magic; and among other things is said to\nhave constructed a brazen head, which would answer when it was spoken\nto, and oracularly resolve many difficult questions. [151] The same\nhistorian assures us that Gerbert by the art of necromancy made\nvarious discoveries of hidden treasures, and relates in all its\ncircumstances the spectacle of a magic palace he visited underground,\nwith the multiplied splendours of an Arabian tale, but distinguished\nby this feature, that, though its magnificence was dazzling to the\nsight, it would not abide the test of feeling, but vanished into air,\nthe moment it was attempted to be touched.\n\nIt happened with Gerbert, as with St. Dunstan, that he united an\naspiring mind and a boundless spirit of ambition, with the\nintellectual curiosity which has already been described. The first\nstep that he made into public life and the career for which he panted,\nconsisted in his being named preceptor, first to Robert, king of\nFrance, the son of Hugh Capet, and next to Otho the Third, emperor of\nGermany. Hugh Capet appointed him archbishop of Rheims; but, that\ndignity being disputed with him, he retired into Germany, and,\nbecoming eminently a favourite with Otho the Third, he was by the\ninfluence of that prince raised, first to be archbishop of Ravenna,\nand afterwards to the papacy by the name of Silvester the Second. [152]\n\nCardinal Benno, who was an adherent of the anti-popes, and for that\nreason is supposed to have calumniated Gerbert and several of his\nsuccessors, affirms that he was habitually waited on by demons, that\nby their aid he obtained the papal crown, and that the devil to whom\nhe had sold himself, faithfully promised him that he should live, till\nhe had celebrated high mass at Jerusalem. This however was merely a\njuggle of the evil spirit; and Gerbert actually died, shortly after\nhaving officially dispensed the sacrament at the church of the Holy\nCross in Jerusalem, which is one of the seven districts of the city of\nRome. This event occurred in the year 1008. [153]\n\n\nBENEDICT THE NINTH.\n\nAccording to the same authority sorcery was at this time extensively\npractised by some of the highest dignitaries of the church, and five\nor six popes in succession were notorious for these sacrilegious\npractices. About the same period the papal chair was at its lowest\nstate of degradation; this dignity was repeatedly exposed for sale;\nand the reign of Gerbert, a man of consummate abilities and\nattainments, is almost the only redeeming feature in the century in\nwhich he lived. At length the tiara became the purchase of an\nambitious family, which had already furnished two popes, in behalf of\na boy of twelve years of age, who reigned by the name of Benedict the\nNinth. This youth, as he grew up, contaminated his rule with every\nkind of profligacy and debauchery. But even he, according to Benno,\nwas a pupil in the school of Silvester, and became no mean proficient\nin the arts of sorcery. Among other things he caused the matrons of\nRome by his incantations to follow him in troops among woods and\nmountains, being bewitched and their souls subdued by the irresistible\ncharms of his magic. [154]\n\n\nGREGORY THE SEVENTH.\n\nBenno presents us with a regular catalogue of the ecclesiastical\nsorcerers of this period: Benedict the Ninth, and Laurence, archbishop\nof Melfi, (each of whom, he says, learned the art of Silvester),\nJohn XX and Gregory VI. But his most vehement accusations are directed\nagainst Gregory VII, who, he affirms, was in the early part of his\ncareer, the constant companion and assistant of these dignitaries in\nunlawful practices of this sort.\n\nGregory VII, whose original name was Hildebrand, is one of the great\nchampions of the Romish church, and did more than any other man to\nestablish the law of the celibacy of the clergy, and to take the\npatronage of ecclesiastical dignities out of the hands of the laity.\nHe was eminently qualified for this undertaking by the severity of his\nmanners, and the inflexibility of his resolution to accomplish whatever\nhe undertook.\n\nHis great adversary was Henry the Fourth, emperor of Germany, a young\nprince of high spirit, and at that time (1075) twenty-four years of\nage. Gregory sent to summon him to Rome, to answer an accusation, that\nhe, as all his predecessors had done, being a layman, had conferred\necclesiastical dignities. Henry refused submission, and was immediately\ndeclared excommunicated. In retaliation for this offence, the emperor,\nit is said, gave his orders to a chief of brigands, who, watching his\nopportunity, seized the pope in the act of saying mass in one of the\nchurches of Rome, and carried him prisoner to a tower in the city\nwhich was in the possession of this adventurer. But no sooner was this\nknown, than the citizens of Rome, rose _en masse_, and rescued\ntheir spiritual father. Meanwhile Henry, to follow up his blow,\nassembled a synod at Worms, who pronounced on the pope, that for\nmanifold crimes he was fallen from his supreme dignity, and\naccordingly fulminated a decree of deposition against him. But Henry\nhad no forces to carry this decree into execution; and Gregory on his\nside emitted a sentence of degradation against the emperor, commanding\nthe Germans to elect a new emperor in his place. It then became\nevident that, in this age of ignorance and religious subjugation, the\nspiritual arm, at least in Germany, was more powerful than the\ntemporal; and Henry, having maturely considered the perils that\nsurrounded him, took the resolution to pass the Alps with a few\ndomestics only, and, repairing to the presence of the pope, submit\nhimself to such penance as the pontiff should impose. Gregory was at\nthis time at Canosa, a fortress beyond Naples, which was surrounded\nwith three walls. Henry, without any attendant, was admitted within\nthe first wall. Here he was required to cast off all the symbols of\nroyalty, to put on a hair-shirt, and to wait barefoot his holiness's\npleasure. He stood accordingly, fasting from morn to eve, without\nreceiving the smallest notice from the pontiff. It was in the month of\nJanuary. He passed through the same trial the second day, and the\nthird. On the fourth day in the morning he was admitted to the\npresence of the holy father. They parted however more irreconcileable\nin heart than ever, though each preserved the appearance of good will.\nThe pope insisted that Henry should abide the issue of the congress in\nGermany, of which he constituted himself president; and the emperor,\nexasperated at the treatment he had received, resolved to keep no\nterms with Gregory. Henry proceeded to the election of an anti-pope,\nClement the Third, and Gregory patronised a new emperor, Rodolph, duke\nof Suabia. Henry had however generally been successful in his military\nenterprises; and he defeated Rodolph in two battles, in the last of\nwhich his opponent was slain. In the synod of Brixen, in which Clement\nthe Third was elected, Gregory was sentenced as a magician and a\nnecromancer. The emperor, puffed up with his victories, marched\nagainst Rome, and took it, with the exception of the castle of St.\nAngelo, in which the pope shut himself up; and in the mean time Henry\ncaused the anti-pope, his creature, to be solemnly inaugurated in the\nchurch of the Lateran. Gregory however, never dismayed, and never at\nan end of his expedients, called in the Normans, who had recently\ndistinguished themselves by their victories in Naples and Sicily.\nRobert Guiscard, a Norman chieftain, drove the Germans out of Rome;\nbut, some altercations ensuing between the pontiff and his deliverer,\nthe city was given up to pillage, and Gregory was glad to take refuge\nin Salerno, the capital of his Norman ally, where he shortly after\nexpired, an exile and a fugitive.\n\nGregory was no doubt a man of extraordinary resources and invincible\ncourage. He did not live to witness the triumph of his policy; but his\nprojects for the exaltation of the church finally met with every\nsuccess his most sanguine wishes could have aspired to. In addition to\nall the rest it happened, that the countess Matilda, a princess who in\nher own right possessed extensive sovereignties in Italy, nearly\ncommensurate with what has since been styled the ecclesiastical state,\ntransferred to the pope in her life-time, and confirmed by her\ntestament, all these territories, thus mainly contributing to render\nhim and his successors so considerable as temporal princes, as since\nthat time they have appeared.\n\nIt is, however, as a sorcerer, that Gregory VII (Hildebrand) finds a\nplace in this volume. Benno relates that, coming one day from his\nAlban villa, he found, just as he was entering the church of the\nLateran, that he had left behind him his magical book, which he was\nascustomed to carry about his person. He immediately sent two trusty\nservants to fetch it, at the same time threatening them most fearfully\nif they should attempt to look into the volume. Curiosity however got\nthe better of their fear. They opened the book, and began to read;\nwhen presently a number of devils appeared, saying, \"We are come to\nobey your commands, but, if we find ourselves trifled with, we shall\ncertainly fall upon and destroy you.\" The servants, exceedingly\nterrified, replied, \"Our will is that you should immediately throw\ndown so much of the wall of the city as is now before us.\" The devils\nobeyed; and the servants escaped the danger that hung over them. [155]\nIt is further said, that Gregory was so expert in the arts of magic,\nthat he would throw out lightning by shaking his arm, and dart thunder\nfrom his sleeve. [156]\n\nBut the most conspicuous circumstance in the life of Gregory that has\nbeen made the foundation of a charge of necromancy against him, is\nthat, when Rodolph marched against Henry IV, the pope was so confident\nof his success, as to venture publicly to prophesy, both in speech and\nin writing, that his adversary should be conquered and perish in this\ncampaign. \"Nay,\" he added, \"this prophecy shall be accomplished before\nSt. Peter's day; nor do I desire any longer to be acknowledged for\npope, than on the condition that this comes to pass.\" It is added,\nthat Rodolph, relying on the prediction, six times renewed the battle,\nin which finally he perished instead of his competitor. But this does\nnot go far enough to substantiate a charge of necromancy. It is\nfurther remarked, that Gregory was deep in the pretended science of\njudicial astrology; and this, without its being necessary to have\nrecourse to the solution of diabolical aid, may sufficiently account\nfor the undoubting certainty with which he counted on the event.\n\nIn the mean time this statement is of great importance, as illustrative\nof the spirit of the times in general, and the character of Gregory in\nparticular. Rodolph, the competitor for the empire, has his mind wrought\nup to such a pitch by this prophetic assurance, that, five times\nrepulsed, he yet led on his forces a sixth time, and perished the\nvictim of his faith. Nor were his followers less animated than he, and\nfrom the same cause. We see also from the same story, that Gregory was\nnot an artful and crafty impostor, but a man spurred on by a genuine\nenthusiasm. And this indeed is necessary to account for the whole of\nhis conduct. The audacity with which he opposed the claims of Henry,\nand the unheard-of severity with which he treated him at the fortress\nof Canosa, are to be referred to the same feature of character.\nInvincible perseverance, when united with great resources of intellect\nand a lofty spirit, will enable a man thoroughly to effect, what a\nperson of inferior endowments would not have dared so much as to dream\nof. And Gregory, like St. Dunstan, achieved incredible things, by\nskilfully adapting himself to circumstances, and taking advantage of\nthe temper and weakness of his contemporaries.\n\n\nDUFF, KING OF SCOTLAND.\n\nIt is not to be wondered at, when such things occurred in Italy, the\nprincipal seat of all the learning and refinement then existing in\nEurope, that the extreme northerly and western districts should have\nbeen given up to the blindest superstition. Among other instances we\nhave the following account in relation to Duff, king of Scotland, who\ncame to the crown about the year 968. He found his kingdom in the\ngreatest disorder from numerous bands of robbers, many of whom were\npersons of high descent, but of no competent means of subsistence.\nDuff resolved to put an end to their depredations, and to secure those\nwho sought a quiet support from cultivating the fruits of the earth\nfrom forcible invasion. He executed the law against these disturbers\nwithout respect of persons, and hence made himself many and powerful\nenemies. In the midst of his activity however he suddenly fell sick,\nand became confined to his bed. His physicians could no way account\nfor his distemper. They found no excess of any humour in his body to\nwhich they could attribute his illness; his colour was fresh, and his\neyes lively; and he had a moderate and healthful appetite. But with\nall this he was a total stranger to sleep; he burst out into\nimmoderate perspirations; and there was scarcely any thing that\nremained of him, but skin and bone. In the meantime secret information\nwas brought that all this evil was the result of witchcraft. And, the\nhouse being pointed out in which the sorcerers held their sabbath, a\nband of soldiers was sent to surprise them. The doors being burst open,\nthey found one woman roasting upon a spit by the fire a waxen image of\nthe king, so like in every feature, that no doubt was entertained that\nit was modelled by the art of the devil, while another sat by, busily\nengaged in reciting certain verses of enchantment, by which means, as\nthe wax melted, the king was consumed with perspiration, and, as soon\nas it was utterly dissolved, his death should immediately follow. The\nwitches were seized, and from their own confession burned alive. The\nimage was broken to pieces, and every fragment of it destroyed. And no\nsooner was this effected, than Duff had all that night the most\nrefreshing and healthful sleep, and the next day rose without any\nremains of his infirmity. [157]\n\nThis reprieve however availed him but for a short time. He was no\nsooner recovered, than he occupied himself as before with pursuing the\noutlaws, whom he brought indiscriminately to condign punishment. Among\nthese there chanced to be two young men, near relations of the\ngovernor of the castle of Fores, who had hitherto been the king's most\nfaithful adherents. These young men had been deluded by ill company:\nand the governor most earnestly sued to Duff for their pardon. But the\nking was inexorable. Meanwhile, as he had always placed the most\nentire trust in their father, he continued to do so without the\nsmallest suspicion. The night after the execution, the king slept in\nthe castle of Fores, as he had often done before; but the governor,\nconceiving the utmost rancour at the repulse he had sustained, and\nmoreover instigated by his wife, in the middle of the night murdered\nDuff in his bed, as he slept. His reign lasted only four years. [158]\n\n\nMACBETH.\n\nThe seventh king of Scotland after Duff, with an interval of\nsixty-eight years, was Macbeth. The historian begins his tale of\nwitchcraft, towards the end of the reign of Duncan, his predecessor,\nwith observing, \"Shortly after happened a strange and uncouth wonder,\nwhich afterward was the cause of much trouble in the realm of Scotland.\nIt fortuned, as Macbeth and Banquo journeyed towards Fores, where the\nking as then lay, they went sporting by the way together, without\nother company save only themselves, passing through the woods and\nfields, when suddenly, in the midst of a laund, there met them three\nwomen in strange and ferly apparel, resembling creatures of an elder\nworld, whom when they attentively beheld, wondering much at the sight,\nthe first of them spake and said, All hail, Macbeth, thane of Glamis\n(for he had lately entered into that dignity and office by the death\nof his father Synel). The second of them said, Hail, Macbeth, thane of\nCawdor. But the third said, All hail, Macbeth, that hereafter shall be\nking of Scotland. Then Banquo, What sort of women, said he, are you,\nthat seem so little favourable unto me, whereas to my fellow here,\nbesides high offices, ye assign also the kingdom, appointing forth\nnothing for me at all? Yes, saith the first of them, we promise\ngreater benefits unto thee than unto him, for he shall reign indeed,\nbut with an unlucky end, neither shall he leave any issue behind him\nto succeed in his place; where contrarily thou indeed shall not reign\nat all, but of thee those shall be born, which shall govern the\nScottish kingdom by long order of continual descent. Herewith the\nforesaid women vanished immediately out of their sight.\n\n\"This was reputed at the first but some vain fantastical illusion by\nMacbeth and Banquo, insomuch that Banquo would call Macbeth in jest\nking of Scotland, and Macbeth again would call him in sport likewise\nthe father of many kings. But afterwards the common opinion was, that\nthese women were either the weird sisters, that is (as you would say)\nthe goddesses of destiny, or else some nymphs or fairies, endued with\nknowledge of prophecy by their necromantical science, because every\nthing came to pass as they had spoken.\n\n\"For shortly after, the thane of Cawdor, being condemned at Fores of\ntreason against the king committed, his lands, livings and offices\nwere given of the king's liberality unto Macbeth.\" [159]\n\nMalcolm, the preceding king of Scotland, had two daughters, one of\nthem the mother of Duncan, and the other of Macbeth; and in virtue of\nthis descent Duncan succeeded to the crown. The accession of Macbeth\ntherefore was not very remote, if he survived the present king. Of\nconsequence Macbeth, though he thought much of the prediction of the\nweird sisters, yet resolved to wait his time, thinking that, as had\nhappened in his former preferment, this might come to pass without his\naid. But Duncan had two sons, Malcolm Cammore and Donald Bane. The law\nof succession in Scotland was, that, if at the death of the reigning\nsovereign he that should succeed were not of sufficient age to take on\nhim the government, he that was next of blood to him should be\nadmitted. Duncan however at this juncture created his eldest son\nMalcolm prince of Cumberland, a title which was considered as\ndesignating him heir to the throne. Macbeth was greatly troubled at\nthis, as cutting off the expectation he thought he had a right to\nentertain: and, the words of the weird sisters still ringing in his\nears, and his wife with ambitious speeches urging him to the deed, he,\nin conjunction with some trusty friends, among whom was Banquo, came\nto a resolution to kill the king at Inverness. The deed being\nperpetrated, Malcolm, the eldest son of Duncan, fled for safety into\nCumberland, and Donald, the second, into Ireland. [160]\n\nMacbeth, who became king of Scotland in the year 1010, reigned for ten\nyears with great popularity and applause, but at the end of that time\nchanged his manner of government, and became a tyrant. His first\naction in this character was against Banquo. He remembered that the\nweird sisters had promised to Banquo that he should be father to a\nline of kings. Haunted with this recollection, Macbeth invited Banquo\nand his son Fleance to a supper, and appointed assassins to murder\nthem both on their return. Banquo was slain accordingly; but Fleance,\nunder favour of the darkness of the night, escaped. [161]\n\nThis murder brought Macbeth into great odium, since every man began to\ndoubt of the security of his life, and Macbeth at the same time to\nfear the ill will of his subjects. He therefore proceeded to destroy\nall against whom he entertained any suspicion, and every day more and\nmore to steep his hands in blood. Further to secure himself, he built\na castle on the top of a high hill, called Dunsinnan, which was placed\non such an elevation, that it seemed impossible to approach it in a\nhostile manner. This work he carried on by means of requiring the\nthanes of the kingdom, each one in turn, to come with a set of workmen\nto help forward the edifice. When it came to the turn of Macduff,\nthane of Fife, he sent workmen, but did not come himself, as the\nothers had done. Macbeth from that time regarded Macduff with an eye\nof perpetual suspicion. [162]\n\nMeanwhile Macbeth, remembering that the origin of his present\ngreatness consisted in the prophecy of the weird sisters, addicted\nhimself continually to the consulting of wizards. Those he consulted\ngave him a pointed warning to take heed of Macduff, who in time to\ncome would seek to destroy him. This warning would unquestionably have\nproved fatal to Macduff; had not on the other hand Macbeth been buoyed\nup in security, by the prediction of a certain witch in whom he had\ngreat trust, that he should never be vanquished till the wood of\nBernane came to the castle of Dunsinnan, and that he should not be\nslain by any man that was born of a woman; both which he judged to be\nimpossibilities. [163]\n\nThis vain confidence however urged him to do many outrageous things;\nat the same time that such was his perpetual uneasiness of mind, that\nin every nobleman's house he had one servant or another in fee, that\nhe might be acquainted with every thing that was said or meditated\nagainst him. About this time Macduff fled to Malcolm, who had now\ntaken refuge in the court of Edward the Confessor; and Macbeth came\nwith a strong party into Fife with the purpose of surprising him. The\nmaster being safe, those within Macduff's castle threw open the gates,\nthinking that no mischief would result from receiving the king. But\nMacbeth, irritated that he missed of his prey, caused Macduff's wife\nand children, and all persons who were found within the castle, to be\nslain. [164]\n\nShortly after, Malcolm and Macduff, reinforced by ten thousand English\nunder the command of Seyward, earl of Northumberland, marched into\nScotland. The subjects of Macbeth stole away daily from him to join\nthe invaders; but he had such confidence in the predictions that had\nbeen delivered to him, that he still believed he should never be\nvanquished. Malcolm meanwhile, as he approached to the castle of\nDunsinnan, commanded his men to cut down, each of them, a bough from\nthe wood of Bernane, as large as he could bear, that they might take\nthe tyrant the more by surprise. Macbeth saw, and thought the wood\napproached him; but he remembered the prophecy, and led forth and\nmarshalled his men. When however the enemy threw down their boughs,\nand their formidable numbers stood revealed, Macbeth and his forces\nimmediately betook themselves to flight. Macduff pursued him, and was\nhard at his heels, when the tyrant turned his horse, and exclaimed,\n\"Why dost thou follow me? Know, that it is ordained that no creature\nborn of a woman can ever overcome me.\" Macduff instantly retorted, \"I\nam the man appointed to slay thee. I was not born of a woman, but was\nuntimely ripped from my mother's womb.\" And, saying this, he killed\nhim on the spot. Macbeth reigned in the whole seventeen years. [165]\n\n\nVIRGIL.\n\nOne of the most curious particulars, and which cannot be omitted in a\nhistory of sorcery, is the various achievements in the art of magic\nwhich have been related of the poet Virgil. I bring them in here,\nbecause they cannot be traced further back than the eleventh or\ntwelfth century. The burial-place of this illustrious man was at\nPausilippo, near Naples; the Neapolitans had for many centuries\ncherished a peculiar reverence for his memory; and it has been\nsupposed that the old ballads, and songs of the minstrels of the north\nof Italy, first originated this idea respecting him. [166] The vulgar\nof this city, full of imagination and poetry, conceived the idea of\ntreating him as the guardian genius of the place; and, in bodying\nforth this conception, they represented him in his life-time as gifted\nwith supernatural powers, which he employed in various ways for the\nadvantage of a city that he so dearly loved. Be this as it will, it\nappears that Gervais of Tilbury, chancellor to Otho the Fourth,\nemperor of Germany, Helinandus, a Cisterian monk, and Alexander Neckam,\nall of whom lived about this time, first recorded these particulars in\ntheir works.\n\nThey tell us, that Virgil placed a fly of brass over one of the gates\nof the city, which, as long as it continued there, that is, for a\nspace of eight years, had the virtue of keeping Naples clear from\nmoskitoes and all noxious insects: that he built a set of shambles,\nthe meat in which was at all times free from putrefaction: that he\nplaced two images over the gates of the city, one of which was named\nJoyful, and the other Sad, one of resplendent beauty, and the other\nhideous and deformed, and that whoever entered the town under the\nformer image would succeed in all his undertakings, and under the\nlatter would as certainly miscarry: that he caused a brazen statue to\nbe erected on a mountain near Naples, with a trumpet in his mouth,\nwhich when the north wind blew, sounded so shrill as to drive to the\nsea the fire and smoke which issued from the neighbouring forges of\nVulcan: that he built different baths at Naples, specifically prepared\nfor the cure of every disease, which were afterwards demolished by the\nmalice of the physicians: and that he lighted a perpetual fire for the\nrefreshment of all travellers, close to which he placed an archer of\nbrass, with his bow bent, and this inscription, \"Whoever strikes me, I\nwill let fly my arrow:\" that a fool-hardy fellow notwithstanding\nstruck the statue, when the arrow was immediately shot into the fire,\nand the fire was extinguished. It is added, that, Naples being\ninfested with a vast multitude of contagious leeches, Virgil made a\nleech of gold, which he threw into a pit, and so delivered the city\nfrom the infection: that he surrounded his garden with a wall of air,\nwithin which the rain never fell: that he built a bridge of brass that\nwould transport him wherever he pleased: that he made a set of statues,\nwhich were named the salvation of Rome, which had the property that,\nif any one of the subject nations prepared to revolt, the statue,\nwhich bore the name of, and was adored by that nation, rung a bell,\nand pointed with its finger in the direction of the danger: that he\nmade a head, which had the virtue of predicting things future: and\nlastly, amidst a world of other wonders, that he cut a subterranean\npassage through mount Pausilippo, that travellers might pass with\nperfect safety, the mountain having before been so infested with\nserpents and dragons, that no one could venture to cross it.\n\n\nROBERT OF LINCOLN.\n\nThe most eminent person next, after popes Silvester II and Gregory VII,\nwho labours under the imputation of magic, is Robert Grosset\u00eate, or\nRobert of Lincoln, appointed bishop of that see in the year 1235. He\nwas, like those that have previously been mentioned, a man of the most\ntranscendant powers of mind, and extraordinary acquirements. His\nparents are said to have been so poor, that he was compelled, when a\nboy, to engage in the meanest offices for bread, and even to beg on\nthe highway. At length the mayor of Lincoln, struck with his\nappearance, and the quickness of his answers to such questions as were\nproposed to him, took him into his family, and put him to school. Here\nhis ardent love of learning, and admirable capacity for acquiring it,\nsoon procured him many patrons, by whose assistance he was enabled to\nprosecute his studies, first at Cambridge, afterwards at Oxford, and\nfinally at Paris. He was master of the Greek and Hebrew languages,\nthen very rare accomplishments; and is pronounced by Roger Bacon, a\nvery competent judge, of whom we shall presently have occasion to\nspeak, to have spent much of his time, for nearly forty years, in the\nstudy of geometry, astronomy, optics, and other branches of\nmathematical learning, in all of which he much excelled. So that, as\nwe are informed from the same authority, this same Robert of Lincoln,\nand his friend, Friar Adam de Marisco, were the two most learned men\nin the world, and excelled the rest of mankind in both human and\ndivine knowledge.\n\nThis great man especially distinguished himself by his firm and\nundaunted opposition to the corruptions of the court of Rome. Pope\nInnocent IV, who filled the papal chair upwards of eleven years, from\n1243 to 1254, appears to have exceeded all his predecessors in the\nshamelessness of his abuses. We are told, that the hierarchy of the\nchurch of England was overwhelmed like a flood with an inundation of\nforeign dignitaries, of whom not a few were mere boys, for the most\npart without learning, ignorant of the language of the island, and\nincapable of benefiting the people nominally under their care, the\nmore especially as they continued to dwell in their own countries, and\nscarcely once in their lives visited the sees to which they had been\nappointed. [167] Grosset\u00eate lifted up his voice against these scandals.\nHe said that it was impossible the genuine apostolic see, which\nreceived its authority from the Lord Jesus for edification, and not\nfor destruction, could be guilty of such a crime, for that would\nforfeit all its glory, and plunge it into the pains of hell. He did\nnot scruple therefore among his most intimate friends to pronounce the\nreigning pope to be the true Antichrist; and he addressed the pontiff\nhimself in scarcely more measured terms.\n\nAmong the other accomplishments of bishop Grosset\u00eate he is said to\nhave been profoundly skilled in the art of magic: and the old poet\nGower relates of him that he made a head of brass, expressly\nconstructed in such a manner as to be able to answer such questions as\nwere propounded to it, and to foretel future events.\n\n\nMICHAEL SCOT.\n\nMichael Scot of Balwirie in the county of Fife, was nearly contemporary\nwith bishop Grosset\u00eate. He was eminent for his knowledge of the Greek\nand Arabic languages. He was patronised by the emperor Frederic II,\nwho encouraged him to undertake a translation of the works of Aristotle\ninto Latin. He addicted himself to astrology, chemistry, and the still\nmore frivolous sciences of chiromancy and physiognomy. It does not\nappear that he made any pretences to magic; but the vulgar, we are\ntold, generally regarded him as a sorcerer, and are said to have\ncarried their superstition so far as to have conceived a terror of so\nmuch as touching his works.\n\n\nTHE DEAN OF BADAJOZ.\n\nThere is a story related by this accomplished scholar, in a collection\nof aphorisms and anecdotes entitled _Mensa Philosophica_, which\ndeserves to be cited as illustrating the ideas then current on the\nsubject of sorcery. A certain great necromancer, or nigromancer, had\nonce a pupil of considerable rank, who professed himself extremely\ndesirous for once to have the gratification of believing himself an\nemperor. The necromancer, tired with his importunities, at length\nassented to his prayer. He took measures accordingly, and by his\npotent art caused his scholar to believe that one province and dignity\nfell to him after another, till at length his utmost desires became\nsatisfied. The magician however appeared to be still at his elbow; and\none day, when the scholar was in the highest exultation at his good\nfortune, the master humbly requested him to bestow upon him some\nlanded possession, as a reward for the extraordinary benefit he had\nconferred. The imaginary emperor cast upon the necromancer a glance of\nthe utmost disdain and contempt. \"Who are you?\" said he, \"I really\nhave not the smallest acquaintance with you.\" \"I am he,\" replied the\nmagician, with withering severity of countenance and tone, \"that gave\nyou all these things, and will take them away.\" And, saying this, the\nillusion with which the poor scholar had been inebriated, immediately\nvanished; and he became what he had before been, and no more.\n\nThe story thus briefly told by Michael Scot, afterwards passed through\nmany hands, and was greatly dilated. In its last form by the abb\u00e9\nBlanchet, it constituted the well known and agreeable tale of the dean\nof Badajoz. This reverend divine comes to a sorcerer, and intreats a\nspecimen of his art. The magician replies that he had met with so many\nspecimens of ingratitude, that he was resolved to be deluded no more.\nThe dean persists, and at length overcomes the reluctance of the\nmaster. He invites his guest into the parlour, and orders his cook to\nput two partridges to the fire, for that the dean of Badajoz will sup\nwith him. Presently he begins his incantations; and the dean becomes\nin imagination by turns a bishop, a cardinal, and a pope. The magician\nthen claims his reward. Meanwhile the dean, inflated with his supposed\nelevation, turns to his benefactor, and says, \"I have learned with\ngrief that, under pretence of secret science, you correspond with the\nprince of darkness. I command you to repent and abjure; and in the\nmean time I order you to quit the territory of the church in three\ndays, under pain of being delivered to the secular arm, and the rigour\nof the flames.\" The sorcerer, having been thus treated, presently\ndissolves the incantation, and calls aloud to his cook, \"Put down but\none partridge, the dean of Badajoz does not sup with me to-night.\"\n\n\nMIRACLE OF THE TUB OF WATER.\n\nThis story affords an additional example of the affinity between the\nancient Asiatic and European legends, so as to convince us that it is\nnearly impossible that the one should not be in some way borrowed from\nthe other. There is, in a compilation called the Turkish Tales, a\nstory of an infidel sultan of Egypt, who took the liberty before a\nlearned Mahometan doctor, of ridiculing some of the miracles ascribed\nto the prophet, as for example his transportation into the seventh\nheaven, and having ninety thousand conferences with God, while in the\nmean time a pitcher of water, which had been thrown down in the first\nstep of his ascent, was found with the water not all spilled at his\nreturn.\n\nThe doctor, who had the gift of working miracles, told the sultan that,\nwith his consent, he would give him a practical proof of the\npossibility of the circumstance related of Mahomet. The sultan agreed.\nThe doctor therefore directed that a huge tub of water should be\nbrought in, and, while the prince stood before it with his courtiers\naround, the holy man bade him plunge his head into the water, and draw\nit out again. The sultan immersed his head, and had no sooner done so,\nthan he found himself alone at the foot of a mountain on a desert\nshore. The prince first began to rave against the doctor for this\npiece of treachery and witchcraft. Perceiving however that all his\nrage was vain, and submitting himself to the imperiousness of his\nsituation, he began to seek for some habitable tract. By and by he\ndiscovered people cutting down wood in a forest, and, having no remedy,\nhe was glad to have recourse to the same employment. In process of\ntime he was brought to a town; and there by great good fortune, after\nother adventures, he married a woman of beauty and wealth, and lived\nlong enough with her, for her to bear him seven sons and seven\ndaughters. He was afterwards reduced to want, so as to be obliged to\nply in the streets as a porter for his livelihood. One day, as he\nwalked alone on the sea-shore, ruminating on his hard fate, he was\nseized with a fit of devotion, and threw off his clothes, that he\nmight wash himself, agreeably to the Mahometan custom, previously to\nsaying his prayers. He had no sooner however plunged into the sea, and\nraised his head again above water, than he found himself standing by\nthe side of the tub that had been brought in, with all the great\npersons of his court round him, and the holy man close at his side. He\nfound that the long series of imaginary adventures he had passed\nthrough, had in reality occupied but one minute of time.\n\n\nINSTITUTION OF FRIARS.\n\nAbout this time a great revolution took place in the state of\nliterature in Europe. The monks, who at one period considerably\ncontributed to preserve the monuments of ancient learning, memorably\nfell off in reputation and industry. Their communities by the\ndonations of the pious grew wealthy; and the monks themselves\ninhabited splendid palaces, and became luxurious, dissipated and idle.\nUpon the ruins of their good fame rose a very extraordinary race of\nmen, called Friars. The monks professed celibacy, and to have no\nindividual property; but the friars abjured all property, both private\nand in common. They had no place where to lay their heads, and\nsubsisted as mendicants upon the alms of their contemporaries. They\ndid not hide themselves in refectories and dormitories, but lived\nperpetually before the public. In the sequel indeed they built\nFriaries for their residence; but these were no less distinguished for\nthe simplicity and humbleness of their appearance, than the monasteries\nwere for their grandeur and almost regal magnificence. The Friars were\nincessant in preaching and praying, voluntarily exposed themselves to\nthe severest hardships, and were distinguished by a fervour of devotion\nand charitable activity that knew no bounds. We might figure them to\nourselves as swallowed up in these duties. But they added to their\nmerits an incessant earnestness in learning and science. A new era in\nintellect and subtlety of mind began with them; and a set of the most\nwonderful men in depth of application, logical acuteness, and\ndiscoveries in science distinguished this period. They were few indeed,\nin comparison of the world of ignorance that every where surrounded\nthem; but they were for that reason only the more conspicuous. They\ndivided themselves principally into two orders, the Dominicans and\nFranciscans. And all that was most illustrious in intellect at this\nperiod belonged either to the one or the other.\n\n\nALBERTUS MAGNUS.\n\nAlbertus Magnus, a Dominican, was one of the most famous of these. He\nwas born according to some accounts in the year 1193, and according to\nothers in 1205. It is reported of him, that he was naturally very dull,\nand so incapable of instruction, that he was on the point of quitting\nthe cloister from despair of learning what his vocation required, when\nthe blessed virgin appeared to him in a vision, and enquired of him in\nwhich he desired to excel, philosophy or divinity. He chose philosophy;\nand the virgin assured him that he should become incomparable in that,\nbut, as a punishment for not having chosen divinity, he should sink,\nbefore he died, into his former stupidity. It is added that, after\nthis apparition, he had an infinite deal of wit, and advanced in\nscience with so rapid a progress as utterly to astonish the masters.\nHe afterwards became bishop of Ratisbon.\n\nIt is related of Albertus, that he made an entire man of brass,\nputting together its limbs under various constellations, and occupying\nno less than thirty years in its formation. This man would answer all\nsorts of questions, and was even employed by its maker as a domestic.\nBut what is more extraordinary, this machine is said to have become at\nlength so garrulous, that Thomas Aquinas, being a pupil of Albertus,\nand finding himself perpetually disturbed in his abstrusest\nspeculations by its uncontrolable loquacity, in a rage caught up a\nhammer, and beat it to pieces. According to other accounts the man of\nAlbertus Magnus was composed, not of metal, but of flesh and bones\nlike other men; but this being afterwards judged to be impossible, and\nthe virtue of images, rings, and planetary sigils being in great vogue,\nit was conceived that this figure was formed of brass, and indebted\nfor its virtue to certain conjunctions and aspects of the planets.\n[168]\n\nA further extraordinary story is told of Albertus Magnus, well\ncalculated to exemplify the ideas of magic with which these ages\nabounded. William, earl of Holland, and king of the Romans, was\nexpected at a certain time to pass through Cologne. Albertus had set\nhis heart upon obtaining from this prince the cession of a certain\ntract of land upon which to erect a convent. The better to succeed in\nhis application he conceived the following scheme. He invited the\nprince on his journey to partake of a magnificent entertainment. To\nthe surprise of every body, when the prince arrived, he found the\npreparations for the banquet spread in the open air. It was in the\ndepth of winter, when the earth was bound up in frost, and the whole\nface of things was covered with snow. The attendants of the court were\nmortified, and began to express their discontent in loud murmurs. No\nsooner however was the king with Albertus and his courtiers seated at\ntable, than the snow instantly disappeared, the temperature of summer\nshewed itself, and the sun burst forth with a dazzling splendour. The\nground became covered with the richest verdure; the trees were clothed\nat once with foliage, flowers and fruits: and a vintage of the richest\ngrapes, accompanied with a ravishing odour, invited the spectators to\npartake. A thousand birds sang on every branch. A train of pages\nshewed themselves, fresh and graceful in person and attire, and were\nready diligently to supply the wants of all, while every one was\nstruck with astonishment as to who they were and from whence they came.\nThe guests were obliged to throw off their upper garments the better\nto cool themselves. The whole assembly was delighted with their\nentertainment, and Albertus easily gained his suit of the king.\nPresently after, the banquet disappeared; all was wintry and solitary\nas before; the snow lay thick upon the ground; and the guests in all\nhaste snatched up the garments they had laid aside, and hurried into\nthe apartments, that by numerous fires on the blazing hearth they\nmight counteract the dangerous chill which threatened to seize on\ntheir limbs. [169]\n\n\nROGER BACON.\n\nRoger Bacon, of whom extraordinary stories of magic have been told,\nand who was about twenty years younger than Albertus, was one of the\nrarest geniuses that have existed on earth. He was a Franciscan friar.\nHe wrote grammars of the Latin, Greek and Hebrew languages. He was\nprofound in the science of optics. He explained the nature of\nburning-glasses, and of glasses which magnify and diminish, the\nmicroscope and the telescope. He discovered the composition of\ngunpowder. He ascertained the true length of the solar year; and his\ntheory was afterwards brought into general use, but upon a narrow\nscale, by Pope Gregory XIII, nearly three hundred years after his\ndeath. [170]\n\nBut for all these discoveries he underwent a series of the most bitter\npersecutions. It was imputed to him by the superiors of his order that\nthe improvements he suggested in natural philosophy were the effects\nof magic, and were suggested to him through an intercourse with\ninfernal spirits. They forbade him to communicate any of his\nspeculations. They wasted his frame with rigorous fasting, often\nrestricting him to a diet of bread and water, and prohibited all\nstrangers to have access to him. Yet he went on indefatigably in\npursuit of the secrets of nature. [171] At length Clement IV, to whom\nhe appealed, procured him a considerable degree of liberty. But, after\nthe death of that pontiff, he was again put under confinement, and\ncontinued in that state for a further period of ten years. He was\nliberated but a short time before his death.\n\nFreind says, [172] that, among other ingenious contrivances, he put\nstatues in motion, and drew articulate sounds from a brazen head, not\nhowever by magic, but by an artificial application of the principles\nof natural philosophy.   This probably furnished a foundation for the\ntale of Friar Bacon and Friar Bungy, which was one of the earliest\nproductions to which the art of printing was applied in England. These\ntwo persons are said to have entertained the project of inclosing\nEngland with a wall, so as to render it inaccessible to any invader.\nThey accordingly raised the devil, as the person best able to inform\nthem how this was to be done. The devil advised them to make a brazen\nhead, with all the internal structure and organs of a human head. The\nconstruction would cost them much time; and they must then wait with\npatience till the faculty of speech descended upon it. It would\nfinally however become an oracle, and, if the question were propounded\nto it, would teach them the solution of their problem. The friars\nspent seven years in bringing the structure to perfection, and then\nwaited day after day, in expectation that it would utter articulate\nsounds. At length nature became exhausted in them, and they lay down\nto sleep, having first given it strictly in charge to a servant of\ntheirs, clownish in nature, but of strict fidelity, that he should\nawaken them the moment the image began to speak. That period arrived.\nThe head uttered sounds, but such as the clown judged unworthy of\nnotice. \"Time is!\" it said. No notice was taken; and a long pause\nensued. \"Time was!\" A similar pause, and no notice. \"Time is passed!\"\nAnd the moment these words were uttered, a tremendous storm ensued,\nwith thunder and lightning, and the head was shivered into a thousand\npieces. Thus the experiment of friar Bacon and friar Bungy came to\nnothing.\n\n\nTHOMAS AQUINAS.\n\nThomas Aquinas, who has likewise been brought under the imputation of\nmagic, was one of the profoundest scholars and subtlest logicians of\nhis day. He also furnishes a remarkable instance of the ascendant\nwhich the friars at that time obtained over the minds of ingenuous\nyoung men smitten with the thirst of knowledge. He was a youth of\nillustrious birth, and received the rudiments of his education under\nthe monks of Monte Cassino, and in the university of Naples. But, not\ncontented with these advantages, he secretly entered himself into the\nsociety of Preaching Friars, or Dominicans, at seventeen years of age.\nHis mother, being indignant that he should thus take the vow of\npoverty, and sequester himself from the world for life, employed every\nmeans in her power to induce him to alter his purpose, but in vain.\nThe friars, to deliver him from her importunities, removed him from\nNaples to Terracina, from Terracina to Anagnia, and from Anagnia to\nRome. His mother followed him in all these changes of residence, but\nwas not permitted so much as to see him. At length she spirited up his\ntwo elder brothers to seize him by force. They waylaid him in his road\nto Paris, whither he was sent to complete his course of instruction,\nand carried him off to the castle of Aquino where he had been born.\nHere he was confined for two years; but he found a way to correspond\nwith the superiors of his order, and finally escaped from a window in\nthe castle. St. Thomas Aquinas (for he was canonised after his death)\nexceeded perhaps all men that ever existed in the severity and\nstrictness of his metaphysical disquisitions, and thus acquired the\nname of the Seraphic Doctor.\n\nIt was to be expected that a man, who thus immersed himself in the\ndepths of thought, should be an inexorable enemy to noise and\ninterruption. We have seen that he dashed to pieces the artificial man\nof brass, that Albertus Magnus, who was his tutor, had spent thirty\nyears in bringing to perfection, being impelled to this violence by\nits perpetual and unceasing garrulity. [173] It is further said, that\nhis study being placed in a great thoroughfare, where the grooms were\nall day long exercising their horses, he found it necessary to apply a\nremedy to this nuisance. He made by the laws of magic a small horse of\nbrass, which he buried two or three feet under ground in the midst of\nthis highway; and, having done so, no horse would any longer pass\nalong the road. It was in vain that the grooms with whip and spur\nsought to conquer their repugnance. They were finally compelled to\ngive up the attempt, and to choose another place for their daily\nexercise. [174]\n\nIt has further been sought to fix the imputation of magic upon Thomas\nAquinas by imputing to him certain books written on that science; but\nthese are now acknowledged to be spurious. [175]\n\n\nPETER OF APONO.\n\nPeter of Apono, so called from a village of that name in the vicinity\nof Padua, where he was born in the year 1250, was an eminent\nphilosopher, mathematician and astrologer, but especially excelled in\nphysic. Finding that science at a low ebb in his native country, he\nresorted to Paris, where it especially flourished; and after a time\nreturning home, exercised his art with extraordinary success, and by\nthis means accumulated great wealth.\n\nBut all his fame and attainments were poisoned to him by the accusation\nof magic. Among other things he was said to possess seven spirits,\neach of them inclosed in a crystal vessel, from whom he received every\ninformation he desired in the seven liberal arts. He was further\nreported to have had the extraordinary faculty of causing the money he\nexpended in his disbursements, immediately to come back into his own\npurse. He was besides of a hasty and revengeful temper. In consequence\nof this it happened to him, that, having a neighbour, who had an\nadmirable spring of water in his garden, and who was accustomed to\nsuffer the physician to send for a daily supply, but who for some\ndispleasure or inconvenience withdrew his permission, Peter d'Apono,\nby the aid of the devil, removed the spring from the garden in which\nit had flowed, and turned it to waste in the public street. For some\nof these accusations he was called to account by the tribunal of the\ninquisition. While he was upon his trial however, the unfortunate man\ndied. But so unfavourable was the judgment of the inquisitors\nrespecting him, that they decreed that his bones should be dug up, and\npublicly burned. Some of his friends got intimation of this, and saved\nhim from the impending disgrace by removing his remains. Disappointed\nin this, the inquisitors proceeded to burn him in effigy.\n\n\nENGLISH LAW OF HIGH TREASON.\n\nIt may seem strange that in a treatise concerning necromancy we should\nhave occasion to speak of the English law of high treason. But on\nreflection perhaps it may appear not altogether alien to the subject.\nThis crime is ordinarily considered by our lawyers as limited and\ndefined by the statute of 25 Edward III. As Blackstone has observed,\n\"By the ancient common law there was a great latitude left in the\nbreast of the judges, to determine what was treason, or not so:\nwhereby the creatures of tyrannical power had opportunity to create\nabundance of constructive treasons; that is, to raise, by forced and\narbitrary constructions, offences into the crime and punishment of\ntreason, which were never suspected to be such. To prevent these\ninconveniences, the statute of 25 Edward III was made.\" [176] This\nstatute divides treason into seven distinct branches; and the first\nand chief of these is, \"when a man doth compass or imagine the death\nof our lord the king.\"\n\nNow the first circumstance that strikes us in this affair is, why the\ncrime was not expressed in more perspicuous and appropriate language?\nWhy, for example, was it not said, that the first and chief branch of\ntreason was to \"kill the king?\" Or, if that limitation was not held to\nbe sufficiently ample, could it not have been added, it is treason to\n\"attempt, intend, or contrive to kill the king?\" We are apt to make\nmuch too large an allowance for what is considered as the vague and\nobsolete language of our ancestors. Logic was the element in which the\nscholars of what are called the dark ages were especially at home. It\nwas at that period that the description of human geniuses, called the\nSchoolmen, principally flourished. The writers who preceded the\nChristian era, possessed in an extraordinary degree the gift of\nimagination and invention. But they had little to boast on the score\nof arrangement, and discovered little skill in the strictness of an\naccurate deduction. Meanwhile the Schoolmen had a surprising subtlety\nin weaving the web of an argument, and arriving by a close deduction,\nthrough a multitude of steps, to a sound and irresistible conclusion.\nOur lawyers to a certain degree formed themselves on the discipline of\nthe Schoolmen. Nothing can be more forcibly contrasted, than the mode\nof pleading among the ancients, and that which has characterised the\nprocesses of the moderns. The pleadings of the ancients were praxises\nof the art of oratorical persuasion; the pleadings of the moderns\nsometimes, though rarely, deviate into oratory, but principally\nconsist in dextrous subtleties upon words, or a nice series of\ndeductions, the whole contexture of which is endeavoured to be woven\ninto one indissoluble substance. Several striking examples have been\npreserved of the mode of pleading in the reign of Edward II, in which\nthe exceptions taken for the defendant, and the replies supporting the\nmode of proceeding on behalf of the plaintiff, in no respect fall\nshort of the most admired shifts, quirks and subtleties of the great\nlawyers of later times. [177]\n\nIt would be certainly wrong therefore to consider the legal phrase, to\n\"compass or imagine the death of the king,\" as meaning the same thing\nas to \"kill, or intend to kill\" him. At all events we may take it for\ngranted, that to \"compass\" does not mean to accomplish; but rather to\n\"take in hand, to go about to effect.\" There is therefore no form of\nwords here forbidding to \"kill the king.\" The phrase, to \"imagine,\"\ndoes not appear less startling. What is, to a proverb, more lawless\nthan imagination?\n\n  Evil into the mind of God or man\n  May come and go, so unapproved, and leave\n  No spot or blame behind.\n\nWhat can be more tyrannical, than an inquisition into the sports and\nfreaks of fancy? What more unsusceptible of detection or evidence? How\nmany imperceptible shades of distinction between the guilt and\ninnocence that characterise them!--Meanwhile the force and propriety\nof these terms will strikingly appear, if we refer them to the popular\nideas of witchcraft. Witches were understood to have the power of\ndestroying life, without the necessity of approaching the person whose\nlife was to be destroyed, or producing any consciousness in him of the\ncrime about to be perpetrated. One method was by exposing an image of\nwax to the action of fire; while, in proportion as the image wasted\naway, the life of the individual who was the object contrived against,\nwas undermined and destroyed. Another was by incantations and spells.\nEither of these might fitly be called the \"compassing or imagining the\ndeath.\" Imagination is, beside this, the peculiar province of\nwitchcraft. And in these pretended hags the faculty is no longer\ndesultory and erratic. Conscious of their power, they are supposed to\nhave subjected it to system and discipline. They apply its secret and\ntrackless energy with an intentness and a vigour, which ordinary\nmortals may in vain attempt to emulate in an application of the force\nof inert matter, or of the different physical powers by means of which\nsuch stupendous effects have often been produced.--How universal and\nfamiliar then must we consider the ideas of witchcraft to have been\nbefore language which properly describes the secret practices of such\npersons, and is not appropriate to any other, could have been found to\ninsinuate itself into the structure of the most solemn act of our\nlegislature, that act which beyond all others was intended to narrow\nor shut out the subtle and dangerous inroads of arbitrary power!\n\n\nZIITO.\n\nVery extraordinary things are related of Ziito, a sorcerer, in the\ncourt of Wenceslaus, king of Bohemia and afterwards emperor of Germany,\nin the latter part of the fourteenth century. This is perhaps, all\nthings considered, the most wonderful specimen of magical power any\nwhere to be found. It is gravely recorded by Dubravius, bishop of\nOlmutz, in his History of Bohemia. It was publicly exhibited on\noccasion of the marriage of Wenceslaus with Sophia, daughter of the\nelector Palatine of Bavaria, before a vast assembled multitude.\n\nThe father-in-law of the king, well aware of the bridegroom's known\npredilection for theatrical exhibitions and magical illusions, brought\nwith him to Prague, the capital of Wenceslaus, a whole waggon-load of\nmorrice-dancers and jugglers, who made their appearance among the\nroyal retinue. Meanwhile Ziito, the favourite magician of the king,\ntook his place obscurely among the ordinary spectators. He however\nimmediately arrested the attention of the strangers, being remarked\nfor his extraordinary deformity, and a mouth that stretched completely\nfrom ear to ear. Ziito was for some time engaged in quietly observing\nthe tricks and sleights that were exhibited. At length, while the\nchief magician of the elector Palatine was still busily employed in\nshewing some of the most admired specimens of his art, the Bohemian,\nindignant at what appeared to him the bungling exhibitions of his\nbrother-artist, came forward, and reproached him with the unskilfulness\nof his performances. The two professors presently fell into warm\ndebate. Ziito, provoked at the insolence of his rival, made no more\nado but swallowed him whole before the multitude, attired as he was,\nall but his shoes, which he objected to because they were dirty. He\nthen retired for a short while to a closet, and presently returned,\nleading the magician along with him.\n\nHaving thus disposed of his rival, Ziito proceeded to exhibit the\nwonders of his art. He shewed himself first in his proper shape, and\nthen in those of different persons successively, with countenances and\na stature totally dissimilar to his own; at one time splendidly\nattired in robes of purple and silk, and then in the twinkling of an\neye in coarse linen and a clownish coat of frieze. He would proceed\nalong the field with a smooth and undulating motion without changing\nthe posture of a limb, for all the world as if he were carried along\nin a ship. He would keep pace with the king's chariot, in a car drawn\nby barn-door fowls. He also amused the king's guests as they sat at\ntable, by causing, when they stretched out their hands to the different\ndishes, sometimes their hands to turn into the cloven feet of an ox,\nand at other times into the hoofs of a horse. He would clap on them\nthe antlers of a deer, so that, when they put their heads out at\nwindow to see some sight that was going by, they could by no means\ndraw them back again; while he in the mean time feasted on the savoury\ncates that had been spread before them, at his leisure.\n\nAt one time he pretended to be in want of money, and to task his wits\nto devise the means to procure it. On such an occasion he took up a\nhandful of grains of corn, and presently gave them the form and\nappearance of thirty hogs well fatted for the market. He drove these\nhogs to the residence of one Michael, a rich dealer, but who was\nremarked for being penurious and thrifty in his bargains. He offered\nthem to Michael for whatever price he should judge reasonable. The\nbargain was presently struck, Ziito at the same time warning the\npurchaser, that he should on no account drive them to the river to\ndrink. Michael however paid no attention to this advice; and the hogs\nno sooner arrived at the river, than they turned into grains of corn\nas before. The dealer, greatly enraged at this trick, sought high and\nlow for the seller that he might be revenged on him. At length he\nfound him in a vintner's shop seemingly in a gloomy and absent frame\nof mind, reposing himself, with his legs stretched out on a form. The\ndealer called out to him, but he seemed not to hear. Finally he seized\nZiito by one foot, plucking at it with all his might. The foot came\naway with the leg and thigh; and Ziito screamed out, apparently in\ngreat agony. He seized Michael by the nape of the neck, and dragged\nhim before a judge. Here the two set up their separate complaints,\nMichael for the fraud that had been committed on him, and Ziito for\nthe irreparable injury he had suffered in his person. From this\nadventure came the proverb, frequent in the days of the historian,\nspeaking of a person who had made an improvident bargain, \"He has made\njust such a purchase as Michael did with his hogs.\"\n\n\nTRANSMUTATION OF METALS.\n\nAmong the different pursuits, which engaged the curiosity of active\nminds in these unenlightened ages, was that of the transmutation of\nthe more ordinary metals into gold and silver. This art, though not\nproperly of necromantic nature, was however elevated by its professors,\nby means of an imaginary connection between it and astrology, and even\nbetween it and an intercourse with invisible spirits. They believed,\nthat their investigations could not be successfully prosecuted but\nunder favourable aspects of the planets, and that it was even\nindispensible to them to obtain supernatural aid.\n\nIn proportion as the pursuit of transmutation, and the search after\nthe elixir of immortality grew into vogue, the adepts became desirous\nof investing them with the venerable garb of antiquity. They\nendeavoured to carry up the study to the time of Solomon; and there\nwere not wanting some who imputed it to the first father of mankind.\nThey were desirous to track its footsteps in Ancient Egypt; and they\nfound a mythological representation of it in the expedition of Jason\nafter the golden fleece, and in the cauldron by which Medea restored\nthe father of Jason to his original youth. [178] But, as has already\nbeen said, the first unquestionable mention of the subject is to be\nreferred to the time of Dioclesian. [179] From that period traces of\nthe studies of the alchemists from time to time regularly discover\nthemselves.\n\nThe study of chemistry and its supposed invaluable results was\nassiduously cultivated by Geber and the Arabians.\n\n\nARTEPHIUS.\n\nArtephius is one of the earliest names that occur among the students\nwho sought the philosopher's stone. Of him extraordinary things are\ntold. He lived about the year 1130, and wrote a book of the Art of\nProlonging Human Life, in which he professes to have already attained\nthe age of one thousand and twenty-five years. [180] He must by this\naccount have been born about one hundred years after our Saviour. He\nprofessed to have visited the infernal regions, and there to have seen\nTantalus seated on a throne of gold. He is also said by some to be the\nsame person, whose life has been written by Philostratus under the\nname of Apollonius of Tyana. [181] He wrote a book on the philosopher's\nstone, which was published in Latin and French at Paris in the year\n1612.\n\n\nRAYMOND LULLI.\n\nAmong the European students of these interesting secrets a foremost\nplace is to be assigned to Raymond Lulli and Arnold of Villeneuve.\n\nLulli was undoubtedly a man endowed in a very eminent degree with the\npowers of intellect. He was a native of the island of Majorca, and was\nborn in the year 1234. He is said to have passed his early years in\nprofligacy and dissipation, but to have been reclaimed by the accident\nof falling in love with a young woman afflicted with a cancer. This\ncircumstance induced him to apply himself intently to the study of\nchemistry and medicine, with a view to discover a cure for her\ncomplaint, in which he succeeded. He afterwards entered into the\ncommunity of Franciscan friars.\n\nEdward the First was one of the most extraordinary princes that ever\nsat on a throne. He revived the study of the Roman civil law with such\nsuccess as to have merited the title of the English Justinian. He was\nno less distinguished as the patron of arts and letters. He invited to\nEngland Guido dalla Colonna, the author of the Troy Book, and Raymond\nLulli. This latter was believed in his time to have prosecuted his\nstudies with such success as to have discovered the _elixir vitae_,\nby means of which he could keep off the assaults of old age, at least\nfor centuries, and the philosopher's stone. He is affirmed by these\nmeans to have supplied to Edward the First six millions of money, to\nenable him to carry on war against the Turks.\n\nBut he was not only indefatigable in the pursuit of natural science.\nHe was also seized with an invincible desire to convert the Mahometans\nto the Christian faith. For this purpose he entered earnestly upon the\nstudy of the Oriental languages. He endeavoured to prevail on different\nprinces of Europe to concur in his plan, and to erect colleges for the\npurpose, but without success. He at length set out alone upon his\nenterprise, but met with small encouragement. He penetrated into\nAfrica and Asia. He made few converts, and was with difficulty suffered\nto depart, under a solemn injunction that he should not return. But\nLulli chose to obey God rather than man, and ventured a second time.\nThe Mahometans became exasperated with his obstinacy, and are said to\nhave stoned him to death at the age of eighty years. His body was\nhowever transported to his native place; and miracles are reported to\nhave been worked at his tomb. [182]\n\nRaymond Lulli is beside famous for what he was pleased to style his\nGreat Art. The ordinary accounts however that are given of this art\nassume a style of burlesque, rather than of philosophy. He is said to\nhave boasted that by means of it he could enable any one to argue\nlogically on any subject for a whole day together, independently of\nany previous study of the subject in debate. To the details of the\nprocess Swift seems to have been indebted for one of the humorous\nprojects described by him in his voyage to Laputa. Lulli recommended\nthat certain general terms of logic, metaphysics, ethics or theology\nshould first be collected. These were to be inscribed separately upon\nsquare pieces of parchment. They were then to be placed on a frame so\nconstructed that by turning a handle they might revolve freely, and\nform endless combinations. One term would stand for a subject, and\nanother for a predicate. The student was then diligently to inspect\nthe different combinations that fortuitously arose, and exercising the\nsubtlety of his faculties to select such as he should find best\ncalculated for his purposes. He would thus carry on the process of his\ndebate; and an extraordinary felicity would occasionally arise,\nsuggesting the most ingenious hints, and leading on to the most\nimportant discoveries. [183]--If a man with the eminent faculties\nwhich Lulli otherwise appeared to have possessed really laid down the\nrules of such an art, all he intended by it must have been to satirize\nthe gravity with which the learned doctors of his time carried on\ntheir grave disputations in mood and figure, having regard only to the\nseverity of the rule by which they debated, and holding themselves\ntotally indifferent whether they made any real advances in the\ndiscovery of truth.\n\n\nARNOLD OF VILLENEUVE.\n\nArnold of Villeneuve, who lived about the same time, was a man of\neminent attainments. He made a great proficiency in Greek, Hebrew, and\nArabic. He devoted himself in a high degree to astrology, and was so\nconfident in his art, as to venture to predict that the end of the\nworld would occur in a few years; but he lived to witness the\nfallaciousness of his prophecy. He had much reputation as a physician.\nHe appears to have been a bold thinker. He maintained that deeds of\ncharity were of more avail than the sacrifice of the mass, and that no\none would be damned hereafter, but such as were proved to afford an\nexample of immoral conduct. Like all the men of these times who were\ndistinguished by the profoundness of their studies, he was accused of\nmagic. For this, or upon a charge of heresy, he was brought under the\nprosecution of the inquisition. But he was alarmed by the fate of\nPeter of Apono, and by recantation or some other mode of prudent\ncontrivance was fortunate enough to escape. He is one of the persons\nto whom the writing of the book, _De Tribus Impostoribus_, Of the\nThree Impostors (Moses, Jesus Christ and Mahomet) was imputed! [184]\n\n\nENGLISH LAWS RESPECTING TRANSMUTATION.\n\nSo great an alarm was conceived about this time respecting the art of\ntransmutation, that an act of parliament was passed in the fifth year\nof Henry IV, 1404, which lord Coke states as the shortest of our\nstatutes, determining that the making of gold or silver shall be\ndeemed felony. This law is said to have resulted from the fear at that\ntime entertained by the houses of lords and commons, lest the\nexecutive power, finding itself by these means enabled to increase the\nrevenue of the crown to any degree it pleased, should disdain to ask\naid from the legislature; and in consequence should degenerate into\ntyranny and arbitrary power. [185]\n\nGeorge Ripley, of Ripley in the county of York, is mentioned, towards\nthe latter part of the fifteenth century, as having discovered the\nphilosopher's stone, and by its means contributed one hundred thousand\npounds to the knights of Rhodes, the better to enable them to carry on\ntheir war against the Turks. [186]\n\nAbout this time however the tide appears to have turned, and the alarm\nrespecting the multiplication of the precious metals so greatly to\nhave abated, that patents were issued in the thirty-fifth year of\nHenry VI, for the encouragement of such as were disposed to seek the\nuniversal medicine, and to endeavour the transmutation of inferior\nmetals into gold. [187]\n\n\n\n\nREVIVAL OF LETTERS.\n\n\nWhile these things were going on in Europe, the period was gradually\napproaching, when the energies of the human mind were to loosen its\nshackles, and its independence was ultimately to extinguish those\ndelusions and that superstition which had so long enslaved it.\nPetrarch, born in the year 1304, was deeply impregnated with a passion\nfor classical lore, was smitten with the love of republican\ninstitutions, and especially distinguished himself for an adoration of\nHomer. Dante, a more sublime and original genius than Petrarch, was\nhis contemporary. About the same time Boccaccio in his Decamerone gave\nat once to Italian prose that purity and grace, which none of his\nsuccessors in the career of literature have ever been able to excel.\nAnd in our own island Chaucer with a daring hand redeemed his native\ntongue from the disuse and ignominy into which it had fallen, and\npoured out the immortal strains that the genuine lovers of the English\ntongue have ever since perused with delight, while those who are\ndiscouraged by its apparent crabbedness, have yet grown familiar with\nhis thoughts in the smoother and more modern versification of Dryden\nand Pope. From that time the principles of true taste have been more\nor less cultivated, while with equal career independence of thought\nand an ardent spirit of discovery have continually proceeded, and made\na rapid advance towards the perfect day.\n\nBut the dawn of literature and intellectual freedom were still a long\ntime ere they produced their full effect. The remnant of the old woman\nclung to the heart with a tenacious embrace. Three or four centuries\nelapsed, while yet the belief in sorcery and witchcraft was alive in\ncertain classes of society. And then, as is apt to occur in such cases,\nthe expiring folly occasionally gave tokens of its existence with a\nconvulsive vehemence, and became only the more picturesque and\nimpressive through the strong contrast of lights and shadows that\nattended its manifestations.\n\n\nJOAN OF ARC.\n\nOne of the most memorable stories on record is that of Joan of Arc,\ncommonly called the Maid of Orleans. Henry the Fifth of England won\nthe decisive battle of Agincourt in the year 1415, and some time after\nconcluded a treaty with the reigning king of France, by which he was\nrecognised, in case of that king's death, as heir to the throne.\nHenry V died in the year 1422, and Charles VI of France in less than\ntwo months after. Henry VI was only nine months old at the time of his\nfather's death; but such was the deplorable state of France, that he\nwas in the same year proclaimed king in Paris, and for some years\nseemed to have every prospect of a fortunate reign. John duke of\nBedford, the king's uncle, was declared regent of France: the son of\nCharles VI was reduced to the last extremity; Orleans was the last\nstrong town in the heart of the kingdom which held out in his favour;\nand that place seemed on the point to surrender to the conqueror.\n\nIn this fearful crisis appeared Joan of Arc, and in the most incredible\nmanner turned the whole tide of affairs. She was a servant in a poor\ninn at Domremi, and was accustomed to perform the coarsest offices,\nand in particular to ride the horses to a neighbouring stream to water.\nOf course the situation of France and her hereditary king formed the\nuniversal subject of conversation; and Joan became deeply impressed\nwith the lamentable state of her country and the misfortunes of her\nking. By dint of perpetual meditation, and feeling in her breast the\npromptings of energy and enterprise, she conceived the idea that she\nwas destined by heaven to be the deliverer of France. Agreeably to the\nstate of intellectual knowledge at that period, she persuaded herself\nthat she saw visions, and held communication with the saints. She had\nconversations with St. Margaret, and St. Catherine of Fierbois. They\ntold her that she was commissioned by God to raise the siege of\nOrleans, and to conduct Charles VII to his coronation at Rheims. St.\nCatherine commanded her to demand a sword which was in her church at\nFierbois, which the Maid described by particular tokens, though she\nhad never seen it. She then presented herself to Baudricourt, governor\nof the neighbouring town of Vaucouleurs, telling him her commission,\nand requiring him to send her to the king at Chinon. Baudricourt at\nfirst made light of her application; but her importunity and the\nardour she expressed at length excited him. He put on her a man's\nattire, gave her arms, and sent her under an escort of two gentlemen\nand their attendants to Chinon. Here she immediately addressed the\nking in person, who had purposely hid himself behind his courtiers\nthat she might not know him. She then delivered her message, and\noffered in the name of the Most High to raise the siege of Orleans,\nand conduct king Charles to Rheims to be anointed. As a further\nconfirmation she is said to have revealed to the king before a few\nselect friends, a secret, which nothing but divine inspiration could\nhave discovered to her.\n\nDesperate as was then the state of affairs, Charles and his ministers\nimmediately resolved to seize the occasion that offered, and put\nforward Joan as an instrument to revive the prostrate courage of his\nsubjects. He had no sooner determined on this, than he pretended to\nsubmit the truth of her mission to the most rigorous trial. He called\ntogether an assembly of theologians and doctors, who rigorously\nexamined Joan, and pronounced in her favour. He referred the question\nto the parliament of Poitiers; and they, who met persuaded that she\nwas an impostor, became convinced of her inspiration. She was mounted\non a high-bred steed, furnished with a consecrated banner, and marched,\nescorted by a body of five thousand men, to the relief of Orleans. The\nFrench, strongly convinced by so plain an interposition of heaven,\nresumed the courage to which they had long been strangers. Such a\nphenomenon was exactly suited to the superstition and credulity of the\nage. The English were staggered with the rumours that every where went\nbefore her, and struck with a degree of apprehension and terror that\nthey could not shake off. The garrison, informed of her approach, made\na sally on the other side of the town; and Joan and her convoy entered\nwithout opposition. She displayed her standard in the market-place,\nand was received as a celestial deliverer.\n\nShe appears to have been endowed with a prudence, not inferior to her\ncourage and spirit of enterprise. With great docility she caught the\nhints of the commanders by whom she was surrounded; and, convinced of\nher own want of experience and skill, delivered them to the forces as\nthe dictates of heaven. Thus the knowledge and discernment of the\ngenerals were brought into play, at the same time that their\nsuggestions acquired new weight, when falling from the lips of the\nheaven-instructed heroine. A second convoy arrived; the waggons and\ntroops passed between the redoubts of the English; while a dead\nsilence and astonishment reigned among the forces, so lately\nenterprising and resistless. Joan now called on the garrison no longer\nto stand upon the defensive, but boldly to attack the army of the\nbesiegers. She took one redoubt and then another. The English,\noverwhelmed with amazement, scarcely dared to lift a hand against her.\nTheir veteran generals became spell-bound and powerless; and their\nsoldiers were driven before the prophetess like a flock of sheep. The\nsiege was raised.\n\nJoan followed the English garrison to a fortified town which they\nfixed on as their place of retreat. The siege lasted ten days; the\nplace was taken; and all the English within it made prisoners. The\nlate victorious forces now concentred themselves at Patay in the\nOrleanois; Joan advanced to meet them. The battle lasted not a moment;\nit was rather a flight than a combat; Fastolfe, one of the bravest of\nour commanders, threw down his arms, and ran for his life; Talbot and\nScales, the other generals, were made prisoners. The siege of Orleans\nwas raised on the eighth of May, 1429; the battle of Patay was fought\non the tenth of the following month. Joan was at this time twenty-two\nyears of age.\n\nThis extraordinary turn having been given to the affairs of the\nkingdom, Joan next insisted that the king should march to Rheims, in\norder to his being crowned. Rheims lay in a direction expressly\nthrough the midst of the enemies' garrisons. But every thing yielded\nto the marvellous fortune that attended upon the heroine. Troyes\nopened its gates; Chalons followed the example; Rheims sent a\ndeputation with the keys of the city, which met Charles on his march.\nThe proposed solemnity took place amidst the extacies and enthusiastic\nshouts of his people. It was no sooner over, than Joan stept forward.\nShe said, she had now performed the whole of what God had commissioned\nher to do; she was satisfied; she intreated the king to dismiss her to\nthe obscurity from which she had sprung.\n\nThe ministers and generals of France however found Joan too useful an\ninstrument, to be willing to part with her thus early; and she yielded\nto their earnest expostulations. Under her guidance they assailed Laon,\nSoissons, Chateau Thierry, Provins, and many other places, and took\nthem one after another. She threw herself into Compiegne, which was\nbesieged by the Duke of Burgundy in conjunction with certain English\ncommanders. The day after her arrival she headed a sally against the\nenemy; twice she repelled them; but, finding their numbers increase\nevery moment with fresh reinforcements, she directed a retreat. Twice\nshe returned upon her pursuers, and made them recoil, the third time\nshe was less fortunate. She found herself alone, surrounded with the\nenemy; and after having enacted prodigies of valour, she was compelled\nto surrender a prisoner. This happened on the twenty-fifth of May,\n1430.\n\nIt remained to be determined what should be the fate of this admirable\nwoman. Both friends and enemies agreed that her career had been\nattended with a supernatural power. The French, who were so infinitely\nindebted to her achievements, and who owed the sudden and glorious\nreverse of their affairs to her alone, were convinced that she was\nimmediately commissioned by God, and vied with each other in reciting\nthe miraculous phenomena which marked every step in her progress. The\nEnglish, who saw all the victorious acquisitions of Henry V crumbling\nfrom their grasp, were equally impressed with the manifest miracle,\nbut imputed all her good-fortune to a league with the prince of\ndarkness. They said that her boasted visions were so many delusions of\nthe devil. They determined to bring her to trial for the tremendous\ncrimes of sorcery and witchcraft. They believed that, if she were once\nconvicted and led out to execution, the prowess and valour which had\nhitherto marked their progress would return to them, and that they\nshould obtain the same superiority over their disheartened foes. The\ndevil, who had hitherto been her constant ally, terrified at the\nspectacle of the flames that consumed her, would instantly return to\nthe infernal regions, and leave the field open to English enterprise\nand energy, and to the interposition of God and his saints.\n\nAn accusation was prepared against her, and all the solemnities of a\npublic trial were observed. But the proofs were so weak and\nunsatisfactory, and Joan, though oppressed and treated with the utmost\nseverity, displayed so much acuteness and presence of mind, that the\ncourt, not venturing to proceed to the last extremity, contented\nthemselves with sentencing her to perpetual imprisonment, and to be\nallowed no other nourishment than bread and water for life. Before\nthey yielded to this mitigation of punishment, they caused her to sign\nwith her mark a recantation of her offences. She acknowledged that the\nenthusiasm that had guided her was an illusion, and promised never\nmore to listen to its suggestions.\n\nThe hatred of her enemies however was not yet appeased. They\ndetermined in some way to entrap her. They had clothed her in a female\ngarb; they insidiously laid in her way the habiliments of a man. The\nfire smothered in the bosom of the maid, revived at the sight; she was\nalone; she caught up the garments, and one by one adjusted them to her\nperson. Spies were set upon her to watch for this event; they burst\ninto the apartment. What she had done was construed into no less\noffence than that of a relapsed heretic; there was no more pardon for\nsuch confirmed delinquency; she was brought out to be burned alive in\nthe market-place of Rouen, and she died, embracing a crucifix, and in\nher last moments calling upon the name of Jesus. A few days more than\ntwelve months, had elapsed between the period of her first captivity\nand her execution.\n\n\nELEANOR COBHAM, DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER.\n\nThis was a period in which the ideas of witchcraft had caught fast\nhold of the minds of mankind; and those accusations, which by the\nenlightened part of the species would now be regarded as worthy only\nof contempt, were then considered as charges of the most flatigious\n[Errata: _read_ flagitious] nature. While John, duke of Bedford,\nthe eldest uncle of king Henry VI, was regent of France, Humphrey of\nGloucester, next brother to Bedford, was lord protector of the realm\nof England. Though Henry was now nineteen years of age, yet, as he was\na prince of slender capacity, Humphrey still continued to discharge\nthe functions of sovereignty. He was eminently endowed with popular\nqualities, and was a favourite with the majority of the nation. He had\nhowever many enemies, one of the chief of whom was Henry Beaufort,\ngreat-uncle to the king, and cardinal of Winchester. One of the means\nemployed by this prelate to undermine the power of Humphrey, consisted\nin a charge of witchcraft brought against Eleanor Cobham, his wife.\n\nThis woman had probably yielded to the delusions, which artful persons,\nwho saw into the weakness of her character, sought to practise upon\nher. She was the second wife of Humphrey, and he was suspected to have\nindulged in undue familiarity with her, before he was a widower. His\npresent duchess was reported to have had recourse to witchcraft in the\nfirst instance, by way of securing his wayward inclinations. The duke\nof Bedford had died in 1435; and Humphrey now, in addition to the\nactual exercise of the powers of sovereigny, was next heir to the\ncrown in case of the king's decease. This weak and licentious woman,\nbeing now duchess of Gloucester, and wife to the lord protector,\ndirected her ambition to the higher title and prerogatives of a queen,\nand by way of feeding her evil passions, called to her counsels\nMargery Jourdain, commonly called the witch of Eye, Roger Bolingbroke,\nan astrologer and supposed magician, Thomas Southwel, canon of St.\nStephen's, and one John Hume, or Hun, a priest. These persons\nfrequently met the duchess in secret cabal. They were accused of\ncalling up spirits from the infernal world; and they made an image of\nwax, which they slowly consumed before a fire, expecting that, as the\nimage gradually wasted away, so the constitution and life of the poor\nking would decay and finally perish.\n\nHume, or Hun, is supposed to have turned informer, and upon his\ninformation several of these persons were taken into custody. After\nprevious examination, on the twenty-fifth of July, 1441, Bolingbroke\nwas placed upon a scaffold before the cross of St. Paul's, with a\nchair curiously painted, which was supposed to be one of his\nimplements of necromancy, and dressed in mystical attire, and there,\nbefore the archbishop of Canterbury, the cardinal of Winchester, and\nseveral other bishops, made abjuration of all his unlawful arts.\n\nA short time after, the duchess of Gloucester, having fled to the\nsanctuary at Westminster, her case was referred to the same high\npersons, and Bolingbroke was brought forth to give evidence against\nher. She was of consequence committed to custody in the castle of\nLeeds near Maidstone, to take her trial in the month of October. A\ncommission was directed to the lord treasurer, several noblemen, and\ncertain judges of both benches, to enquire into all manner of treasons,\nsorceries, and other things that might be hurtful to the king's person,\nand Bolingbroke and Southwel as principals, and the duchess of\nGloucester as accessory, were brought before them. Margery Jourdain\nwas arraigned at the same time; and she, as a witch and relapsed\nheretic, was condemned to be burned in Smithfield. The duchess of\nGloucester was sentenced to do penance on three several days, walking\nthrough the streets of London, with a lighted taper in her hand,\nattended by the lord mayor, the sheriffs, and a select body of the\nlivery, and then to be banished for life to the isle of Man. Thomas\nSouthwel died in prison; and Bolingbroke was hanged at Tyburn on the\neighteenth of November.\n\n\nRICHARD III.\n\nAn event occurred not very long after this, which deserves to be\nmentioned, as being well calculated to shew how deep an impression\nideas of witchcraft had made on the public mind even in the gravest\naffairs and the counsels of a nation. Richard duke of Gloucester,\nafterwards Richard III, shortly before his usurpation of the crown in\n1483, had recourse to this expedient for disarming the power of his\nenemies, which he feared as an obstacle to his project. Being lord\nprotector, he came abruptly into the assembly of the council that he\nhad left but just before, and suddenly asked, what punishment they\ndeserved who should be found to have plotted against his life, being\nthe person, as nearest akin to the young king, intrusted in chief with\nthe affairs of the nation? And, a suitable answer being returned, he\nsaid the persons he accused were the queen-dowager, and Jane Shore,\nthe favourite concubine of the late king, who by witchcraft and\nforbidden arts had sought to destroy him. And, while he spoke, he laid\nbare his left arm up to the elbow, which appeared shrivelled and\nwasted in a pitiable manner. \"To this condition,\" said he, \"have these\nabandoned women reduced me.\"--The historian adds, that it was well\nknown that his arm had been thus wasted from his birth.\n\nIn January 1484, the parliament met which recognised the title of\nRichard, and pronounced the marriage of Edward IV null, and its issue\nillegitimate. [188] The same parliament passed an act of attainder\nagainst Henry earl of Richmond, afterwards Henry VII, the countess of\nRichmond, his mother, and a great number of other persons, many of\nthem the most considerable adherents of the house of Lancaster. Among\nthese persons are enumerated Thomas Nandick and William Knivet,\nnecromancers. In the first parliament of Henry VII this attainder was\nreversed, and Thomas Nandick of Cambridge, conjurer, is specially\nnominated as an object of free pardon. [189]\n\n\n\n\nSANGUINARY PROCEEDINGS AGAINST WITCHCRAFT.\n\n\nI am now led to the most painful part of my subject, but which does\nnot the less constitute one of its integral members, and which, though\npainful, is deeply instructive, and constitutes a most essential\nbranch in the science of human nature. Wherever I could, I have\nendeavoured to render the topics which offered themselves to my\nexamination, entertaining. When men pretended to invert the known laws\nof nature, \"murdering impossibility; to make what cannot be, slight\nwork;\" I have been willing to consider the whole as an ingenious\nfiction, and merely serving as an example how far credulity could go\nin setting aside the deductions of our reason, and the evidence of\nsense. The artists in these cases did not fail to excite admiration,\nand gain some sort of applause from their contemporaries, though still\nwith a tingling feeling that all was not exactly as it should be, and\nwith a confession that the professors were exercising unhallowed arts.\nIt was like what has been known of the art of acting; those who\nemployed it were caressed and made every where welcome, but were not\nallowed the distinction of Christian burial.\n\nBut, particularly in the fifteenth century, things took a new turn. In\nthe dawn of the day of good sense, and when historical evidence at\nlength began to be weighed in the scales of judgment, men became less\ncareless of truth, and regarded prodigies and miracles with a different\ntemper. And, as it often happens, the crisis, the precise passage from\nill to better, shewed itself more calamitous, and more full of\nenormities and atrocity, than the period when the understanding was\ncompletely hood-winked, and men digested absurdities and impossibility\nwith as much ease as their every day food. They would not now forgive\nthe tampering with the axioms of eternal truth; they regarded cheat\nand imposture with a very different eye; and they had recourse to the\nstake and the faggot, for the purpose of proving that they would no\nlonger be trifled with. They treated the offenders as the most\natrocious of criminals, and thus, though by a very indirect and\ncircuitous method, led the way to the total dispersion of those clouds,\nwhich hung, with most uneasy operation, on the human understanding.\n\nThe university of Paris in the year 1398 promulgated an edict, in\nwhich they complained that the practice of witchcraft was become more\nfrequent and general than at any former period. [190]\n\nA stratagem was at this time framed by the ecclesiastical persecutors,\nof confounding together the crimes of heresy and witchcraft. The first\nof these might seem to be enough in the days of bigotry and implicit\nfaith, to excite the horror of the vulgar; but the advocates of\nreligious uniformity held that they should be still more secure of\ntheir object, if they could combine the sin of holding cheap the\nauthority of the recognised heads of Christian faith, with that of\nmen's enlisting under the banners of Satan, and becoming the avowed\nand sworn vassals of his infernal empire. They accordingly seem to\nhave invented the ideas of a sabbath of witches, a numerous assembly\nof persons who had cast off all sense of shame, and all regard for\nthose things which the rest of the human species held most sacred,\nwhere the devil appeared among them in his most forbidding form, and,\nby rites equally ridiculous and obscene, the persons present\nacknowledged themselves his subjects. And, having invented this scene,\nthese cunning and mischievous persecutors found means, as we shall\npresently see, of compelling their unfortunate victims to confess that\nthey had personally assisted at the ceremony, and performed all the\ndegrading offices which should consign them in the world to come to\neverlasting fire.\n\nWhile I express myself thus, I by no means intend to encourage the\nidea that the ecclesiastical authorities of these times were generally\nhypocrites. They fully partook of the narrowness of thought of the\nperiod in which they lived. They believed that the sin of heretical\npravity was \"as the sin of witchcraft;\" [191] they regarded them alike\nwith horror, and were persuaded that there was a natural consent and\nalliance between them. Fully impressed with this conception, they\nemployed means from which our genuine and undebauched nature revolts,\nto extort from their deluded victims a confession of what their\nexaminers apprehended to be true; they asked them leading questions;\nthey suggested the answers they desired to receive; and led the\nignorant and friendless to imagine that, if these answers were adopted,\nthey might expect immediately to be relieved from insupportable\ntortures. The delusion went round. These unhappy wretches, finding\nthemselves the objects of universal abhorrence, and the hatred of\nmankind, at length many of them believed that they had entered into a\nleague with the devil, that they had been transported by him through\nthe air to an assembly of souls consigned to everlasting reprobation,\nthat they had bound themselves in acts of fealty to their infernal\ntaskmasters [Errata: _read_ taskmaster], and had received from\nhim in return the gift of performing superhuman and supernatural feats.\nThis is a tremendous state of degradation of what Milton called the\n\"the faultless proprieties of nature,\" [192] which cooler thinking and\nmore enlightened times would lead us to regard as impossible, but to\nwhich the uncontradicted and authentic voice of history compels us to\nsubscribe.\n\nThe Albigenses and Waldenses were a set of men, who, in the\nflourishing provinces of Languedoc, in the darkest ages, and when the\nunderstandings of human creatures by a force not less memorable than\nthat of Procrustes were reduced to an uniform stature, shook off by\nsome strange and unaccountable freak, the chains that were universally\nimposed, and arrived at a boldness of thinking similar to that which\nLuther and Calvin after a lapse of centuries advocated with happier\nauspices. With these manly and generous sentiments however they\ncombined a considerable portion of wild enthusiasm. They preached the\nnecessity of a community of goods, taught that it was necessary to\nwear sandals, because sandals only had been worn by the apostles, and\ndevoted themselves to lives of rigorous abstinence and the most severe\nself-denial.\n\nThe Catholic church knew no other way in those days of converting\nheretics, but by fire and sword; and accordingly pope Innocent the\nThird published a crusade against them. The inquisition was expressly\nappointed in its origin to bring back these stray sheep into the flock\nof Christ; and, to support this institution in its operations, Simon\nMontfort marched a numerous army for the extermination of the\noffenders. One hundred thousand are said to have perished. They\ndisappeared from the country which had witnessed their commencement,\nand dispersed themselves in the vallies of Piedmont, in Artois, and in\nvarious other places. This crusade occurred in the commencement of the\nthirteenth century; and they do not again attract the notice of\nhistory till the middle of the fifteenth.\n\nMonstrelet, in his Chronicle, gives one of the earliest accounts of\nthe proceedings at this time instituted against these unfortunate\npeople, under the date of the year 1459. \"In this year,\" says he, \"in\nthe town of Arras, there occurred a miserable and inhuman scene, to\nwhich, I know not why, was given the name of _Vaudoisie_. There\nwere taken up and imprisoned a number of considerable persons\ninhabitants of this town, and others of a very inferior class. These\nlatter were so cruelly put to the torture, that they confessed, that\nthey had been transported by supernatural means to a solitary place\namong woods, where the devil appeared before them in the form of a man,\nthough they saw not his face. He instructed them in the way in which\nthey should do his bidding, and exacted from them acts of homage and\nobedience. He feasted them, and after, having put out the lights, they\nproceeded to acts of the grossest licentiousness.\" These accounts,\naccording to Monstrelet, were dictated to the victims by their\ntormentors; and they then added, under the same suggestion, the names\nof divers lords, prelates, and governors of towns and bailliages, whom\nthey affirmed they had seen at these meetings, and who joined in the\nsame unholy ceremonies. The historian adds, that it cannot be\nconcealed that these accusations were brought by certain malicious\npersons, either to gratify an ancient hatred, or to extort from the\nrich sums of money, by means of which they might purchase their escape\nfrom further prosecution. The persons apprehended were many of them\nput to the torture so severely, and for so long a time, and were\ntortured again and again, that they were obliged to confess what was\nlaid to their charge. Some however shewed so great constancy, that\nthey could by no means be induced to depart from the protestation of\ntheir innocence. In fine, many of the poorer victims were inhumanly\nburned; while the richer with great sums of money procured their\ndischarge, but at the same time were compelled to banish themselves to\ndistant places, remote from the scene of this cruel outrage.--Balduinus\nof Artois gives a similar account, and adds that the sentence of the\njudges was brought, by appeal under the revision of the parliament of\nParis, and was reversed by that judicature in the year 1491. [193]\n\nI have not succeeded in tracing to my satisfaction from the original\nauthorities the dates of the following examples, and therefore shall\nrefer them to the periods assigned them in Hutchinson on Witchcraft.\nThe facts themselves rest for the most part on the most unquestionable\nauthority.\n\nInnocent VIII published about the year 1484 a bull, in which he\naffirms: \"It has come to our ears, that numbers of both sexes do not\navoid to have intercourse with the infernal fiends, and that by their\nsorceries they afflict both man and beast; they blight the\nmarriage-bed, destroy the births of women, and the increase of cattle;\nthey blast the corn on the ground, the grapes of the vineyard, the\nfruits of the trees, and the grass and herbs of the field.\" For these\nreasons he arms the inquisitors with apostolic power to \"imprison,\nconvict and punish\" all such as may be charged with these\noffences.--The consequences of this edict were dreadful all over the\ncontinent, particularly in Italy, Germany and France.\n\nAlciatus, an eminent lawyer of this period, relates, that a certain\ninquisitor came about this time into the vallies of the Alps, being\ncommissioned to enquire out and proceed against heretical women with\nwhom those parts were infested. He accordingly consigned more than one\nhundred to the flames, every day, like a new holocaust, sacrificing\nsuch persons to Vulcan, as, in the judgment of the historian, were\nsubjects demanding rather hellebore than fire; till at length the\npeasantry of the vicinity rose in arms, and drove the merciless judge\nout of the country. The culprits were accused of having dishonoured\nthe crucifix, and denying Christ for their God. They were asserted to\nhave solemnised after a detestable way the devil's sabbath, in which\nthe fiend appeared personally among them, and instructed them in the\nceremonies of his worship. Meanwhile a question was raised whether\nthey personally assisted on the occasion, or only saw the solemnities\nin a vision, credible witnesses having sworn that they were at home in\ntheir beds, at the very time that they were accused of having taken\npart in these blasphemies. [194]\n\nIn 1515, more than five hundred persons are said to have suffered\ncapitally for the crime of witchcraft in the city of Geneva in the\ncourse of three months. [195]\n\nIn 1524, one thousand persons were burned on this accusation in the\nterritory of Como, and one hundred per annum for several year after.\n[196]\n\nDanaeus commences his Dialogue of Witches with this observation. \"Within\nthree months of the present time (1575) an almost infinite number of\nwitches have been taken, on whom the parliament of Paris has passed\njudgment: and the same tribunal fails not to sit daily, as malefactors\naccused of this crime are continually brought before them out of all\nthe provinces.\"\n\nIn the year 1595 Nicholas Remi, otherwise Remigius, printed a very\ncurious work, entitled Demonolatreia, in which he elaborately expounds\nthe principles of the compact into which the devil enters with his\nmortal allies, and the modes of conduct specially observed by both\nparties. He boasts that his exposition is founded on an exact\nobservation of the judicial proceedings which had taken place under\nhis eye in the duchy of Lorraine, where for the preceding fifteen\nyears nine hundred persons, more or less, had suffered the extreme\npenalty of the law for the crime of sorcery. Most of the persons tried\nseem to have been sufficiently communicative as to the different kinds\nof menace and compulsion by which the devil had brought them into his\nterms, and the various appearances he had exhibited, and feats he had\nperformed: but others, says the author, had, \"by preserving an\nobstinate silence, shewn themselves invincible to every species of\ntorture that could be inflicted on them.\"\n\nBut the most memorable record that remains to us on the subject of\nwitchcraft, is contained in an ample quarto volume, entitled A\nRepresentation (_Tableau_) of the Ill Faith of Evil Spirits and\nDemons, by Pierre De Lancre, Royal Counsellor in the Parliament of\nBordeaux. This man was appointed with one coadjutor, to enquire into\ncertain acts of sorcery, reported to have been committed in the\ndistrict of Labourt, near the foot of the Pyrenees; and his commission\nbears date in May, 1609, and by consequence twelve months before the\ndeath of Henry the Fourth.\n\nThe book is dedicated to M. de Silleri, chancellor of France; and in\nthe dedication the author observes, that formerly those who practised\nsorcery were well known for persons of obscure station and narrow\nintellect; but that now the sorcerers who confess their misdemeanours,\ndepose, that there are seen in the customary meetings held by such\npersons a great number of individuals of quality, whom Satan keeps\nveiled from ordinary gaze, and who are allowed to approach near to him,\nwhile those of a poorer and more vulgar class are thrust back to the\nfurthest part of the assembly. The whole narrative assumes the form of\na regular warfare between Satan on the one side, and the royal\ncommissioners on the other.\n\nAt first the devil endeavoured to supply the accused with strength to\nsupport the tortures by which it was sought to extort confession from\nthem, insomuch that, in an intermission of the torture, the wretches\ndeclared that, presently falling asleep, they seemed to be in paradise,\nand to enjoy the most beautiful visions. The commissioners however,\nobserving this, took care to grant them scarcely any remission, till\nthey had drawn from them, if possible, an ample confession. The devil\nnext proceeded to stop the mouths of the accused that they might not\nconfess. He leaped on their throats, and evidently caused an\nobstruction of the organs of speech, so that in vain they endeavoured\nto relieve themselves by disclosing all that was demanded of them.\n\nThe historian proceeds to say that, at these sacrilegious assemblings,\nthey now began to murmur against the devil, as wanting power to\nrelieve them in their extremity. The children, the daughters, and\nother relatives of the victims reproached him, not scrupling to say,\n\"Out upon you! you promised that our mothers who were prisoners should\nnot die; and look how you have kept your word with us! They have been\nburned, and are a heap of ashes.\" In answer to this charge the devil\nstoutly affirmed, that their parents, who seemed to have suffered,\nwere not dead, but were safe in a foreign country, assuring the\nmalcontents that, if they called on them, they would receive an answer.\nThe children called accordingly, and by an infernal illusion an answer\ncame, exactly in the several voices of the deceased, declaring that\nthey were in a state of happiness and security.\n\nFurther to satisfy the complainers, the devil produced illusory fires,\nand encouraged the dissatisfied to walk through them, assuring them\nthat the fires lighted by a judicial decree were as harmless and\ninoffensive as these. The demon further threatened that he would cause\nthe prosecutors to be burned in their own fire, and even proceeded to\nmake them in semblance hover and alight on the branches of the\nneighbouring trees. He further caused a swarm of toads to appear like\na garland to crown the heads of the sufferers, at which when in one\ninstance the bystanders threw stones to drive them away, one monstrous\nblack toad remained to the last uninjured, and finally mounted aloft,\nand vanished from sight. De Lancre goes on to describe the ceremonies\nof the sabbath of the devil; and a plate is inserted, presenting the\nassembly in the midst of their solemnities. He describes in several\nchapters the sort of contract entered into between the devil and the\nsorcerers, the marks by which they may be known, the feast with which\nthe demon regaled them, their distorted and monstrous dance, the\ncopulation between the fiend and the witch, and its issue.--It is easy\nto imagine with what sort of fairness the trials were conducted, when\nsuch is the description the judge affords us of what passed at these\nassemblies. Six hundred were burned under this prosecution.\n\nThe last chapter is devoted to an accurate account of what took place\nat an _auto da fe_ in the month of November 1610 at Logrogno on\nthe Ebro in Spain, the victims being for the greater part the unhappy\nwretches, who had escaped through the Pyrenees from the merciless\nprosecution that had been exercised against them by the historian of\nthe whole.\n\n\nSAVONAROLA.\n\nJerome Savonarola was one of the most remarkable men of his time, and\nhis fortunes are well adapted to illustrate the peculiarities of that\nperiod. He was born in the year 1452 at Ferrara in Italy. He became a\nDominican Friar at Bologna without the knowledge of his parents in the\ntwenty-second year of his age. He was first employed by his superiors\nin elucidating the principles of physics and metaphysics. But, after\nhaving occupied some years in this way, he professed to take a lasting\nleave of these subtleties, and to devote himself exclusively to the\nstudy of the Scriptures. In no long time he became an eminent preacher,\nby the elegance and purity of his style acquiring the applause of\nhearers of taste, and by the unequalled fervour of his eloquence\nsecuring the hearts of the many. It was soon obvious, that, by his\npower gained in this mode, he could do any thing he pleased with the\npeople of Florence among whom he resided. Possessed of such an\nascendancy, he was not contented to be the spiritual guide of the\nsouls of men, but further devoted himself to the temporal prosperity\nand grandeur of his country. The house of Medici was at this time\nmasters of the state, and the celebrated Lorenzo de Medici possessed\nthe administration of affairs. But the political maxims of Lorenzo\nwere in discord with those of our preacher. Lorenzo sought to\nconcentre all authority in the opulent few; but Savonarola, proceeding\non the model of the best times of ancient Rome, endeavoured to vest\nthe sovereign power in the hands of the people.\n\nHe had settled at Florence in the thirty-fourth year of his age, being\ninvited to become prior of the convent of St. Mark in that city: and\nsuch was his popularity, that, four years after, Lorenzo on his\ndeath-bed sent for Savonarola to administer to him spiritual\nconsolation. Meanwhile, so stern did this republican shew himself,\nthat he insisted on Lorenzo's renunciation of his absolute power,\nbefore he would administer to him the sacrament and absolution: and\nLorenzo complied with these terms.\n\nThe prince being dead, Savonarola stepped immediately into the highest\nauthority. He reconstituted the state upon pure republican principles,\nand enjoined four things especially in all his public preachings, the\nfear of God, the love of the republic, oblivion of all past injuries,\nand equal rights to all for the future.\n\nBut Savonarola was not contented with the delivery of Florence, where\nhe is said to have produced a total revolution of manners, from\nlibertinism to the most exemplary purity and integrity; he likewise\naspired to produce an equal effect on the entire of Italy.\nAlexander VI, the most profligate of popes, then filled the chair at\nRome; and Savonarola thundered against him in the cathedral at\nFlorence the most fearful denunciations. The pope did not hesitate a\nmoment to proceed to extremities against the friar. He cited him to\nRome, under pain, if disobeyed, of excommunication to the priest, and\nan interdict to the republic that harboured him. The Florentines\nseveral times succeeded in causing the citation to be revoked, and,\nmaking terms with the sovereign pontiff, Jerome again and again\nsuspending his preachings, which were however continued by other\nfriars, his colleagues and confederates. Savonarola meanwhile could\nnot long be silent; he resumed his philippics as fiercely as ever.\n\nAt this time faction raged strongly at Florence. Jerome had many\npartisans; all the Dominicans, and the greater part of the populace.\nBut he had various enemies leagued against him; the adherents of the\nhouse of Medici, those of the pope, the libertines, and all orders of\nmonks and friars except the Dominicans, The violence proceeded so far,\nthat the preacher was not unfrequently insulted in his pulpit, and the\ncathedral echoed with the dissentions of the parties. At length a\nconspiracy was organized against Savonarola; and, his adherents having\ngot the better, the friar did not dare to trust the punishment of his\nenemies to the general assembly, where the question would have led to\na scene of warfare, but referred it to a more limited tribunal, and\nfinally proceeded to the infliction of death on its sole authority.\n\nThis extremity rendered his enemies more furious against him. The pope\ndirected absolution, the communion, and the rites of sepulture, to be\nrefused to his followers. He was now expelled from the cathedral at\nFlorence, and removed his preachings to the chapel of his convent,\nwhich was enlarged in its accommodations to adapt itself to his\nnumerous auditors. In this interim a most extraordinary scene took\nplace. One Francis de Pouille offered himself to the trial of fire, in\nfavour of the validity of the excommunication of the pope against the\npretended inspiration and miracles of the prophet. He said he did not\ndoubt to perish in the experiment, but that he should have the\nsatisfaction of seeing Savonarola perish along with him. Dominic de\nPescia however and another Dominican presented themselves to the\nflames instead of Jerome, alledging that he was reserved for higher\nthings. De Pouille at first declined the substitution, but was\nafterwards prevailed on to submit. A vast fire was lighted in the\nmarketplace for the trial; and a low and narrow gallery of iron passed\nover the middle, on which the challenger and the challenged were to\nattempt to effect their passage. But a furious deluge of rain was said\nto have occurred at the instant every thing was ready; the fire was\nextinguished; and the trial for the present was thus rendered\nimpossible.\n\nSavonarola in the earnestness of his preachings pretended to turn\nprophet, and confidently to predict future events. He spoke of\nCharles VIII of France as the Cyrus who should deliver Italy, and\nsubdue the nations before him; and even named the spring of the year\n1498 as the period that should see all these things performed.\n\nBut it was not in prophecy alone that Savonarola laid claim to\nsupernatural aid. He described various contests that he had maintained\nagainst a multitude of devils at once in his convent. They tormented\nin different ways the friars of St. Mark, but ever shrank with awe\nfrom his personal interposition. They attempted to call upon him by\nname; but the spirit of God overruled them, so that they could never\npronounce his name aright, but still misplaced syllables and letters\nin a ludicrous fashion. They uttered terrific threatenings against him,\nbut immediately after shrank away with fear, awed by the holy words\nand warnings which he denounced against them. Savonarola besides\nundertook to expel them by night, by sprinkling holy water, and the\nsinging of hymns in a solemn chorus. While however he was engaged in\nthese sacred offices, and pacing the cloister of his convent, the\ndevils would arrest his steps, and suddenly render the air before him\nso thick, that it was impossible for him to advance further. On\nanother occasion one of his colleagues assured Francis Picus of\nMirandola, the writer of his Life, that he had himself seen the Holy\nGhost in the form of a dove more than once, sitting on Savonarola's\nshoulder, fluttering his feathers, which were sprinkled with silver\nand gold, and, putting his beak to his ear, whispering to him his\ndivine suggestions. The prior besides relates in a book of his own\ncomposition at great length a dialogue that he held with the devil,\nappearing like, and having been mistaken by the writer for, a hermit.\n\nThe life of Savonarola however came to a speedy and tragical close.\nThe multitude, who are always fickle in their impulses, conceiving an\nunfavourable impression in consequence of his personally declining the\ntrial by fire, turned against him. The same evening they besieged the\nconvent where he resided, and in which he had taken refuge. The\nsignory, seeing the urgency of the case, sent to the brotherhood,\ncommanding them to surrender the prior, and the two Dominicans who had\npresented themselves in his stead to the trial by fire. The pope sent\ntwo judges to try them on the spot. They were presently put to the\ntorture. Savonarola, who we are told was of a delicate habit of body,\nspeedily confessed and expressed contrition for what he had done. But\nno sooner was he delivered from the strappado, than he retracted all\nthat he had before confessed. The experiment was repeated several\ntimes, and always with the same success.\n\nAt length he and the other two were adjudged to perish in the flames.\nThis sentence was no sooner pronounced than Savonarola resumed all the\nconstancy of a martyr. He advanced to the place of execution with a\nsteady pace and a serene countenance, and in the midst of the flames\nresignedly commended his soul into the hands of his maker. His\nadherents regarded him as a witness to the truth, and piously\ncollected his relics; but his judges, to counteract this defiance of\nauthority, commanded his remains and his ashes to be cast into the\nriver. [197]\n\n\nTRITHEMIUS.\n\nA name that has in some way become famous in the annals of magic, is\nthat of John Trithemius, abbot of Spanheim, or Sponheim, in the circle\nof the Upper Rhine. He was born in the year 1462. He early\ndistinguished himself by his devotion to literature; insomuch that,\naccording to the common chronology, he was chosen in the year 1482,\nbeing about twenty years of age, abbot of the Benedictine monastery of\nSt. Martin at Spanheim. He has written a great number of works, and\nhas left some memorials of his life. Learning was at a low ebb when he\nwas chosen to this dignity. The library of the convent consisted of\nlittle more than forty volumes. But, shortly after, under his\nsuperintendence it amounted to many hundreds. He insisted upon his\nmonks diligently employing themselves in the multiplication of\nmanuscripts. The monks, who had hitherto spent their days in luxurious\nidleness, were greatly dissatisfied with this revolution, and led\ntheir abbot a very uneasy life. He was in consequence removed to\npreside over the abbey of St. Jacques in Wurtzburg in 1506, where he\ndied in tranquillity and peace in 1516.\n\nTrithemius has been accused of necromancy and a commerce with demons.\nThe principal ground of this accusation lies in a story that has been\ntold of his intercourse with the emperor Maximilian. Maximilian's\nfirst wife was Mary of Burgundy, whom he lost in the prime of her life.\nThe emperor was inconsolable upon the occasion; and Trithemius, who\nwas called in as singularly qualified to comfort him, having tried all\nother expedients in vain, at length told Maximilian that he would\nundertake to place his late consort before him precisely in the state\nin which she had lived. After suitable preparations, Mary of Burgundy\naccordingly appeared. The emperor was struck with astonishment. He\nfound the figure before him in all respects like the consort he had\nlost. At length he exclaimed, \"There is one mark by which I shall\ninfallibly know whether this is the same person. Mary, my wife, had a\nwart in the nape of her neck, to the existence of which no one was\nprivy but myself.\" He examined, and found the wart there, in all\nrespects as it had been during her life. The story goes on to say,\nthat Maximilian was so disgusted and shocked with what he saw, that he\nbanished Trithemius his presence for ever.\n\nThis tale has been discredited, partly on the score of the period of\nthe death of Mary of Burgundy, which happened in 1481, when Trithemius\nwas only nineteen years of age. He himself expressly disclaims all\nimputation of sorcery. One ground of the charge has been placed upon\nthe existence of a work of his, entitled Steganographia, or the art,\nby means of a secret writing, of communicating our thoughts to a\nperson absent. He says however, that in this work he had merely used\nthe language of magic, without in any degree having had recourse to\ntheir modes of proceeding. Trithemius appears to have been the first\nwriter who has made mention of the extraordinary feats of John Faust\nof Wittenburg, and that in a way that shews he considered these\nenchantments as the work of a supernatural power. [198]\n\n\nLUTHER.\n\nIt is particularly proper to introduce some mention of Luther in this\nplace; not that he is in any way implicated in the question of\nnecromancy, but that there are passages in his writings in which he\ntalks of the devil in what we should now think a very extraordinary\nway. And it is curious, and not a little instructive, to see how a\nperson of so masculine an intellect, and who in many respects so far\noutran the illumination of his age, was accustomed to judge respecting\nthe intercourse of mortals with the inhabitants of the infernal world.\nLuther was born in the year 1483.\n\nIt appears from his Treatise on the Abuses attendant on Private Masses,\nthat he had a conference with the devil on the subject. He says, that\nthis supernatural personage caused him by his visits \"many bitter\nnights and much restless and wearisome repose.\" Once in particular he\ncame to Luther, \"in the dead of the night, when he was just awaked out\nof sleep. The devil,\" he goes on to say, \"knows well how to construct\nhis arguments, and to urge them with the skill of a master. He\ndelivers himself with a grave, and yet a shrill voice. Nor does he use\ncircumlocutions, and beat about the bush, but excels in forcible\nstatements and quick rejoinders. I no longer wonder,\" he adds, \"that\nthe persons whom he assails in this way, are occasionally found dead\nin their beds. He is able to compress and throttle, and more than once\nhe has so assaulted me and driven my soul into a corner, that I felt\nas if the next moment it must leave my body. I am of opinion that\nGesner and Oecolampadius and others in that manner came by their\ndeaths. The devil's manner of opening a debate is pleasant enough; but\nhe urges things so peremptorily, that the respondent in a short time\nknows not how to acquit himself.\" [199] He elsewhere says, \"The\nreasons why the sacramentarians understood so little of the Scriptures,\nis that they do not encounter the true opponent, that is, the devil,\nwho presently drives one up in a corner, and thus makes one perceive\nthe just interpretation. For my part I am thoroughly acquainted with\nhim, and have eaten a bushel of salt with him. He sleeps with me more\nfrequently, and lies nearer to me in bed, than my own wife does.\" [200]\n\n\nCORNELIUS AGRIPPA.\n\nHenry Cornelius Agrippa was born in the year 1486. He was one of the\nmost celebrated men of his time. His talents were remarkably great;\nand he had a surprising facility in the acquisition of languages. He\nis spoken of with the highest commendations by Trithemius, Erasmus,\nMelancthon, and others, the greatest men of his times. But he was a\nman of the most violent passions, and of great instability of temper.\nHe was of consequence exposed to memorable vicissitudes. He had great\nreputation as an astrologer, and was assiduous in the cultivation of\nchemistry. He had the reputation of possessing the philosopher's stone,\nand was incessantly experiencing the privations of poverty. He was\nsubject to great persecutions, and was repeatedly imprisoned. He\nreceived invitations at the same time from Henry VIII, from the\nchancellor of the emperor, from a distinguished Italian marquis, and\nfrom Margaret of Austria, governess of the Low Countries. He made his\nelection in favour of the last, and could find no way so obvious of\nshowing his gratitude for her patronage, as composing an elaborate\ntreatise on the Superiority of the Female Sex, which he dedicated to\nher. Shortly after, he produced a work not less remarkable, to\ndemonstrate the Vanity and Emptiness of Scientifical Acquirements.\nMargaret of Austria being dead, he was subsequently appointed physician\nto Louisa of Savoy, mother to Francis I. This lady however having\nassigned him a task disagreeable to his inclination, a calculation\naccording to the rules of astrology, he made no scruple of turning\nagainst her, and affirming that he should henceforth hold her for a\ncruel and perfidious Jezebel. After a life of storms and perpetual\nvicissitude, he died in 1534, aged 48 years.\n\nHe enters however into the work I am writing, principally on account\nof the extraordinary stories that have been told of him on the subject\nof magic. He says of himself, in his Treatise on the Vanity of\nSciences, \"Being then a very young man, I wrote in three books of a\nconsiderable size Disquisitions concerning Magic.\"\n\nThe first of the stories I am about to relate is chiefly interesting,\ninasmuch as it is connected with the history of one of the most\nillustrious ornaments of our early English poetry, Henry Howard earl\nof Surrey, who suffered death at the close of the reign of King\nHenry VIII. The earl of Surrey, we are told, became acquainted with\nCornelius Agrippa at the court of John George elector of Saxony. On\nthis occasion were present, beside the English nobleman, Erasmus, and\nmany other persons eminent in the republic of letters. These persons\nshewed themselves enamoured of the reports that had been spread of\nAgrippa, and desired him before the elector to exhibit something\nmemorable. One intreated him to call up Plautus, and shew him as he\nappeared in garb and countenance, when he ground corn in the mill.\nAnother before all things desired to see Ovid. But Erasmus earnestly\nrequested to behold Tully in the act of delivering his oration for\nRoscius. This proposal carried the most votes. And, after marshalling\nthe concourse of spectators, Tully appeared, at the command of Agrippa,\nand from the rostrum pronounced the oration, precisely in the words in\nwhich it has been handed down to us, \"with such astonishing animation,\nso fervent an exaltation of spirit, and such soul-stirring gestures,\nthat all the persons present were ready, like the Romans of old, to\npronounce his client innocent of every charge that had been brought\nagainst him.\" The story adds, that, when sir Thomas More was at the\nsame place, Agrippa shewed him the whole destruction of Troy in a\ndream. To Thomas Lord Cromwel he exhibited in a perspective glass King\nHenry VIII and all his lords hunting in his forest at Windsor. To\nCharles V he shewed David, Solomon, Gideon, and the rest, with the\nNine Worthies, in their habits and similitude as they had lived.\n\nLord Surrey, in the mean time having gotten into familiarity with\nAgrippa, requested him by the way side as they travelled, to set\nbefore him his mistress, the fair Geraldine, shewing at the same time\nwhat she did, and with whom she talked. Agrippa accordingly exhibited\nhis magic glass, in which the noble poet saw this beautiful dame, sick,\nweeping upon her bed, and inconsolable for the absence of her\nadmirer.--It is now known, that the sole authority for this tale is\nThomas Nash, the dramatist, in his Adventures of Jack Wilton, printed\nin the year 1593.\n\nPaulus Jovius relates that Agrippa always kept a devil attendant upon\nhim, who accompanied him in all his travels in the shape of a black\ndog. When he lay on his death-bed, he was earnestly exhorted to repent\nof his sins. Being in consequence struck with a deep contrition, he\ntook hold of the dog, and removed from him a collar studded with nails,\nwhich formed a necromantic inscription, at the same time saying to him,\n\"Begone, wretched animal, which hast been the cause of my entire\ndestruction!\"--It is added, that the dog immediately ran away, and\nplunged itself in the river Soane, after which it was seen no more.\n[201] It is further related of Agrippa, as of many other magicians,\nthat he was in the habit, when he regaled himself at an inn, of paying\nhis bill in counterfeit money, which at the time of payment appeared\nof sterling value, but in a few days after became pieces of horn and\nworthless shells. [202]\n\nBut the most extraordinary story of Agrippa is told by Delrio, and is\nas follows. Agrippa had occasion one time to be absent for a few days\nfrom his residence at Louvain. During his absence he intrusted his\nwife with the key of his Museum, but with an earnest injunction that\nno one on any account should be allowed to enter. Agrippa happened at\nthat time to have a boarder in his house, a young fellow of insatiable\ncuriosity, who would never give over importuning his hostess, till at\nlength he obtained from her the forbidden key. The first thing in the\nMuseum that attracted his attention, was a book of spells and\nincantations. He spread this book upon a desk, and, thinking no harm,\nbegan to read aloud. He had not long continued this occupation, when a\nknock was heard at the door of the chamber. The youth took no notice,\nbut continued reading. Presently followed a second knock, which\nsomewhat alarmed the reader. The space of a minute having elapsed, and\nno answer made, the door was opened, and a demon entered. \"For what\npurpose am I called?\" said the stranger sternly. \"What is it you\ndemand to have done?\" The youth was seized with the greatest alarm,\nand struck speechless. The demon advanced towards him, seized him by\nthe throat, and strangled him, indignant that his presence should thus\nbe invoked from pure thoughtlessness and presumption.\n\nAt the expected time Agrippa came home, and to his great surprise\nfound a number of devils capering and playing strange antics about,\nand on the roof of his house. By his art he caused them to desist from\ntheir sport, and with authority demanded what was the cause of this\nnovel appearance. The chief of them answered. He told how they had\nbeen invoked, and insulted, and what revenge they had taken. Agrippa\nbecame exceedingly alarmed for the consequences to himself of this\nunfortunate adventure. He ordered the demon without loss of time to\nreanimate the body of his victim, then to go forth, and to walk the\nboarder three or four times up and down the market-place in the sight\nof the people. The infernal spirit did as he was ordered, shewed the\nstudent publicly alive, and having done this, suffered the body to\nfall down, the marks of conscious existence being plainly no more. For\na time it was thought that the student had been killed by a sudden\nattack of disease. But, presently after, the marks of strangulation\nwere plainly discerned, and the truth came out. Agrippa was then\nobliged suddenly to withdraw himself, and to take up his residence in\na distant province. [203]\n\nWierus in his well known book, _De Praestigiis Demonum_, informs\nus that he had lived for years in daily attendance on Cornelius\nAgrippa, and that the black dog respecting which such strange surmises\nhad been circulated, was a perfectly innocent animal that he had often\nled in a string. He adds, that the sole foundation for the story lay\nin the fact, that Agrippa had been much attached to the dog, which he\nwas accustomed to permit to eat off the table with its master, and\neven to lie of nights in his bed. He further remarks, that Agrippa was\naccustomed often not to go out of his room for a week together, and\nthat people accordingly wondered that he could have such accurate\ninformation of what was going on in all parts of the world, and would\nhave it that his intelligence was communicated to him by his dog. He\nsubjoins however, that Agrippa had in fact correspondents in every\nquarter of the globe, and received letters from them daily, and that\nthis was the real source of his extraordinary intelligence. [204]\n\nNaud\u00e9, in his Apology for Great Men accused of Magic, mentions, that\nAgrippa composed a book of the Rules and Precepts of the Art of Magic,\nand that, if such a work could entitle a man to the character of a\nmagician, Agrippa indeed well deserved it. But he gives it as his\nopinion that this was the only ground for fastening the imputation on\nthis illustrious character.\n\nWithout believing however any of the tales of the magic practices of\nCornelius Agrippa, and even perhaps without supposing that he\nseriously pretended to such arts, we are here presented with a\nstriking picture of the temper and credulity of the times in which he\nlived. We plainly see from the contemporary evidence of Wierus, that\nsuch things were believed of him by his neighbours; and at that period\nit was sufficiently common for any man of deep study, of recluse\nhabits, and a certain sententious and magisterial air to undergo these\nimputations. It is more than probable that Agrippa was willing by a\ngeneral silence and mystery to give encouragement to the wonder of the\nvulgar mind. He was flattered by the terror and awe which his\nappearance inspired. He did not wish to come down to the ordinary\nlevel. And if to this we add his pursuits of alchemy and astrology,\nwith the formidable and various apparatus supposed to be required in\nthese pursuits, we shall no longer wonder at the results which\nfollowed. He loved to wander on the brink of danger, and was contented\nto take his chance of being molested, rather than not possess that\nascendancy over the ordinary race of mankind which was evidently\ngratifying to his vanity.\n\n\nFAUSTUS.\n\nNext in respect of time to Cornelius Agrippa comes the celebrated Dr.\nFaustus. Little in point of fact is known respecting this eminent\npersonage in the annals of necromancy. His pretended history does not\nseem to have been written till about the year 1587, perhaps half a\ncentury after his death. This work is apparently in its principal\nfeatures altogether fictitious. We have no reason however to deny the\nearly statements as to his life. He is asserted by Camerarius and\nWierus to have been born at Cundling near Cracow in the kingdom of\nPoland, and is understood to have passed the principal part of his\nlife at the university of Wittenberg. He was probably well known to\nCornelius Agrippa and Paracelsus. Melancthon mentions him in his\nLetters; and Conrad Gessner refers to him as a contemporary. The\nauthor of his Life cites the opinions entertained respecting him by\nLuther. Philip Camerarius speaks of him in his Horae Subsecivae as a\ncelebrated name among magicians, apparently without reference to the\nLife that has come down to us; [205] and Wierus does the same thing.\n[206] He was probably nothing more than an accomplished juggler, who\nappears to have practised his art with great success in several towns\nof Germany. He was also no doubt a pretender to necromancy.\n\nOn this basis the well known History of his Life has been built. The\nauthor has with great art expanded very slender materials, and\nrendered his work in a striking degree a code and receptacle of all\nthe most approved ideas respecting necromancy and a profane and\nsacrilegious dealing with the devil. He has woven into it with much\nskill the pretended arts of the sorcerers, and has transcribed or\nclosely imitated the stories that have been handed down to us of many\nof the extraordinary feats they were said to have performed. It is\ntherefore suitable to our purpose to dwell at some length upon the\nsuccessive features of this history.\n\nThe life has been said to have been originally written in Spain by\nFranciscus Schottus of Toledo, in the Latin language. [207] But this\nbiographical work is assigned to the date of 1594, previously to which\nthe Life is known to have existed in German. It is improbable that a\nSpanish writer should have chosen a German for the hero of his romance,\nwhereas nothing can be more natural than for a German to have conceived\nthe idea of giving fame and notoriety to his countryman. The mistake\nseems to be the same, though for an opposite reason, as that which\nappears to have been made in representing the Gil Blas of Le Sage as a\ntranslation.\n\nThe biographical account professes to have been begun by Faustus\nhimself, though written in the third person, and to have been\ncontinued by Wagner, his confidential servant, to whom the doctor is\naffirmed to have bequeathed his memoirs, letters and manuscripts,\ntogether with his house and its furniture.\n\nFaustus then, according to his history, was the son of a peasant,\nresiding on the banks of the Roda in the duchy of Weimar, and was\nearly adopted by an uncle, dwelling in the city of Wittenberg, who had\nno children. Here he was sent to college, and was soon distinguished\nby the greatness of his talents, and the rapid progress he made in\nevery species of learning that was put before him. He was destined by\nhis relative to the profession of theology. But singularly enough,\nconsidering that he is represented as furnishing materials for his\nown Memoirs, he is said ungraciously to have set at nought his uncle's\npious intentions by deriding God's word, and thus to have resembled\nCain, Reuben and Absalom, who, having sprung from godly parents,\nafflicted their fathers' hearts by their apostasy. He went through his\nexaminations with applause, and carried off all the first prizes among\nsixteen competitors. He therefore obtained the degree of doctor in\ndivinity; but his success only made him the more proud and headstrong.\nHe disdained his theological eminence, and sighed for distinction as a\nman of the world. He took his degree as a doctor of medicine, and\naspired to celebrity as a practitioner of physic. About the same time\nhe fell in with certain contemporaries, of tastes similar to his own,\nand associated with them in the study of Chaldean, Greek and Arabic\nscience, of strange incantations and supernatural influences, in short,\nof all the arts of a sorcerer.\n\nHaving made such progress as he could by dint of study and intense\napplication, he at length resolved to prosecute his purposes still\nfurther by actually raising the devil. He happened one evening to walk\nin a thick, dark wood, within a short distance from Wittenberg, when\nit occurred to him that that was a fit place for executing his design.\nHe stopped at a solitary spot where four roads met, and made use of\nhis wand to mark out a large circle, and then two small ones within\nthe larger. In one of these he fixed himself, appropriating the other\nfor the use of his expected visitor. He went over the precise range of\ncharms and incantations, omitting nothing. It was now dark night\nbetween the ninth and tenth hour. The devil manifested himself by the\nusual signs of his appearance. \"Wherefore am I called?\" said he, \"and\nwhat is it that you demand?\" \"I require,\" rejoined Faustus, \"that you\nshould sedulously attend upon me, answer my enquiries, and fulfil my\nbehests.\"\n\nImmediately upon Faustus pronouncing these words, there followed a\ntumult over head, as if heaven and earth were coming together. The\ntrees in their topmost branches bended to their very roots. It seemed\nas if the whole forest were peopled with devils, making a crash like a\nthousand waggons, hurrying to the right and the left, before and\nbehind, in every possible direction, with thunder and lightning, and\nthe continual discharge of great cannon. Hell appeared to have emptied\nitself, to have furnished the din. There succeeded the most charming\nmusic from all sorts of instruments, and sounds of hilarity and\ndancing. Next came a report as of a tournament, and the clashing of\ninnumerable lances. This lasted so long, that Faustus was many times\nabout to rush out of the circle in which he had inclosed himself, and\nto abandon his preparations. His courage and resolution however got\nthe better; and he remained immoveable. He pursued his incantations\nwithout intermission. Then came to the very edge of the circle a\ngriffin first, and next a dragon, which in the midst of his\nenchantments grinned at him horribly with his teeth, but finally fell\ndown at his feet, and extended his length to many a rood. Faustus\npersisted. Then succeeded a sort of fireworks, a pillar of fire, and a\nman on fire at the top, who leaped down; and there immediately\nappeared a number of globes here and there red-hot, while the man on\nfire went and came to every part of the circle for a quarter of an\nhour. At length the devil came forward in the shape of a grey monk,\nand asked Faustus what he wanted. Faustus adjourned their further\nconference, and appointed the devil to come to him at his lodgings.\n\nHe in the mean time busied himself in the necessary preparations. He\nentered his study at the appointed time, and found the devil waiting\nfor him. Faustus told him that he had prepared certain articles, to\nwhich it was necessary that the demon should fully accord,--that he\nshould attend him at all times, when required, for all the days of his\nlife, that he should bring him every thing he wanted, that he should\ncome to him in any shape that Faustus required, or be invisible, and\nFaustus should be invisible too, whenever he desired it, that he\nshould deny him nothing, and answer him with perfect veracity to every\nthing he demanded. To some of these requisitions the spirit could not\nconsent, without authority from his master, the chief of devils. At\nlength all these concessions were adjusted. The devil on his part also\nprescribed his conditions. That Faustus should abjure the Christian\nreligion and all reverence for the supreme God; that he should enjoy\nthe entire command of his attendant demon for a certain term of years,\nand that at the end of that period the devil should dispose of him\nbody and soul at his pleasure [the term was fixed for twenty-four\nyears]; that he should at all times stedfastly refuse to listen to any\none who should desire to convert him, or convince him of the error of\nhis ways, and lead him to repentance; that Faustus should draw up a\nwriting containing these particulars, and sign it with his blood, that\nhe should deliver this writing to the devil, and keep a duplicate of\nit for himself, that so there might be no misunderstanding. It was\nfurther appointed by Faustus that the devil should usually attend him\nin the habit of cordelier, with a pleasing countenance and an\ninsinuating demeanour. Faustus also asked the devil his name, who\nanswered that he was usually called Mephostophiles (perhaps more\naccurately Nephostophiles, a lover of clouds).\n\nPreviously to this deplorable transaction, in which Faustus sold\nhimself, soul and body, to the devil, he had consumed his inheritance,\nand was reduced to great poverty. But he was now no longer subjected\nto any straits. The establishments of the prince of Chutz, the duke of\nBavaria, and the archbishop of Saltzburgh were daily put under\ncontribution for his more convenient supply. By the diligence of\nMephostophiles provisions of all kinds continually flew in at his\nwindows; and the choicest wines were perpetually found at his board to\nthe annoyance and discredit of the cellarers and butlers of these\neminent personages, who were extremely blamed for defalcations in\nwhich they had no share. He also brought him a monthly supply of money,\nsufficient for the support of his establishment. Besides, he supplied\nhim with a succession of mistresses, such as his heart desired, which\nwere in truth nothing but devils disguised under the semblance of\nbeautiful women. He further gave to Faustus a book, in which were\namply detailed the processes of sorcery and witchcraft, by means of\nwhich the doctor could obtain whatever he desired.\n\nOne of the earliest indulgences which Faustus proposed to himself from\nthe command he possessed over his servant-demon, was the gratification\nof his curiosity in surveying the various nations of the world.\nAccordingly Mephostophiles converted himself into a horse, with two\nhunches on his back like a dromedary, between which he conveyed\nFaustus through the air where-ever he desired. They consumed fifteen\nmonths in their travels. Among the countries they visited the history\nmentions Pannonia, Austria, Germany, Bohemia, Silesia, Saxony, Misnia,\nThuringia, Franconia, Suabia, Bavaria, Lithuania, Livonia, Prussia,\nMuscovy, Friseland, Holland, Westphalia, Zealand, Brabant, Flanders,\nFrance, Spain, Italy, Poland, and Hungary; and afterwards Turkey,\nEgypt, England, Sweden, Denmark, India, Africa and Persia. In most of\nthese countries Mephostophiles points out to his fellow-traveller\ntheir principal curiosities and antiquities. In Rome they sojourned\nthree days and three nights, and, being themselves invisible, visited\nthe residence of the pope and the other principal palaces.\n\nAt Constantinople Faustus visited the emperor of the Turks, assuming\nto himself the figure of the prophet Mahomet. His approach was\npreceded by a splendid illumination, not less than that of the sun in\nall his glory. He said to the emperor, \"Happy art thou, oh sultan, who\nart found worthy to be visited by the great prophet.\" And the emperor\nin return fell prostrate before him, thanking Mahomet for his\ncondescension in this visit. The doctor also entered the seraglio,\nwhere he remained six days under the same figure, the building and its\ngardens being all the time environed with a thick darkness, so that no\none, not the emperor himself, dared to enter. At the end of this time\nthe doctor, still under the figure of Mahomet, was publicly seen,\nascending, as it seemed, to heaven. The sultan afterwards enquired of\nthe women of his seraglio what had occurred to them during the period\nof the darkness; and they answered, that the God Mahomet had been with\nthem, that he had enjoyed them corporeally, and had told them that\nfrom his seed should arise a great people, capable of irresistible\nexploits.\n\nFaustus had conceived a plan of making his way into the terrestrial\nparadise, without awakening suspicion in his demon-conductor. For this\npurpose he ordered him to ascend the highest mountains of Asia. At\nlength they came so near, that they saw the angel with the flaming\nsword forbidding approach to the garden. Faustus, perceiving this,\nasked Mephostophiles what it meant. His conductor told him, but added\nthat it was in vain for them, or any one but the angels of the Lord,\nto think of entering within.\n\nHaving gratified his curiosity in other ways, Faustus was seized with\na vehement desire to visit the infernal regions. He proposed the\nquestion to Mephostophiles, who told him that this was a matter out of\nhis department, and that on that journey he could have no other\nconductor than Beelzebub. Accordingly, every thing being previously\narranged, one day at midnight Beelzebub appeared, being already\nequipped with a saddle made of dead men's bones. Faustus speedily\nmounted. They in a short time came to an abyss, and encountered a\nmultitude of enormous serpents; but a bear with wings came to their\naid, and drove the serpents away. A flying bull next came with a\nhideous roar, so fierce that Beelzebub appeared to give way, and\nFaustus tumbled at once heels-over-head into the pit. After having\nfallen to a considerable depth, two dragons with a chariot came to his\naid, and an ape helped him to get into the vehicle. Presently however\ncame on a storm with thunder and lightning, so dreadful that the\ndoctor was thrown out, and sunk in a tempestuous sea to a vast depth.\nHe contrived however to lay hold of a rock, and here to secure himself\na footing. He looked down, and perceived a great gulph, in which lay\nfloating many of the vulgar, and not a few emperors, kings, princes,\nand such as had been mighty lords. Faustus with a sudden impulse cast\nhimself into the midst of the flames with which they were surrounded,\nwith the desire to snatch one of the damned souls from the pit. But,\njust as he thought he had caught him by the hand, the miserable wretch\nslided from between his fingers, and sank again.\n\nAt length the doctor became wholly exhausted with the fatigue he had\nundergone, with the smoke and the fog, with the stifling, sulphureous\nair, with the tempestuous blasts, with the alternate extremes of heat\nand cold, and with the clamours, the lamentations, the agonies, and\nthe howlings of the damned everywhere around him,--when, just in the\nnick of time, Beelzebub appeared to him again, and invited him once\nmore to ascend the saddle, which he had occupied during his infernal\njourney. Here he fell asleep, and, when he awoke, found himself in his\nown bed in his house. He then set himself seriously to reflect on what\nhad passed. At one time he believed that he had been really in hell,\nand had witnessed all its secrets. At another he became persuaded that\nhe had been subject to an illusion only, and that the devil had led\nhim through an imaginary scene, which was truly the case; for the\ndevil had taken care not to shew him the real hell, fearing that it\nmight have caused too great a terror, and have induced him to repent\nhim of his misdeeds perhaps before it was too late.\n\nIt so happened that, once upon a time, the emperor Charles V was at\nInspruck, at a time when Faustus also resided there. His courtiers\ninformed the emperor that Faustus was in the town, and Charles\nexpressed a desire to see him. He was introduced. Charles asked him\nwhether he could really perform such wondrous feats as were reported\nof him. Faustus modestly replied, inviting the emperor to make trial\nof his skill. \"Then,\" said Charles, \"of all the eminent personages I\nhave ever read of, Alexander the Great is the man who most excites my\ncuriosity, and whom it would most gratify my wishes to see in the very\nform in which he lived.\" Faustus rejoined, that it was out of his\npower truly to raise the dead, but that he had spirits at his command\nwho had often seen that great conqueror, and that Faustus would\nwillingly place him before the emperor as he required. He conditioned\nthat Charles should not speak to him, nor attempt to touch him. The\nemperor promised compliance. After a few ceremonies therefore, Faustus\nopened a door, and brought in Alexander exactly in the form in which\nhe had lived, with the same garments, and every circumstance\ncorresponding. Alexander made his obeisance to the emperor, and walked\nseveral times round him. The queen of Alexander was then introduced in\nthe same manner. Charles just then recollected, he had read that\nAlexander had a wart on the nape of his neck; and with proper\nprecautions Faustus allowed the emperor to examine the apparition by\nthis test. Alexander then vanished.\n\nAs doctor Faustus waited in court, he perceived a certain knight, who\nhad fallen asleep in a bow-window, with his head out at window. The\nwhim took the doctor, to fasten on his brow the antlers of a stag.\nPresently the knight was roused from his nap, when with all his\nefforts he could not draw in his head on account of the antlers which\ngrew upon it. The courtiers laughed exceedingly at the distress of the\nknight, and, when they had sufficiently diverted themselves, Faustus\ntook off his conjuration, and set the knight at liberty.\n\nSoon after Faustus retired from Inspruck. Meanwhile the knight, having\nconceived a high resentment against the conjuror, waylaid him with\nseven horsemen on the road by which he had to pass. Faustus however\nperceived them, and immediately made himself invisible. Meanwhile the\nknight spied on every side to discover the conjuror; but, as he was\nthus employed, he heard a sudden noise of drums and trumpets and\ncymbals, and saw a regiment of horse advancing against him. He\nimmediately turned off in another direction; but was encountered by a\nsecond regiment of horse. This occurred no less than six times; and\nthe knight and his companions were compelled to surrender at\ndiscretion. These regiments were so many devils; and Faustus now\nappeared in a new form as the general of this army. He obliged the\nknight and his party to dismount, and give up their swords. Then with\na seeming generosity he gave them new horses and new swords, But this\nwas all enchantment. The swords presently turned into switches; and\nthe horses, plunging into a river on their road, vanished from beneath\ntheir riders, who were thoroughly drenched in the stream, and scarcely\nescaped with their lives.\n\nMany of Faustus's delusions are rather remarkable as tricks of merry\nvexation, than as partaking of those serious injuries which we might\nlook for in an implement of hell. In one instance he inquired of a\ncountryman who was driving a load of hay, what compensation he would\njudge reasonable for the doctor's eating as much of his hay as he\nshould be inclined to. The waggoner replied, that for half a stiver\n(one farthing) he should be welcome to eat as much as he pleased. The\ndoctor presently fell to, and ate at such a rate, that the peasant was\nfrightened lest his whole load should be consumed. He therefore\noffered Faustus a gold coin, value twenty-seven shillings, to be off\nhis bargain. The doctor took it; and, when the countryman came to his\njourney's end, he found his cargo undiminished even by a single blade.\n\nAnother time, as Faustus was walking along the road near Brunswick,\nthe whim took him of asking a waggoner who was driving by, to treat\nhim with a ride in his vehicle. \"No, I will not,\" replied the boor;\n\"my horses will have enough to do to drag their proper load.\" \"You\nchurl,\" said the doctor, \"since you will not let your wheels carry me,\nyou shall carry them yourself as far as from the gates of the city.\"\nThe wheels then detached themselves, and flew through the air, to the\ngates of the town from which they came. At the same time the horses\nfell to the ground, and were utterly unable to raise themselves up.\nThe countryman, frightened, fell on his knees to the doctor, and\npromised, if he would forgive him, never to offend in like manner\nagain. Faustus now, relenting a little, bade the waggoner take a\nhandful of sand from the road, and scatter on his horses, and they\nwould be well. At the same time he directed the man to go to the four\ngates of Brunswick, and he would find his wheels, one at each gate.\n\nIn another instance, Faustus went into a fair, mounted on a noble\nbeast, richly caparisoned, the sight of which presently brought all\nthe horse-fanciers about him. After considerable haggling, he at last\ndisposed of his horse to a dealer for a handsome price, only cautioning\nhim at parting, how he rode the horse to water. The dealer, despising\nthe caution that had been given him, turned his horse the first thing\ntowards the river. He had however no sooner plunged in, than the horse\nvanished, and the rider found himself seated on a saddle of straw, in\nthe middle of the stream. With difficulty he waded to the shore, and\nimmediately, enquiring out the doctor's inn, went to him to complain\nof the cheat. He was directed to Faustus's room, and entering found\nthe conjuror on his bed, apparently asleep. He called to him lustily,\nbut the doctor took no notice. Worked up beyond his patience, he next\nlaid hold of Faustus's foot, that he might rouse him the more\neffectually. What was his surprise, to find the doctor's leg and foot\ncome off in his hand! Faustus screamed, apparently in agony of pain,\nand the dealer ran out of the room as fast as he could, thinking that\nhe had the devil behind him.\n\nIn one instance three young noblemen applied to Faustus, having been\nvery desirous to be present at the marriage of the son of the duke of\nBavaria at Mentz, but having overstaid the time, in which it would\nhave been possible by human means to accomplish the journey. Faustus,\nto oblige them, led them into his garden, and, spreading a large\nmantle upon a grass-plot, desired them to step on it, and placed\nhimself in the midst. He then recited a certain form of conjuration.\nAt the same time he conditioned with them, that they should on no\naccount speak to any one at the marriage, and, if spoken to, should\nnot answer again. They were carried invisibly through the air, and\narrived in excellent time. At a certain moment they became visible,\nbut were still bound to silence. One of them however broke the\ninjunction, and amused himself with the courtiers. The consequence was\nthat, when the other two were summoned by the doctor to return, he was\nleft behind. There was something so extraordinary in their sudden\nappearance, and the subsequent disappearance of the others, that he\nwho remained was put in prison, and threatened with the torture the\nnext day, if he would not make a full disclosure. Faustus however\nreturned before break of day, opened the gates of the prison, laid all\nthe guards asleep, and carried off the delinquent in triumph.\n\nOn one occasion Faustus, having resolved to pass a jovial evening,\ntook some of his old college-companions, and invited them to make free\nwith the archbishop of Saltzburgh's cellar. They took a ladder, and\nscaled the wall. They seated themselves round, and placed a\nthree-legged stool, with bottles and glasses in the middle. They were\nin the heart of their mirth, when the butler made his appearance, and\nbegan to cry thieves with all his might. The doctor at once conjured\nhim, so that he could neither speak nor move. There he was obliged to\nsit, while Faustus and his companions tapped every vat in the cellar.\nThey then carried him along with them in triumph. At length they came\nto a lofty tree, where Faustus ordered them to stop; and the butler\nwas in the greatest fright, apprehending that they would do no less\nthan hang him. The doctor however was contented, by his art to place\nhim on the topmost branch, where he was obliged to remain trembling\nand almost dead with the cold, till certain peasants came out to their\nwork, whom he hailed, and finally with great difficulty they rescued\nhim from his painful eminence, and placed him safely on the ground.\n\nOn another occasion Faustus entertained several of the junior members\nof the university of Wittenberg at his chambers. One of them,\nreferring to the exhibition the doctor had made of Alexander the Great\nto the emperor Charles V, said it would gratify him above all things,\nif he could once behold the famous Helen of Greece, whose beauty was\nso great as to have roused all the princes of her country to arms, and\nto have occasioned a ten years' war. Faustus consented to indulge his\ncuriosity, provided all the company would engage to be merely mute\nspectators of the scene. This being promised, he left the room, and\npresently brought in Helen. She was precisely as Homer has described\nher, when she stood by the side of Priam on the walls of Troy, looking\non the Grecian chiefs. Her features were irresistibly attractive; and\nher full, moist lips were redder than the summer cherries. Faustus\nshortly after obliged his guests with her bust in marble, from which\nseveral copies were taken, no one knowing the name of the original\nartist.\n\nNo long time elapsed after this, when the doctor was engaged in\ndelivering a course of lectures on Homer at Erfurth, one of the\nprincipal cities of Germany. It having been suggested to him that it\nwould very much enhance the interest of his lectures, if he would\nexhibit to the company the heroes of Greece exactly as they appeared\nto their contemporaries, Faustus obligingly yielded to the proposal.\nThe heroes of the Trojan war walked in procession before the\nastonished auditors, no less lively in the representation than Helen\nhad been shewn before, and each of them with some characteristic\nattitude and striking expression of countenance.\n\nWhen the doctor happened to be at Frankfort, there came there four\nconjurors, who obtained vast applause by the trick of cutting off one\nanother's heads, and fastening them on again. Faustus was exasperated\nat this proceeding, and regarded them as laying claim to a skill\nsuperior to his own. He went, and was invisibly present at their\nexhibition. They placed beside them a vessel with liquor which they\npretended was the elixir of life, into which at each time they threw a\nplant resembling the lily, which no sooner touched the liquor than its\nbuds began to unfold, and shortly it appeared in full blossom. The\nchief conjuror watched his opportunity; and, when the charm was\ncomplete, made no more ado but struck off the head of his fellow that\nwas next to him, and dipping it in the liquor, adjusted it to the\nshoulders, where it became as securely fixed as before the operation.\nThis was repeated a second and a third time. At length it came to the\nturn of the chief conjuror to have his head smitten off. Faustus stood\nby invisibly, and at the proper time broke off the flower of the lily\nwithout any one being aware of it. The head therefore of the principal\nconjuror was struck off; but in vain was it steeped in the liquor. The\nother conjurors were at a loss to account for the disappearance of the\nlily, and fumbled for a long time with the old sorcerer's head, which\nwould not stick on in any position in which it could be placed.\n\nFaustus was in great favour with the Prince of Anhalt. On one occasion,\nafter residing some days in his court, he said to the prince, \"Will\nyour highness do me the favour to partake of a small collation at a\ncastle which belongs to me out at your city-gates?\" The prince\ngraciously consented. The prince and princess accompanied the doctor,\nand found a castle which Faustus had erected by magic during the\npreceding night. The castle, with five lofty towers, and two great\ngates, inclosing a spacious court, stood in the midst of a beautiful\nlake, stocked with all kinds of fish, and every variety of water-fowl.\nThe court exhibited all sorts of animals, beside birds of every colour\nand song, which flitted from tree to tree. The doctor then ushered his\nguests into the hall, with an ample suite of apartments, branching off\non each side. In one of the largest they found a banquet prepared,\nwith the pope's plate of gold, which Mephostophiles had borrowed for\nthe day. The viands were of the most delicious nature, with the\nchoicest wines in the world. The banquet being over, Faustus conducted\nthe prince and princess back to the palace. But, before they had gone\nfar, happening to turn their heads, they saw the whole castle blown up,\nand all that had been prepared for the occasion vanish at once in a\nvast volume of fire.\n\nOne Christmas-time Faustus gave a grand entertainment to certain\ndistinguished persons of both sexes at Wittenberg. To render the scene\nmore splendid, he contrived to exhibit a memorable inversion of the\nseasons. As the company approached the doctor's house, they were\nsurprised to find, though there was a heavy snow through the\nneighbouring fields, that Faustus's court and garden bore not the\nleast marks of the season, but on the contrary were green and blooming\nas in the height of summer. There was an appearance of the freshest\nvegetation, together with a beautiful vineyard, abounding with grapes,\nfigs, raspberries, and an exuberance of the finest fruits. The large,\nred Provence roses, were as sweet to the scent as the eye, and looked\nperfectly fresh and sparkling with dew.\n\nAs Faustus was now approaching the last year of his term, he seemed to\nresolve to pamper his appetite with every species of luxury. He\ncarefully accumulated all the materials of voluptuousness and\nmagnificence. He was particularly anxious in the selection of women\nwho should serve for his pleasures. He had one Englishwoman, one\nHungarian, one French, two of Germany, and two from different parts of\nItaly, all of them eminent for the perfections which characterised\ntheir different countries.\n\nAs Faustus's demeanour was particularly engaging, there were many\nrespectable persons in the city in which he lived, that became\ninterested in his welfare. These applied to a certain monk of\nexemplary purity of life and devotion, and urged him to do every thing\nhe could to rescue the doctor from impending destruction. The monk\nbegan with him with tender and pathetic remonstrances. He then drew a\nfearful picture of the wrath of God, and the eternal damnation which\nwould certainly ensue. He reminded the doctor of his extraordinary\ngifts and graces, and told him how different an issue might reasonably\nhave been expected from him. Faustus listened attentively to all the\ngood monk said, but replied mournfully that it was too late, that he\nhad despised and insulted the Lord, that he had deliberately sealed a\nsolemn compact to the devil, and that there was no possibility of\ngoing back. The monk answered, \"You are mistaken. Cry to the Lord for\ngrace; and it shall still be given. Shew true remorse; confess your\nsins; abstain for the future from all acts of sorcery and diabolical\ninterference; and you may rely on final salvation.\" The doctor however\nfelt that all endeavours would be hopeless, He found in himself an\nincapacity, for true repentance. And finally the devil came to him,\nreproached him for breach of contract in listening to the pious\nexpostulations of a saint, threatened that in case of infidelity he\nwould take him away to hell even before his time, and frightened the\ndoctor into the act of signing a fresh contract in ratification of\nthat which he had signed before.\n\nAt length Faustus ultimately arrived at the end of the term for which\nhe had contracted with the devil. For two or three years before it\nexpired, his character gradually altered. He became subject to fits of\ndespondency, was no longer susceptible of mirth and amusement, and\nreflected with bitter agony on the close in which the whole must\nterminate. During the last month of his period, he no longer sought\nthe services of his infernal ally, but with the utmost unwillingness\nsaw his arrival. But Mephostophiles now attended him unbidden, and\ntreated him with biting scoffs and reproaches. \"You have well studied\nthe Scriptures,\" he said, \"and ought to have known that your safety\nlay in worshipping God alone. You sinned with your eyes open, and can\nby no means plead ignorance. You thought that twenty-four years was a\nterm that would have no end; and you now see how rapidly it is\nflitting away. The term for which you sold yourself to the devil is a\nvery different thing; and, after the lapse of thousands of ages, the\nprospect before you will be still as unbounded as ever. You were\nwarned; you were earnestly pressed to repent; but now it is too late.\"\n\nAfter the demon, Mephostophiles, had long tormented Faustus in this\nmanner, he suddenly disappeared, consigning him over to wretchedness,\nvexation and despair.\n\nThe whole twenty-four years were now expired. The day before,\nMephostophiles again made his appearance, holding in his hand the bond\nwhich the doctor had signed with his blood, giving him notice that the\nnext day, the devil, his master, would come for him, and advising him\nto hold himself in readiness. Faustus, it seems, had earned himself\nmuch good will among the younger members of the university by his\nagreeable manners, by his willingness to oblige them, and by the\nextraordinary spectacles with which he occasionally diverted them.\nThis day he resolved to pass in a friendly farewel. He invited a\nnumber of them to meet him at a house of public reception, in a hamlet\nadjoining to the city. He bespoke a large room in the house for a\nbanqueting room, another apartment overhead for his guests to sleep in,\nand a smaller chamber at a little distance for himself. He furnished\nhis table with abundance of delicacies and wines. He endeavoured to\nappear among them in high spirits; but his heart was inwardly sad.\n\nWhen the entertainment was over, Faustus addressed them, telling them\nthat this was the last day of his life, reminding them of the wonders\nwith which he had frequently astonished them, and informing them of\nthe condition upon which he had held this power. They, one and all,\nexpressed the deepest sorrow at the intelligence. They had had the\nidea of something unlawful in his proceedings; but their notions had\nbeen very far from coming up to the truth. They regretted exceedingly\nthat he had not been unreserved in his communications at an earlier\nperiod. They would have had recourse in his behalf to the means of\nreligion, and have applied to pious men, desiring them to employ their\npower to intercede with heaven in his favour. Prayer and penitence\nmight have done much for him; and the mercy of heaven was unbounded.\nThey advised him still to call upon God, and endeavour to secure an\ninterest in the merits of the Saviour.\n\nFaustus assured them that it was all in vain, and that his tragical\nfate was inevitable. He led them to their sleeping apartment, and\nrecommended to them to pass the night as they could, but by no means,\nwhatever they might happen to hear, to come out of it; as their\ninterference could in no way be beneficial to him, and might be\nattended with the most serious injury to themselves. They lay still\ntherefore, as he had enjoined them; but not one of them could close\nhis eyes.\n\nBetween twelve and one in the night they heard first a furious storm\nof wind round all sides of the house, as if it would have torn away\nthe walls from their foundations. This no sooner somewhat abated, than\na noise was heard of discordant and violent hissing, as if the house\nwas full of all sorts of venomous reptiles, but which plainly\nproceeded from Faustus's chamber. Next they heard the doctor's\nroom-door vehemently burst open, and cries for help uttered with\ndreadful agony, but a half-suppressed voice, which presently grew\nfainter and fainter. Then every thing became still, as if the\neverlasting motion of the world was suspended.\n\nWhen at length it became broad day, the students went in a body into\nthe doctor's apartment. But he was no where to be seen. Only the walls\nwere found smeared with his blood, and marks as if his brains had been\ndashed out. His body was finally discovered at some distance from the\nhouse, his limbs dismembered, and marks of great violence about the\nfeatures of his face. The students gathered up the mutilated parts of\nhis body, and afforded them private burial at the temple of Mars in\nthe village where he died.\n\nA ludicrous confusion of ideas has been produced by some persons from\nthe similarity of names of Faustus, the supposed magician of\nWittenberg, and Faust or Fust of Mentz, the inventor, or first\nestablisher of the art of printing. It has been alleged that the exact\nresemblance of the copies of books published by the latter, when no\nother mode of multiplying copies was known but by the act of\ntranscribing, was found to be such, as could no way be accounted for\nby natural means, and that therefore it was imputed to the person who\npresented these copies, that he must necessarily be assisted by the\ndevil. It has further been stated, that Faust, the printer, swore the\ncraftsmen he employed at his press to inviolable secrecy, that he\nmight the more securely keep up the price of his books. But this\nnotion of the identity of the two persons is entirely groundless.\nFaustus, the magician, is described in the romance as having been born\nin 1491, twenty-five years after the period at which the printer is\nunderstood to have died, and there is no one coincidence between the\nhistories of the two persons, beyond the similarity of names, and a\ncertain mystery (or magical appearance) that inevitably adheres to the\npractice of an art hitherto unknown. If any secret reference had been\nintended in the romance to the real character of the illustrious\nintroducer of an art which has been productive of such incalculable\nbenefits to mankind, it would be impossible to account for such a\nmarvellous inconsistence in the chronology.\n\nOthers have carried their scepticism so far, as to have started a\ndoubt whether there was ever really such a person as Faustus of\nWittenberg, the alleged magician. But the testimony of Wierus, Philip\nCamerarius, Melancthon and others, his contemporaries, sufficiently\nrefutes this supposition. The fact is, that there was undoubtedly such\na man, who, by sleights of dexterity, made himself a reputation as if\nthere was something supernatural in his performances, and that he was\nprobably also regarded with a degree of terror and abhorrence by the\nsuperstitious. On this theme was constructed a romance, which once\npossessed the highest popularity, and furnished a subject to the\ndramatical genius of Marlow, Leasing, Goethe, and others.--It is\nsufficiently remarkable, that the notoriety of this romance seems to\nhave suggested to Shakespear the idea of sending the grand conception\nof his brain, Hamlet, prince of Denmark, to finish his education at\nthe university of Wittenberg.\n\nAnd here it may not be uninstructive to remark the different tone\nof the record of the acts of Ziito, the Bohemian, and Faustus of\nWittenburg, though little more than half a century elapsed between\nthe periods at which they were written. Dubravius, bishop of Olmutz\nin Moravia, to whose pen we are indebted for what we know of Ziito,\ndied in the year 1553. He has deemed it not unbecoming to record in\nhis national history of Bohemia, the achievements of this magician,\nwho, he says, exhibited them before Wenceslaus, king of the country,\nat the celebration of his marriage. A waggon-load of sorcerers arrived\nat Prague on that occasion for the entertainment of the company. But,\nat the close of that century, the exploits of Faustus were no longer\ndeemed entitled to a place in national history, but were more\nappropriately taken for the theme of a romance. Faustus and his\nperformances were certainly contemplated with at least as much horror\nas the deeds of Ziito. But popular credulity was no longer wound to\nso high a pitch: the marvels effected by Faustus are not represented\nas challenging the observation of thousands at a public court, and\non the occasion of a royal festival. They \"hid their diminished heads,\"\nand were performed comparatively in a corner.\n\n\nSABELLICUS.\n\nA pretended magician is recorded by Naud\u00e9, as living about this time,\nnamed Georgius Sabellicus, who, he says, if loftiness and arrogance\nof assumption were enough to establish a claim to the possession of\nsupernatural gifts, would beyond all controversy be recognised for\na chief and consummate sorcerer. It was his ambition by the most\nsounding appellations of this nature to advance his claim to immortal\nreputation. He called himself, \"The most accomplished Georgius\nSabellicus, a second Faustus, the spring and centre of necromantic\nart, an astrologer, a magician, consummate in chiromancy, and in\nagromancy, pyromancy and hydromancy inferior to none that ever lived.\"\nI mention this the rather, as affording an additional proof how highly\nFaustus was rated at the time in which he is said to have flourished.\n\nIt is specially worthy of notice, that Naud\u00e9, whose book is a sort\nof register of all the most distinguished names in the annals of\nnecromancy, drawn up for the purpose of vindicating their honour,\nnow here [Errata: _read_ no where] mentions Faustus, except once\nin this slight and cursory way.\n\n\nPARACELSUS\n\nParacelsus, or, as he styled himself, Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus\nBombastus Paracelsus de Hohenheim, was a man of great notoriety and\neminence, about the same time as Dr. Faustus. He was born in the year\n1493, and died in 1541. His father is said to have lived in some\nrepute; but the son early became a wanderer in the world, passing\nhis youth in the occupation of foretelling future events by the stars\nand by chiromancy, invoking the dead, and performing various operations\nof alchemy and magic. He states Trithemius to have been his instructor\nin the science of metals. He was superficial in literature, and says\nof himself that at one time he did not open a book for ten years\ntogether. He visited the mines of Bohemia, Sweden and the East to\nperfect himself in metallic knowledge. He travelled through Prussia,\nLithuania, Poland, Transylvania and Illyria, conversing indifferently\nwith physicians and old women, that he might extract from them the\npractical secrets of their art. He visited Egypt, Tartary and\nConstantinople, at which last place, as he says, he learned the\ntransmutation of metals and the philosopher's stone. He boasts also\nof the elixir of life, by means of which he could prolong the life\nof man to the age of the antediluvians. He certainly possessed\nconsiderable sagacity and a happy spirit of daring, which induced\nhim to have recourse to the application of mercury and opium in the\ncure of diseases, when the regular physicians did not venture on the\nuse of them. He therefore was successfully employed by certain eminent\npersons in desperate cases, and was consulted by Erasmus. He gradually\nincreased in fame, and in the year 1526 was chosen professor of natural\nphilosophy and surgery in the university of Bale. Here he delivered\nlectures in a very bold and presumptuous style. He proclaimed himself\nthe monarch of medicine, and publicly burned the writings of Galen\nand Avicenna as pretenders and impostors.\n\nThis however was the acme of his prosperity. His system was extremely\npopular for one year; but then he lost himself by brutality and\nintemperance. He had drunk water only for the first five-and-twenty\nyears of his life; but now indulged himself in beastly crapulence\nwith the dregs of society, and scarcely ever took off his clothes\nby day or night. After one year therefore spent at Bale, he resumed\nhis former vagabond life, and, having passed through many vicissitudes,\nsome of them of the most abject poverty, he died at the age of\nforty-eight.\n\nParacelsus in fact exhibited in his person the union of a quack, a\nboastful and impudent pretender, with a considerable degree of natural\nsagacity and shrewdness. Such an union is not uncommon in the present\nday; but it was more properly in its place, when the cultivation of\nthe faculties of the mind was more restricted than now, and the law\nof criticism of facts and evidence was nearly unknown. He took\nadvantage of the credulity and love of wonder incident to the\ngenerality of our species; and, by dint of imposing on others,\nsucceeded in no small degree in imposing on himself. His intemperance\nand arrogance of demeanour gave the suitable finish to his character.\nHe therefore carefully cherished in those about him the idea that\nthere was in him a kind of supernatural virtue, and that he had the\nagents of an invisible world at his command. In particular he gave\nout that he held conferences with a familiar or demon, whom for the\nconvenience of consulting he was in the habit of carrying about with\nhim in the hilt of his sword.\n\n\nCARDAN.\n\nJerome Cardan, who was only a few years younger than Paracelsus, was\na man of a very different character. He had considerable refinement\nand discrimination, and ranked among the first scholars of his day.\nHe is however most of all distinguished for the Memoirs he has left\nus of his life, which are characterised by a frankness and unreserve\nwhich are almost without a parallel. He had undoubtedly a considerable\nspice of madness in his composition. He says of himself, that he was\nliable to extraordinary fits of abstraction and elevation of mind,\nwhich by their intenseness became so intolerable, that he gladly had\nrecourse to very severe bodily pain by way of getting rid of them.\nThat in such cases he would bite his lips till they bled, twist his\nfingers almost to dislocation, and whip his legs with rods, which\nhe found a great relief to him. That he would talk purposely of\nsubjects which he knew were particularly offensive to the company\nhe was in; that he argued on any side of a subject, without caring\nwhether he was right or wrong; and that he would spend whole nights\nin gaming, often venturing as the stake he played for, the furniture\nof his house, and his wife's jewels.\n\nCardan describes three things of himself, which he habitually\nexperienced, but respecting which he had never unbosomed himself to\nany of his friends. The first was, a capacity which he felt in himself\nof abandoning his body in a sort of extacy whenever he pleased. He\nfelt in these cases a sort of splitting of the heart, as if his soul\nwas about to withdraw, the sensation spreading over his whole frame,\nlike the opening of a door for the dismissal of its guest. His\napprehension was, that he was out of his body, and that by an\nenergetic exertion he still retained a small hold of his corporeal\nfigure. The second of his peculiarities was, that he saw, when he\npleased, whatever he desired to see, not through the force of\nimagination, but with his material organs: he saw groves, animals,\norbs, as he willed. When he was a child, he saw these things, as they\noccurred, without any previous volition or anticipation that such\na thing was about to happen. But, after he had arrived at years of\nmaturity, he saw them only when he desired, and such things as he\ndesired. These images were in perpetual succession, one after another.\nThe thing incidental to him which he mentions in the third place was,\nthat he could not recollect any thing that ever happened to him,\nwhether good, ill, or indifferent, of which he had not been admonished,\nand that a very short time before, in a dream. These things serve\nto shew of what importance he was in his own eyes, and also, which\nis the matter he principally brings it to prove, the subtlety and\ndelicacy of his animal nature.\n\nCardan speaks uncertainly and contradictorily as to his having a\ngenius or demon perpetually attending him, advising him of what was\nto happen, and forewarning him of sinister events. He concludes\nhowever that he had no such attendant, but that it was the excellence\nof his nature, approaching to immortality. He was much addicted to\nthe study of astrology, and laid claim to great skill as a physician.\nHe visited the court of London, and calculated the nativity of king\nEdward VI. He was sent for as a physician by cardinal Beaton,\narchbishop of St Andrews, whom, according to Melvile, [208] he\nrecovered to speech and health, and the historian appears to attribute\nthe cure to magic. He calculated the nativity of Jesus Christ, which\nwas imputed to him as an impious undertaking, inasmuch as it supposed\nthe creator of the world to be subject to the influence of the stars.\nHe also predicted his own death, and is supposed by some to have\nforwarded that event, by abstinence from food at the age of\nseventy-five, that he might not bely his prediction.\n\n\nQUACKS, WHO IN COOL BLOOD UNDERTOOK TO OVERREACH MANKIND.\n\nHitherto we have principally passed such persons in review, as seem\nto have been in part at least the victims of their own delusions.\nBut beside these there has always been a numerous class of men, who,\nwith minds perfectly disengaged and free, have applied themselves\nto concert the means of overreaching the simplicity, or baffling the\npenetration, of those who were merely spectators, and uninitiated\nin the mystery of the arts that were practised upon them. Such was\nno doubt the case with the speaking heads and statues, which were\nsometimes exhibited in the ancient oracles. Such was the case with\ncertain optical delusions, which were practised on the unsuspecting,\nand were contrived to produce on them the effect of supernatural\nrevelations. Such is the story of Bel and the Dragon in the book of\nApocrypha, where the priests daily placed before the idol twelve\nmeasures of flour, and forty sheep, and six vessels of wine,\npretending that the idol consumed all these provisions, when in fact\nthey entered the temple by night, by a door under the altar, and\nremoved them.\n\n\nBENVENUTO CELLINI.\n\nWe have a story minutely related by Benvenuto Cellini in his Life,\nwhich it is now known was produced by optical delusion, but which\nwas imposed upon the artist and his companions as altogether\nsupernatural. It occurred a very short time before the death of pope\nClement the Seventh in 1534, and is thus detailed. It took place in\nthe Coliseum at Rome.\n\n\"It came to pass through a variety of odd accidents, that I made\nacquaintance with a Sicilian priest, who was a man of genius, and\nwell versed in the Greek and Latin languages. Happening one day to\nhave some conversation with him, where the subject turned upon the\nart of necromancy, I, who had a great desire to know something of\nthe matter, told him, that I had all my life had a curiosity to be\nacquainted with the mysteries of this art. The priest made answer,\nthat the man must be of a resolute and steady temper, who entered\non that study. I replied, that I had fortitude and resolution enough\nto desire to be initiated in it. The priest subjoined, 'If you think\nyou have the heart to venture, I will give you all the satisfaction\nyou can desire.' Thus we agreed to enter upon a scheme of necromancy.\n\n\"The priest one evening prepared to satisfy me, and desired me to\nlook for a companion or two. I invited one Vincenzio Romoli, who was\nmy intimate acquaintance, and he brought with him a native of Pistoia\nwho cultivated the art of necromancy himself. We repaired to the\nColiseum; and the priest, according to the custom of conjurors, began\nto draw circles on the ground, with the most impressive ceremonies\nimaginable. He likewise brought with him all sorts of precious\nperfumes and fire, with some compositions which diffused noisome and\nbad odours. As soon as he was in readiness, he made an opening to\nthe circle, and took us by the hand, and ordered the other\nnecromancer, his partner, to throw perfumes into the fire at a proper\ntime, intrusting the care of the fire and the perfumes to the rest;\nand then he began his incantations.\n\n\"This ceremony lasted above an hour and a half, when there appeared\nseveral legions of devils, so that the amphitheatre was quite filled\nwith them. I was busy about the perfumes, when the priest, who knew\nthat there was a sufficient number of infernal spirits, turned about\nto me, and said, 'Benvenuto, ask them something.' I answered, 'Let\nthem bring me into company with my Sicilian mistress, Angelica.' That\nnight we obtained no answer of any sort; but I received great\nsatisfaction in having my curiosity so far indulged.\n\n\"The necromancer told me that it was requisite we should go a second\ntime, assuring me that I should be satisfied in whatever I asked; but\nthat I must bring with me a boy that had never known woman. I took\nwith me my apprentice, who was about twelve years of age; with the\nsame Vincenzio Romoli, who had been my companion the first time, and\none Agnolino Gaddi, an intimate acquaintance, whom I likewise\nprevailed on to assist at the ceremony. When we came to the place\nappointed, the priest, having made his preparations as before with the\nsame and even more striking ceremonies, placed us within the circle,\nwhich he had drawn with a more wonderful art and in a more solemn\nmanner, than at our former meeting. Thus having committed the care of\nthe perfumes and the fire to my friend Vincenzio, who was assisted by\nGaddi, he put into my hands a pintacolo, or magical chart, and bid me\nturn it towards the places to which he should direct me; and under the\npintacolo I held my apprentice. The necromancer, having begun to make\nhis most tremendous invocations, called by their names a multitude of\ndemons who were the leaders of the several legions, and questioned\nthem, by the virtue and power of the eternal, uncreated God, who lives\nfor ever, in the Hebrew language, as also in Latin and Greek; insomuch\nthat the amphitheatre was filled, almost in an instant, with demons a\nhundred times more numerous than at the former conjuration. Vincenzio\nmeanwhile was busied in making a fire with the assistance of Gaddi,\nand burning a great quantity of precious perfumes. I, by the direction\nof the necromancer, again desired to be in company with my Angelica.\nHe then turning upon me said, 'Know, they have declared that in the\nspace of a month you shall be in her company.'\n\n\"He then requested me to stand by him resolutely, because the legions\nwere now above a thousand more in number than he had designed; and\nbesides these were the most dangerous; so that, after they had\nanswered my question, it behoved him to be civil to them, and dismiss\nthem quietly. At the same time the boy under the pintacolo was in a\nterrible fright, saying, that there were in the place a million of\nfierce men who threatened to destroy us; and that, besides, there were\nfour armed giants of enormous stature, who endeavoured to break into\nour circle. During this time, while the necromancer, trembling with\nfear, endeavoured by mild means to dismiss them in the best way he\ncould, Vincenzio, who quivered like an aspen leaf, took care of the\nperfumes. Though I was as much afraid as any of them, I did my utmost\nto conceal it; so that I greatly contributed to inspire the rest with\nresolution; but the truth is, I gave myself over for a dead man,\nseeing the horrid fright the necromancer was in.\n\n\"The boy had placed his head between his knees; and said, 'In this\nattitude will I die; for we shall all surely perish.' I told him that\nthose demons were under us, and what he saw was smoke and shadow; so\nbid him hold up his head and take courage. No sooner did he look up,\nthan he cried out, 'The whole amphitheatre is burning, and the fire is\njust falling on us.' So, covering his eyes with his hands, he again\nexclaimed, that destruction was inevitable, and he desired to see no\nmore. The necromancer intreated me to have a good heart, and to take\ncare to burn proper perfumes; upon which I turned to Vincenzio, and\nbade him burn all the most precious perfumes he had. At the same time\nI cast my eyes upon Gaddi, who was terrified to such a degree, that he\ncould scarcely distinguish objects, and seemed to be half dead. Seeing\nhim in this condition, I said to him, 'Gaddi, upon these occasions a\nman should not yield to fear, but stir about to give some assistance;\nso come directly, and put on more of these perfumes.' Gaddi accordingly\nattempted to move; but the effect was annoying both to our sense of\nhearing and smell, and overcame the perfumes.\n\n\"The boy perceiving this, once more ventured to raise his head, and,\nseeing me laugh, began to take courage, and said, 'The devils are\nflying away with a vengeance.' In this condition we staid, till the\nbell rang for morning prayers. The boy again told us, that there\nremained but few devils, and those were at a great distance. When the\nmagician had performed the rest of his ceremonies, he stripped off his\ngown, and took up a wallet full of books, which he had brought with\nhim. We all went out of the circle together, keeping as close to each\nother as we possibly could, especially the boy, who placed himself in\nthe middle, holding the necromancer by the coat, and me by the cloak.\n\n\"As we were going to our houses in the quarter of Banchi, the boy told\nus, that two of the demons whom we had seen at the amphitheatre, went\non before us leaping and skipping, sometimes running upon the roofs of\nthe houses, and sometimes on the ground. The priest declared that, as\noften as he had entered magic circles, nothing so extraordinary had\never happened to him. As we went along, he would fain have persuaded\nme to assist at the consecrating a book, from which he said we should\nderive immense riches. We should then ask the demons to discover to us\nthe various treasures with which the earth abounds, which would raise\nus to opulence and power; but that those love-affairs were mere\nfollies from which no good could be expected. I made answer, that I\nwould readily have accepted his proposal if I had understood Latin. He\nassured me that the knowledge of Latin was nowise material; but that\nhe could never meet with a partner of resolution and intrepidity equal\nto mine, and that that would be to him an invaluable acquisition.\"\nImmediately subsequent to this scene, Cellini got into one of those\nscrapes, in which he was so frequently involved by his own violence\nand ferocity; and the connection was never again renewed.\n\nThe first remark that arises out of this narrative is, that nothing is\nactually done by the supernatural personages which are exhibited. The\nmagician reports certain answers as given by the demons; but these\nanswers do not appear to have been heard from any lips but those of\nhim who was the creator or cause of the scene. The whole of the demons\ntherefore were merely figures, produced by the magic lantern (which is\nsaid to have been invented by Roger Bacon), or by something of that\nnature. The burning of the perfumes served to produce a dense\natmosphere, that was calculated to exaggerate, and render more\nformidable and terrific, the figures which were exhibited. The magic\nlantern, which is now the amusement only of servant-maids, and boys at\nschool in their holidays, served at this remote period, and when the\npower of optical delusions was unknown, to terrify men of wisdom and\npenetration, and make them believe that legions of devils from the\ninfernal regions were come among them, to produce the most horrible\neffects, and suspend and invert the laws of nature. It is probable,\nthat the magician, who carried home with him a \"wallet full of books,\"\nalso carried at the same time the magic lantern or mirror, with its\nlights, which had served him for his exhibition, and that this was the\ncause of the phenomenon, that they observed two of the demons which\nthey had seen at the amphitheatre, going before them on their return,\n\"leaping and skipping, sometimes running on the roofs of the houses,\nand sometimes on the ground.\" [209]\n\n\nNOSTRADAMUS.\n\nMichael Nostradamus, a celebrated astrologer, was born at St. Remi in\nProvence in the year 1503. He published a Century of Prophecies in\nobscure and oracular terms and barbarous verse, and other works. In\nthe period in which he lived the pretended art of astrological\nprediction was in the highest repute; and its professors were sought\nfor by emperors and kings, and entertained with the greatest\ndistinction and honour. Henry the Second of France, moved with his\ngreat renown, sent for Nostradamus to court, received much\ngratification from his visit, and afterward ordered him to Blois, that\nhe might see the princes, his sons, calculate their horoscopes, and\npredict their future fortunes. He was no less in favour afterwards\nwith Charles the Ninth. He died in the year 1566.\n\n\nDOCTOR DEE.\n\nDr. John Dee was a man who made a conspicuous figure in the sixteenth\ncentury. He was born at London in the year 1527. He was an eminent\nmathematician, and an indefatigable scholar. He says of himself, that,\nhaving been sent to Cambridge when he was fifteen, he persisted for\nseveral years in allowing himself only four hours for sleep in the\ntwenty-four, and two for food and refreshment, and that he constantly\noccupied the remaining eighteen (the time for divine service only\nexcepted) in study. At Cambridge he superintended the exhibition of a\nGreek play of Aristophanes, among the machinery of which he introduced\nan artificial scarabaeus, or beetle, which flew up to the palace of\nJupiter, with a man on his back, and a basket of provisions. The\nignorant and astonished spectators ascribed this feat to the arts of\nthe magician; and Dee, annoyed by these suspicions, found it expedient\nto withdraw to the continent. Here he resided first at the university\nof Louvaine, at which place, his acquaintance was courted by the dukes\nof Mantua and Medina, and from thence proceeded to Paris, where he\ngave lectures on Euclid with singular applause.\n\nIn 1551 he returned to England, and was received with distinction by\nsir John Check, and introduced to secretary Cecil, and even to king\nEdward, from whom he received a pension of one hundred crowns _per\nannum_, which he speedily after exchanged for a small living in the\nchurch. In the reign of queen Mary he was for some time kindly\ntreated; but afterwards came into great trouble, and even into danger\nof his life. He entered into correspondence with several of the\nservants of queen Elizabeth at Woodstock, and was charged with\npractising against Mary's life by enchantments. Upon this accusation,\nhe was seized and confined; and, being after several examinations\ndischarged of the indictment, was turned over to bishop Bonner to see\nif any heresy could be found in him. After a tedious persecution he\nwas set at liberty in 1555, and was so little subdued by what he had\nsuffered, that in the following year he presented a petition to the\nqueen, requesting her co-operation in a plan for preserving and\nrecovering certain monuments of classical antiquity.\n\nThe principal study of Dee however at this time lay in astrology; and\naccordingly, upon the accession of Elizabeth, Robert Dudley, her chief\nfavourite, was sent to consult the doctor as to the aspect of the\nstars, that they might fix on an auspicious day for celebrating her\ncoronation. Some years after we find him again on the continent; and\nin 1571, being taken ill at Louvaine, we are told the queen sent over\ntwo physicians to accomplish his cure. Elizabeth afterwards visited\nhim at his house at Mortlake, that she might view his magazine of\nmathematical instruments and curiosities; and about this time employed\nhim to defend her title to countries discovered in different parts of\nthe globe. He says of himself, that he received the most advantageous\noffers from Charles V, Ferdinand, Maximilian II, and Rodolph II,\nemperors of Germany, and from the czar of Muscovy an offer of L.2000\nsterling _per annum_, upon condition that he would reside in his\ndominions. All these circumstances were solemnly attested by Dee in a\nCompendious Rehearsal of his Life and Studies for half-a-century,\ncomposed at a later period, and read by him at his house at Mortlake\nto two commissioners appointed by Elizabeth to enquire into his\ncircumstances, accompanied with evidences and documents to establish\nthe particulars. [210]\n\nHad Dee gone no further than this, he would undoubtedly have ranked\namong the profoundest scholars and most eminent geniuses that adorned\nthe reign of the maiden queen. But he was unfortunately cursed with an\nambition that nothing could satisfy; and, having accustomed his mind\nto the wildest reveries, and wrought himself up to an extravagant\npitch of enthusiasm, he pursued a course that involved him in much\ncalamity, and clouded all his latter days with misery and ruin. He\ndreamed perpetually of the philosopher's stone, and was haunted with\nthe belief of intercourse of a supramundane character. It is almost\nimpossible to decide among these things, how much was illusion, and\nhow much was forgery. Both were inextricably mixed in his proceedings;\nand this extraordinary victim probably could not in his most\ndispassionate moments precisely distinguish what belonged to the one,\nand what to the other.\n\nAs Dee was an enthusiast, so he perpetually interposed in his\nmeditations prayers of the greatest emphasis and fervour. As he was\none day in November 1582, engaged in these devout exercises, he says\nthat there appeared to him the angel Uriel at the west window of his\nMuseum, who gave him a translucent stone, or chrystal, of a convex\nform, that had the quality, when intently surveyed, of presenting\napparitions, and even emitting sounds, in consequence of which the\nobserver could hold conversations, ask questions and receive answers\nfrom the figures he saw in the mirror. It was often necessary that the\nstone should be turned one way and another in different positions,\nbefore the person who consulted it gained the right focus; and then\nthe objects to be observed would sometimes shew themselves on the\nsurface of the stone, and sometime in different parts of the room by\nvirtue of the action of the stone. It had also this peculiarity, that\nonly one person, having been named as seer, could see the figures\nexhibited, and hear the voices that spoke, though there might be\nvarious persons in the room. It appears that the person who discerned\nthese visions must have his eyes and his ears uninterruptedly engaged\nin the affair, so that, as Dee experienced, to render the communication\neffectual, there must be two human beings concerned in the scene, one\nof them to describe what he saw, and to recite the dialogue that took\nplace, and the other immediately to commit to paper all that his\npartner dictated. Dee for some reason chose for himself the part of\nthe amanuensis, and had to seek for a companion, who was to watch the\nstone, and repeat to him whatever he saw and heard.\n\nIt happened opportunely that, a short time before Dee received this\ngift from on high, he contracted a familiar intercourse with one\nEdward Kelly of Worcestershire, whom he found specially qualified to\nperform the part which it was necessary to Dee to have adequately\nfilled. Kelly was an extraordinary character, and in some respects\nexactly such a person as Dee wanted. He was just twenty-eight years\nyounger than the memorable personage, who now received him as an\ninmate, and was engaged in his service at a stipulated salary of fifty\npounds a year.\n\nKelly entered upon life with a somewhat unfortunate adventure. He was\naccused, when a young man, of forgery, brought to trial, convicted,\nand lost his ears in the pillory. This misfortune however by no means\ndaunted him. He was assiduously engaged in the search for the\nphilosopher's stone. He had an active mind, great enterprise, and a\nvery domineering temper. Another adventure in which he had been\nengaged previously to his knowledge of Dee, was in digging up the body\nof a man, who had been buried only the day before, that he might\ncompel him by incantations, to answer questions, and discover future\nevents. There was this difference therefore between the two persons\npreviously to their league. Dee was a man of regular manners and\nunspotted life, honoured by the great, and favourably noticed by\ncrowned heads in different parts of the world; while Kelly was a\nnotorious profligate, accustomed to the most licentious actions, and\nunder no restraint from morals or principle.\n\nOne circumstance that occurred early in the acquaintance of Kelly and\nDee it is necessary to mention. It serves strikingly to illustrate the\nascendancy of the junior and impetuous party over his more gifted\nsenior. Kelly led Dee, we are not told under what pretence, to visit\nthe celebrated ruins of Glastonbury Abbey in Somersetshire. Here, as\nthese curious travellers searched into every corner of the scene, they\nmet by some rare accident with a vase containing a certain portion of\nthe actual _elixir vitae_, that rare and precious liquid, so much\nsought after, which has the virtue of converting the baser metals into\ngold and silver. It had remained here perhaps ever since the time of\nthe highly-gifted St. Dunstan in the tenth century. This they carried\noff in triumph: but we are not told of any special use to which they\napplied it, till a few years after, when they were both on the\ncontinent.\n\nThe first record of their consultations with the supramundane spirits,\nwas of the date of December 2, 1581, at Lexden Heath in the county of\nEssex; and from this time they went on in a regular series of\nconsultations with and enquiries from these miraculous visitors, a\ngreat part of which will appear to the uninitiated extremely puerile\nand ludicrous, but which were committed to writing with the most\nscrupulous exactness by Dee, the first part still existing in\nmanuscript, but the greater portion from 28 May 1583 to 1608, with\nsome interruptions, having been committed to the press by Dr. Meric\nCasaubon in a well-sized folio in 1659, under the title of \"A True and\nFaithful Relation of what passed between Dr. John Dee and some\nSpirits, tending, had it succeeded, to a general alteration of most\nstates and kingdoms of the world.\"\n\nKelly and Dee had not long been engaged in these supernatural\ncolloquies, before an event occurred which gave an entirely new turn\nto their proceedings. Albert Alaski, a Polish nobleman, lord palatine\nof the principality of Siradia, came over at this time into England,\nurged, as he said, by a desire personally to acquaint himself with the\nglories of the reign of Elizabeth, and the evidences of her unrivalled\ntalents. The queen and her favourite, the earl of Leicester, received\nhim with every mark of courtesy and attention, and, having shewn him\nall the wonders of her court at Westminster and Greenwich, sent him to\nOxford, with a command to the dignitaries and heads of colleges, to\npay him every attention, and to lay open to his view all their rarest\ncuriosities. Among other things worthy of notice, Alaski enquired for\nthe celebrated Dr. Dee, and expressed the greatest impatience to be\nacquainted with him.\n\nJust at this juncture the earl of Leicester happened to spy Dr. Dee\namong the crowd who attended at a royal levee. The earl immediately\nadvanced towards him; and, in his frank manner, having introduced him\nto Alaski, expressed his intention of bringing the Pole to dine with\nthe doctor at his house at Mortlake. Embarrassed with this unexpected\nhonour, Dee no sooner got home, than he dispatched an express to the\nearl, honestly confessing that he should be unable to entertain such\nguests in a suitable manner, without being reduced to the expedient of\nselling or pawning his plate, to procure him the means of doing so.\nLeicester communicated the doctor's perplexity to Elizabeth; and the\nqueen immediately dispatched a messenger with a present of forty\nangels, or twenty pounds, to enable him to receive his guests as\nbecame him.\n\nA great intimacy immediately commenced between Dee and the stranger.\nAlaski, though possessing an extensive territory, was reduced by the\nprodigality of himself or his ancestors to much embarrassment; and on\nthe other hand this nobleman appeared to Dee an instrument well\nqualified to accomplish his ambitious purposes. Alaski was extremely\ndesirous to look into the womb of time; and Dee, it is likely,\nsuggested repeated hints of his extraordinary power from his\npossession of the philosopher's stone. After two or three interviews,\nand much seeming importunity on the part of the Pole, Dee and Kelly\ngraciously condescended to admit Alaski as a third party to their\nsecret meetings with their supernatural visitors, from which the rest\nof the world were carefully excluded. Here the two Englishmen made use\nof the vulgar artifice, of promising extraordinary good fortune to the\nperson of whom they purposed to make use. By the intervention of the\nmiraculous stone they told the wondering traveller, that he should\nshortly become king of Poland, with the accession of several other\nkingdoms, that he should overcome many armies of Saracens and Paynims,\nand prove a mighty conqueror. Dee at the same time complained of the\ndisagreeable condition in which he was at home, and that Burleigh and\nWalsingham were his malicious enemies. At length they concerted among\nthemselves, that they, Alaski, and Dee and Kelly with their wives and\nfamilies, should clandestinely withdraw out of England, and proceed\nwith all practicable rapidity to Alaski's territory in the kingdom of\nPoland. They embarked on this voyage 21 September, and arrived at\nSiradia the third of February following.\n\nAt this place however the strangers remained little more than a month.\nAlaski found his finances in such disorder, that it was scarcely\npossible for him to feed the numerous guests he had brought along with\nhim. The promises of splendid conquests which Dee and Kelly profusely\nheaped upon him, were of no avail to supply the deficiency of his\npresent income. And the elixir they brought from Glastonbury was, as\nthey said, so incredibly rich in virtue, that they were compelled to\nlose much time in making projection by way of trial, before they could\nhope to arrive at the proper temperament for producing the effect they\ndesired.\n\nIn the following month Alaski with his visitors passed to Cracow, the\nresidence of the kings of Poland. Here they remained five months, Dee\nand Kelly perpetually amusing the Pole with the extraordinary virtue\nof the stone, which had been brought from heaven by an angel, and\nbusied in a thousand experiments with the elixir, and many tedious\npreparations which they pronounced to be necessary, before the\ncompound could have the proper effect. The prophecies were uttered\nwith extreme confidence; but no external indications were afforded, to\nshew that in any way they were likely to be realised. The experiments\nand exertions of the laboratory were incessant; but no transmutation\nwas produced. At length Alaski found himself unable to sustain the\ntrain of followers he had brought out of England. With mountains of\nwealth, the treasures of the world promised, they were reduced to the\nmost grievous straits for the means of daily subsistence. Finally the\nzeal of Alaski diminished; he had no longer the same faith in the\nprojectors that had deluded him; and he devised a way of sending them\nforward with letters of recommendation to Rodolph II, emperor of\nGermany, at his imperial seat of Prague, where they arrived on the\nninth of August.\n\nRodolph was a man, whose character and habits of life they judged\nexcellently adapted to their purpose. Dee had a long conference with\nthe emperor, in which he explained to him what wonderful things the\nspirits promised to this prince, in case he proved exemplary of life,\nand obedient to their suggestions, that he should be the greatest\nconqueror in the world, and should take captive the Turk in his city\nof Constantinople. Rodolph was extremely courteous in his reception,\nand sent away Dee with the highest hopes that he had at length found\na personage with whom he should infallibly succeed to the extent of\nhis wishes. He sought however a second interview, and was baffled. At\none time the emperor was going to his country palace near Prague, and\nat another was engaged in the pleasures of the chace.\n\nHe also complained that he was not sufficiently familiar with the\nLatin tongue, to manage the conferences with Dee in a satisfactory\nmanner in person. He therefore deputed Curtzius, a man high in his\nconfidence, to enter into the necessary details with his learned\nvisitor. Dee also contrived to have Spinola, the ambassador from\nMadrid to the court of the emperor, to urge his suit. The final result\nwas that Rodolph declined any further intercourse with Dee. He turned\na deaf ear to his prophecies, and professed to be altogether void of\nfaith as to his promises respecting the philosopher's stone. Dee\nhowever was led on perpetually with hopes of better things from the\nemperor, till the spring of the year 1585. At length he was obliged to\nfly from Prague, the bishop of Placentia, the pope's nuncio, having it\nin command from his holiness to represent to Rodolph how discreditable\nit was for him to harbour English magicians, heretics, at his court.\n\nFrom Prague Dee and his followers proceeded to Cracow. Here he found\nmeans of introduction to Stephen, king of Poland, to whom immediately\nhe insinuated as intelligence from heaven, that Rodolph, the emperor,\nwould speedily be assassinated, and that Stephen would succeed him in\nthe throne of Germany. Stephen appears to have received Dee with more\ncondescension than Rodolph had done, and was once present at his\nincantation and interview with the invisible spirits. Dee also lured\nhim on with promises respecting the philosopher's stone. Meanwhile the\nmagician was himself reduced to the strangest expedients for\nsubsistence. He appears to have daily expected great riches from the\ntransmutation of metals, and was unwilling to confess that he and his\nfamily were in the mean time almost starving.\n\nWhen king Stephen at length became wearied with fruitless expectation,\nDee was fortunate enough to meet with another and more patient dupe in\nRosenburg, a nobleman of considerable wealth at Trebona in the kingdom\nof Bohemia. Here Dee appears to have remained till 1589, when he was\nsent for home by Elizabeth. In what manner he proceeded during this\ninterval, and from whence he drew his supplies, we are only left to\nconjecture. He lured on his victim with the usual temptation,\npromising him that he should be king of Poland. In the mean time it is\nrecorded by him, that, on the ninth of December, 1586, he arrived at\nthe point of projection, having cut a piece of metal out of a brass\nwarming-pan; and merely heating it by the fire, and pouring on it a\nportion of the elixir, it was presently converted into pure silver. We\nare told that he sent the warming-pan and the piece of silver to queen\nElizabeth, that she might be convinced by her own eyes how exactly\nthey tallied, and that the one had unquestionably been a portion of\nthe other. About the same time it is said, that Dee and his associate\nbecame more free in their expenditure; and in one instance it is\nstated as an example, that Kelly gave away to the value of four\nthousand pounds sterling in gold rings on occasion of the celebration\nof the marriage of one of his maid-servants. On the twenty-seventh and\nthirtieth of July, 1587, Dee has recorded in his journal his gratitude\nto God for his unspeakable mercies on those days imparted, which has\nbeen interpreted to mean further acquisitions of wealth by means of\nthe elixir.\n\nMeanwhile perpetual occasions of dissention occurred between the two\ngreat confederates, Kelly and Dee. They were in many respects unfitted\nfor each other's society. Dee was a man, who from his youth upward had\nbeen indefatigable in study and research, had the consciousness of\ngreat talents and intellect, and had been universally recognised as\nsuch, and had possessed a high character for fervent piety and\nblameless morals. Kelly was an impudent adventurer, a man of no\nprinciples and of blasted reputation; yet fertile in resources, full\nof self-confidence, and of no small degree of ingenuity. In their\nmutual intercourse the audacious adventurer often had the upper hand\nof the man who had lately possessed a well-earned reputation. Kelly\nfrequently professed himself tired of enacting the character of\ninterpreter of the Gods under Dee. He found Dee in all cases running\naway with the superior consideration; while he in his own opinion best\ndeserved to possess it. The straitness of their circumstances, and the\nmisery they were occasionally called on to endure, we may be sure did\nnot improve their good understanding. Kelly once and again threatened\nto abandon his leader. Dee continually soothed him, and prevailed on\nhim to stay.\n\nKelly at length started a very extraordinary proposition. Kelly, as\ninterpreter to the spirits, and being the only person who heard and\nsaw any thing, we may presume made them say whatever he pleased. Kelly\nand Dee had both of them wives. Kelly did not always live harmoniously\nwith the partner of his bed. He sometimes went so far as to say that\nhe hated her. Dee was more fortunate. His wife was a person of good\nfamily, and had hitherto been irreproachable in her demeanour. The\nspirits one day revealed to Kelly, that they must henceforth have\ntheir wives in common. The wife of Kelly was barren, and this curse\ncould no otherwise be removed. Having started the proposition, Kelly\nplayed the reluctant party. Dee, who was pious and enthusiastic,\ninclined to submit. He first indeed started the notion, that it could\nonly be meant that they should live in mutual harmony and good\nunderstanding. The spirits protested against this, and insisted upon\nthe literal interpretation. Dee yielded, and compared his case to that\nof Abraham, who at the divine command consented to sacrifice his son\nIsaac. Kelly alleged that these spirits, which Dee had hitherto\nregarded as messengers from God, could be no other than servants of\nSatan. He persisted in his disobedience; and the spirits declared that\nhe was no longer worthy to be their interpreter, and that another\nmediator must be found.\n\nThey named Arthur Dee, the son of the possessor of the stone, a\npromising and well-disposed boy of only eight years of age. Dee\nconsecrated the youth accordingly to his high function by prayers and\nreligious rites for several days together. Kelly took horse and rode\naway, protesting that they should meet no more. Arthur entered upon\nhis office, April 15, 1587. The experiment proved abortive. He saw\nsomething; but not to the purpose. He heard no voices. At length\nKelly, on the third day, entered the room unexpectedly, \"by miraculous\nfortune,\" as Dee says, \"or a divine fate,\" sate down between them, and\nimmediately saw figures, and heard voices, which the little Arthur was\nnot enabled to perceive. In particular he saw four heads inclosed in\nan obelisk, which he perceived to represent the two magicians and\ntheir wives, and interpreted to signify that unlimited communion in\nwhich they were destined to engage. The matter however being still an\noccasion of scruple, a spirit appeared, who by the language he used\nwas plainly no other than the Saviour of the world, and took away from\nthem the larger stone; for now it appears there were two stones. This\nmiracle at length induced all parties to submit; and the divine\ncommand was no sooner obeyed, than the stone which had been\nabstracted, was found again under the pillow of the wife of Dee.\n\nIt is not easy to imagine a state of greater degradation than that\ninto which this person had now fallen. During all the prime and vigour\nof his intellect, he had sustained an eminent part among the learned\nand the great, distinguished and honoured by Elizabeth and her\nfavourite. But his unbounded arrogance and self-opinion could never be\nsatisfied. And seduced, partly by his own weakness, and partly by the\ninsinuations of a crafty adventurer, he became a mystic of the most\ndishonourable sort. He was induced to believe in a series of\nmiraculous communications without common sense, engaged in the pursuit\nof the philosopher's stone, and no doubt imagined that he was\npossessed of the great secret. Stirred up by these conceptions, he\nleft his native country, and became a wanderer, preying upon the\ncredulity of one prince and eminent man after another, and no sooner\nwas he discarded by one victim of credulity, than he sought another,\na vagabond on the earth, reduced from time to time to the greatest\ndistress, persecuted, dishonoured and despised by every party in their\nturn. At length by incessant degrees he became dead to all moral\ndistinctions, and all sense of honour and self-respect. \"Professing\nhimself to be wise he became a fool, walked in the vanity of his\nimagination,\" and had his understanding under total eclipse. The\nimmoral system of conduct in which he engaged, and the strange and\nshocking blasphemy that he mixed with it, render him at this time a\nsort of character that it is painful to contemplate.\n\nLed on as Dee at this time was by the ascendancy and consummate art of\nKelly, there was far from existing any genuine harmony between them;\nand, after many squabbles and heart-burnings, they appear finally to\nhave parted in January 1589, Dee having, according to his own account,\nat that time delivered up to Kelly, the elixir and the different\nimplements by which the transmutation of metals was to be effected.\n\nVarious overtures appear to have passed now for some years between Dee\nand queen Elizabeth, intended to lead to his restoration to his native\ncountry. Dee had upon different occasions expressed a wish to that\neffect; and Elizabeth in the spring of 1589 sent him a message, that\nremoved from him all further thought of hesitation and delay. He set\nout from Trebona with three coaches, and a baggage train correspondent,\nand had an audience of the queen at Richmond towards the close of that\nyear. Upon the whole it is impossible perhaps not to believe, that\nElizabeth was influenced in this proceeding by the various reports\nthat had reached her of his extraordinary success with the\nphilosopher's stone, and the boundless wealth he had it in his power\nto bestow. Many princes at this time contended with each other, as to\nwho should be happy enough by fair means or by force to have under his\ncontrol the fortunate possessor of the great secret, and thus to have\nin his possession the means of inexhaustible wealth. Shortly after\nthis time the emperor Rodolph seized and committed to prison Kelly,\nthe partner of Dee in this inestimable faculty, and, having once\nenlarged him, placed him in custody a second time. Meanwhile Elizabeth\nis said to have made him pressing overtures of so flattering a nature\nthat he determined to escape and return to his native country. For\nthis purpose he is said to have torn the sheets of his bed, and\ntwisted them into a rope, that by that means he might descend from\nthe tower in which he was confined. But, being a corpulent man of\nconsiderable weight, the rope broke with him before he was half way\ndown, and, having fractured one or both his legs, and being otherwise\nconsiderably bruised, he died shortly afterwards. This happened in\nthe year 1595.\n\nDee (according to his own account, delivered to commissioners\nappointed by queen Elizabeth to enquire into his circumstances) came\nfrom Trebona to England in a state little inferior to that of an\nambassador. He had three coaches, with four horses harnessed to each\ncoach, two or three loaded waggons, and a guard, sometimes of six,\nand sometimes of twenty-four soldiers, to defend him from enemies,\nwho were supposed to lie in wait to intercept his passage. Immediately\non his arrival he had an audience of the queen at Richmond, by whom\nhe was most graciously received. She gave special orders, that he\nshould do what he would in chemistry and philosophy, and that no one\nshould on any account molest him.\n\nBut here end the prosperity and greatness of this extraordinary man.\nIf he possessed the power of turning all baser metals into gold, he\ncertainly acted unadvisedly in surrendering this power to his\nconfederate, immediately before his return to his native country.\nHe parted at the same time with his gift of prophecy, since, though\nhe brought away with him his miraculous stone, and at one time\nappointed one Bartholomew, and another one Hickman, his interpreters\nto look into the stone, to see the marvellous sights it was expected\nto disclose, and to hear the voices and report the words that issued\nfrom it, the experiments proved in both instances abortive. They\nwanted the finer sense, or the unparalleled effrontery and\ninexhaustible invention, which Kelly alone possessed.\n\nThe remainder of the voyage of the life of Dee was \"bound in shallows\nand in miseries.\" Queen Elizabeth we may suppose soon found that her\ndreams of immense wealth to be obtained through his intervention were\nnugatory. Yet would she not desert the favourite of her former years.\nHe presently began to complain of poverty and difficulties. He\nrepresented that the revenue of two livings he held in the church\nhad been withheld from him from the time of his going abroad. He\nstated that, shortly after that period, his house had been broken\ninto and spoiled by a lawless mob, instigated by his ill fame as a\ndealer in prohibited and unlawful arts. They destroyed or dispersed\nhis library, consisting of four thousand volumes, seven hundred of\nwhich were manuscripts, and of inestimable rarity. They ravaged his\ncollection of curious implements and machines. He enumerated the\nexpences of his journey home by Elizabeth's command, for which he\nseemed to consider the queen as his debtor. Elizabeth in consequence\nordered him at several times two or three small sums. But this being\ninsufficient, she was prevailed upon in 1592 to appoint two members\nof her privy council to repair to his house at Mortlake to enquire\ninto particulars, to whom he made a Compendious Rehearsal of half\na hundred years of his life, accompanied with documents and vouchers.\n\nIt is remarkable that in this Rehearsal no mention occurs of the\nmiraculous stone brought down to him by an angel, or of his\npretensions respecting the transmutation of metals. He merely rests,\nhis claims to public support upon his literary labours, and the\nacknowledged eminence of his intellectual faculties. He passes over\nthe years he had lately spent in foreign countries, in entire silence,\nunless we except his account of the particulars of his journey home.\nHis representation to Elizabeth not being immediately productive of\nall the effects he expected, he wrote a letter to archbishop Whitgift\ntwo years after, lamenting the delay of the expected relief, and\ncomplaining of the \"untrue reports, opinions and fables, which had\nfor so many years been spread of his studies.\" He represents these\nstudies purely as literary, frank, and wholly divested of mystery.\nIf the \"True Relation of what passed for many years between Dr. Dee\nand certain Spirits\" had not been preserved, and afterwards printed,\nwe might have been disposed to consider all that was said on this\nsubject as a calumny.\n\nThe promotion which Dee had set his heart on, was to the office of\nmaster of St. Cross's Hospital near Winchester, which the queen had\npromised him when the present holder should be made a bishop. But\nthis never happened. He obtained however in lieu of it the\nchancellorship of St. Paul's cathedral, 8 December 1594, which in\nthe following year he exchanged for the wardenship of the college\nat Manchester. In this last office he continued till the year 1602\n(according to other accounts 1604), during which time he complained\nof great dissention and refractoriness on the part of the fellows;\nthough it may perhaps be doubted whether equal blame may not fairly\nbe imputed to the arrogance and restlessness of the warden. At length\nhe receded altogether from public life, and retired to his ancient\ndomicile at Mortlake. He made one attempt to propitiate the favour\nof king James; but it was ineffectual. Elizabeth had known him in\nthe flower and vigour of his days; he had boasted the uniform\npatronage of her chief favourite; he had been recognised by the\nphilosophical and the learned as inferior to none of their body,\nand he had finally excited the regard of his ancient mistress by\nhis pretence to revelations, and the promises he held out of the\nphilosopher's stone. She could not shake off her ingrafted prejudice\nin his favour; she could not find in her heart to cast him aside in\nhis old age and decay. But then came a king, to whom in his prosperity\nand sunshine he had been a stranger. He wasted his latter days in\ndotage, obscurity and universal neglect. No one has told us how he\ncontrived to subsist. We may be sure that his constant companions\nwere mortification and the most humiliating privations. He lingered\non till the year 1608; and the ancient people in the time of Antony\nWood, nearly a century afterwards, pointed to his grave in the chancel\nof the church at Mortlake, and professed to know the very spot where\nhis remains were desposited.\n\nThe history of Dee is exceedingly interesting, not only on its own\naccount; not only for the eminence of his talents and attainments,\nand the incredible sottishness and blindness of understanding which\nmarked his maturer years; but as strikingly illustrative of the\ncredulity and superstitious faith of the time in which he lived. At\na later period his miraculous stone which displayed such wonders,\nand was attended with so long a series of supernatural vocal\ncommunications would have deceived nobody: it was scarcely more\ningenious than the idle tricks of the most ordinary conjurer. But\nat this period the crust of long ages of darkness had not yet been\nfully worn away. Men did not trust to the powers of human\nunderstanding, and were not familiarised with the main canons of\nevidence and belief. Dee passed six years on the continent, proceeding\nfrom the court of one prince or potent nobleman to another, listened\nto for a time by each, each regarding his oracular communications\nwith astonishment and alarm, and at length irresolutely casting him\noff, when he found little or no difficulty in running a like career\nwith another.\n\nIt is not the least curious circumstance respecting the life of Dee,\nthat in 1659, half a century after his death, there remained still\nsuch an interest respecting practices of this sort, as to authorise\nthe printing a folio volume, in a complex and elaborate form, of his\ncommunications with spirits. The book was brought out by Dr. Meric\nCasaubon, no contemptible name in the republic of letters. The editor\nobserves respecting the hero and his achievements in the Preface,\nthat, \"though his carriage in certain respects seemed to lay in works\nof darkness, yet all was tendered by him to kings and princes, and\nby all (England alone excepted) was listened to for a good while with\ngood respect, and by some for a long time embraced and entertained.\"\nHe goes on to say, that \"the fame of it made the pope bestir himself,\nand filled all, both learned and unlearned, with great wonder and\nastonishment.\" He adds, that, \"as a whole it is undoubtedly not to\nbe paralleled in its kind in any age or country.\" In a word the\neditor, though disavowing an entire belief in Dee's pretensions, yet\nplainly considers them with some degree of deference, and insinuates\nto how much more regard such undue and exaggerated pretensions are\nentitled, than the impious incredulity of certain modern Sadducees,\nwho say that \"there is no resurrection; neither angel, nor spirit.\"\nThe belief in witchcraft and sorcery has undoutedly met with some\ndegree of favour from this consideration, inasmuch as, by recognising\nthe correspondence of human beings with the invisible world, it has\none principle in common with the believers in revelation, of which\nthe more daring infidel is destitute.\n\n\nEARL OF DERBY.\n\nThe circumstances of the death of Ferdinand, fifth earl of Derby,\nin 1594, have particularly engaged the attention of the contemporary\nhistorians. Hesket, an emissary of the Jesuits and English Catholics\nabroad, was importunate with this nobleman to press his title to the\ncrown, as the legal representative of his great-grandmother Mary,\nyoungest daughter to king Henry the Seventh. But the earl, fearing,\nas it is said, that this was only a trap to ensnare him, gave\ninformation against Hesket to the government, in consequence of which\nhe was apprehended, tried and executed. Hesket had threatened the\nearl that, if he did not comply with his suggestion, he should live\nonly a short time. Accordingly, four months afterwards, the earl was\nseized with a very uncommon disease. A waxen image was at the same\ntime found in his chamber with hairs in its belly exactly of the same\ncolour as those of the earl. [211] The image was, by some zealous\nfriend of lord Derby, burned; but the earl grew worse. He was himself\nthoroughly persuaded that he was bewitched. Stow has inserted in his\nAnnals a minute account of his disease from day to day, with a\ndescription of all the symptoms.\n\n\nKING JAMES'S VOYAGE TO NORWAY.\n\nWhile Elizabeth amused herself with the supernatural gifts to which\nDee advanced his claim, and consoled the adversity and destitution\nto which the old man, once so extensively honoured, was now reduced,\na scene of a very different complexion was played in the northern\npart of the island. Trials for sorcery were numerous in the reign\nof Mary queen of Scots; the comparative darkness and ignorance of\nthe sister kingdom rendered it a soil still more favourable than\nEngland to the growth of these gloomy superstitions. But the mind\nof James, at once inquisitive, pedantic and self-sufficient,\npeculiarly fitted him for the pursuit of these narrow-minded and\nobscure speculations. One combination of circumstances wrought up\nthis propensity within him to the greatest height.\n\nJames was born in the year 1566. He was the only direct heir to the\ncrown of Scotland; and he was in near prospect of succession to that\nof England. The zeal of the Protestant Reformation had wrought up\nthe anxiety of men's minds to a fever of anticipation and forecast.\nConsequently, towards the end of the reign of Elizabeth, a point which\ngreatly arrested the general attention was the expected marriage of\nthe king of Scotland. Elizabeth, with that petty jealousy which\nobscured the otherwise noble qualities of her spirit, sought to\ncountermine this marriage, that her rival and expected successor might\nnot be additionally graced with the honours of offspring. James fixed\nhis mind upon a daughter of the king of Denmark. By the successful\ncabals of Elizabeth he was baffled in this suit; and the lady was\nfinally married to the duke of Bavaria. The king of Denmark had\nanother daughter; and James made proposals to this princess. Still\nhe was counteracted; till at length he sent a splendid embassy, with\nample powers and instructions, and the treaty was concluded. The\nprincess embarked; but, when she had now for some time been expected\nin Scotland, news was brought instead, that she had been driven back\nby tempests on the coast of Norway. The young king felt keenly his\ndisappointment, and gallantly resolved to sail in person for the port,\nwhere his intended consort was detained by the shattered condition\nof her fleet. James arrived on the twenty-second of October 1589,\nand having consummated his marriage, was induced by the invitation\nof his father-in-law to pass the winter at Copenhagen, from whence\nhe did not sail till the spring, and, after having encountered a\nvariety of contrary winds and some danger, reached Edinburgh on the\nfirst of May in the following year.\n\nIt was to be expected that variable weather and storms should\ncharacterise the winter-season in these seas. But the storms were\nof longer continuance and of more frequent succession, than was\nusually known. And at this period, when the proposed consort of James\nfirst, then the king himself, and finally both of them, and the hope\nof Protestant succession, were committed to the mercy of the waves,\nit is not wonderful that the process of the seasons should be\naccurately marked, and that those varieties, which are commonly\nascribed to second causes, should have been imputed to extraordinary\nand supernatural interference. It was affirmed that, in the king's\nreturn from Denmark, his ship was impelled by a different wind from\nthat which acted on the rest of his fleet.\n\nIt happened that, soon after James's return to Scotland, one Geillis\nDuncan, a servant-maid, for the extraordinary circumstances that\nattended certain cures which she performed, became suspected of\nwitchcraft. Her master questioned her on the subject; but she would\nown nothing. Perceiving her obstinacy, the master took upon himself\nof his own authority, to extort confession from her by torture. In\nthis he succeeded; and, having related divers particulars of\nwitchcraft of herself, she proceeded to accuse others. The persons\nshe accused were cast into the public prison.\n\nOne of these, Agnes Sampson by name, at first stoutly resisted the\ntorture. But, it being more strenuously applied, she by and by became\nextremely communicative. It was at this period that James personally\nengaged in the examinations. We are told that he \"took great delight\nin being present,\" and putting the proper questions. The unhappy\nvictim was introduced into a room plentifully furnished with\nimplements of torture, while the king waited in an apartment at a\nconvenient distance, till the patient was found to be in a suitable\nframe of mind to make the desired communications. No sooner did he\nor she signify that they were ready, and should no longer refuse to\nanswer, than they were introduced, fainting, sinking under recent\nsufferings which they had no longer strength to resist, into the royal\npresence. And here sat James, in envied ease and conscious \"delight,\"\nwrapped up in the thought of his own sagacity, framing the enquiries\nthat might best extort the desired evidence, and calculating with\na judgment by no means to be despised, from the bearing, the turn\nof features, and the complexion of the victim, the probability whether\nhe was making a frank and artless confession, or had still the secret\ndesire to impose on the royal examiner, or from a different motive\nwas disposed to make use of the treacherous authority which the\nsituation afforded, to gratify his revenge upon some person towards\nwhom he might be inspired with latent hatred and malice.\n\nAgnes Sampson related with what solicitude she had sought to possess\nsome fragment of the linen belonging to the king. If he had worn it,\nand it had contracted any soil from his royal person, this would be\nenough: she would infallibly, by applying her incantations to this\nfragment, have been able to undermine the life of the sovereign. She\ntold how she with two hundred other witches had sailed in sieves from\nLeith to North Berwick church, how they had there encountered the\ndevil in person, how they had feasted with him, and what obscenities\nhad been practised. She related that in this voyage they had drowned\na cat, having first baptised him, and that immediately a dreadful\nstorm had arisen, and in this very storm the king's ship had been\nseparated from the rest of his fleet. She took James aside, and, the\nbetter to convince him, undertook to repeat to him the conversation,\nthe dialogue which had passed from the one to the other, between the\nking and queen in their bedchamber on the wedding-night. Agnes Sampson\nwas condemned to the flames.\n\n\nJOHN FIAN.\n\nAnother of the miserable victims on this occasion was John Fian, a\nschoolmaster at Tranent near Edinburgh, a young man, whom the ignorant\npopulace had decorated with the style of doctor. He was tortured by\nmeans of a rope strongly twisted about his head, and by the boots.\nHe was at length brought to confession. He told of a young girl, the\nsister of one of his scholars, with whom he had been deeply enamoured.\nHe had proposed to the boy to bring him three hairs from the most\nsecret part of his sister's body, possessing which he should be\nenabled by certain incantations to procure himself the love of the\ngirl. The boy at his mother's instigation brought to Fian three hairs\nfrom a virgin heifer instead; and, applying his conjuration to them,\nthe consequence had been that the heifer forced her way into his\nschool, leaped upon him in amorous fashion, and would not be\nrestrained from following him about the neighbourhood.\n\nThis same Fian acted an important part in the scene at North Berwick\nchurch. As being best fitted for the office, he was appointed recorder\nor clerk to the devil, to write down the names, and administer the\noaths to the witches. He was actively concerned in the enchantment,\nby means of which the king's ship had nearly been lost on his return\nfrom Denmark. This part of his proceeding however does not appear\nin his own confession, but in that of the witches who were his\nfellow-conspirators.\n\nHe further said, that, the night after he made his confession, the\ndevil appeared to him, and was in a furious rage against him for his\ndisloyalty to his service, telling him that he should severely repent\nhis infidelity. According to his own account, he stood firm, and\ndefied the devil to do his worst. Meanwhile the next night he escaped\nout of prison, and was with some difficulty retaken. He however\nfinally denied all his former confessions, said that they were\nfalshoods forced from him by mere dint of torture, and, though he\nwas now once more subjected to the same treatment to such an excess\nas must necessarily have crippled him of his limbs for ever, he proved\ninflexible to the last. At length by the king's order he was\nstrangled, and his body cast into the flames. Multitudes of unhappy\nmen and women perished in this cruel persecution. [212]\n\n\nKING JAMES'S DEMONOLOGY.\n\nIt was by a train of observations and experience like this, that James\nwas prompted seven years after to compose and publish his Dialogues\non Demonology in Three Books. In the Preface to this book he says,\n\"The fearfull abounding at this time in this countrey, of these\ndetestable slaves of the Diuel, the Witches or enchaunters, hath moved\nme (beloued Reader) to dispatch in post this following Treatise of\nmine, not in any wise (as I protest) to serue for a shew of my\nlearning and ingine, but onely (moued of conscience) to preasse\nthereby, so farre as I can, to resolue the doubting hearts of many,\nboth that such assaults of Satan are most certainely practised, and\nthat the instruments thereof merits most seuerely to be punished.\"\n\nIn the course of the treatise he affirms, \"that barnes, or wiues,\nor neuer so diffamed persons, may serue for sufficient witnesses and\nproofes in such trialls; for who but Witches can be prooves, and so\nwitnesses of the doings of Witches?\" [213] But, lest innocent persons\nshould be accused, and suffer falsely, he tells us, \"There are two\nother good helps that may be used for their trial: the one is, the\nfinding of their marke [a mark that the devil was supposed to impress\nupon some part of their persons], and the trying the insensibleness\nthereof: the other is their fleeting on the water: for, as in a secret\nmurther, if the dead carkasse be at any time thereafter handled by\nthe murtherer, it will gush out of bloud, as if the bloud were crying\nto the heauen for revenge of the murtherer, God hauing appointed that\nsecret supernaturall signe, for triall of that secret unnaturall\ncrime, so it appears that God hath appointed (for a supernaturall\nsigne of the monstrous impietie of Witches) that the water shall\nrefuse to receive them in her bosome, that haue shaken off them the\nsacred water of Baptisme, and wilfully refused the benefite thereof:\nNo, not so much as their eyes are able to shed teares (threaten and\ntorture them as ye please) while first they repent (God not permitting\nthem to dissemble their obstinacie in so horrible a crime.)\" [214]\n\n\nSTATUTE, 1 JAMES I.\n\nIn consequence of the strong conviction James entertained on the\nsubject, the English parliament was induced, in the first year of\nhis reign, to supersede the milder proceedings of Elizabeth, and to\nenact that \"if any person shall use, practice, or exercise any\ninvocation or conjuration of any evil and wicked spirit, or shall\nconsult, covenant with, entertain, employ, feed or reward any evil\nand wicked spirit, to or for any intent and purpose; or take up any\ndead man, woman, or child out of their grave, or the skin, bone, or\nany part of any dead person, to be used in any manner of witchcraft,\nsorcery or enchantment, or shall use any witchcraft, sorcery or\nenchantment, whereby any person shall be killed, destroyed, wasted,\nconsumed, pined or lamed in his or her body, or any part thereof;\nthat then every such offender, their aiders, abettors and counsellors\nshall suffer the pains of death.\" And upon this statute great numbers\nwere condemned and executed.\n\n\nFORMAN AND OTHERS.\n\nThere is a story of necromancy which unfortunately makes too prominent\na figure in the history of the court and character of king James the\nFirst. Robert earl of Essex, son of queen Elizabeth's favourite, and\nwho afterwards became commander in chief of the parliamentary forces\nin the civil wars, married lady Frances Howard, a younger daughter\nof the earl of Suffolk, the bride and bridegroom being the one\nthirteen, the other fourteen years old at the time of the marriage.\nThe relatives of the countess however, who had brought about the\nmatch, thought it most decorous to separate them for some time, and,\nwhile she remained at home with her friends, the bridegroom travelled\nfor three or four years on the continent. The lady proved the greatest\nbeauty of her time, but along with this had the most libertine and\nunprincipled dispositions.\n\nThe very circumstance that she had vowed her faith at the altar when\nshe was not properly capable of choice, inspired into the wayward\nmind of the countess a repugnance to her husband. He came from the\ncontinent, replete with accomplishments; and we may conclude, from\nthe figure he afterwards made in the most perilous times, not without\na competent share of intellectual abilities. But the countess shrank\nfrom all advances on his part. He loved retirement, and woed the lady\nto scenes most favourable to the development of the affections: she\nhad been bred in court, and was melancholy and repined in any other\nscene. So capricious was her temper, that she is said at the same\ntime to have repelled the overtures of the accomplished and popular\nprince Henry, the heir to the throne.\n\nIt happened about this period that a beautiful young man, twenty years\nof age, and full of all martial graces, appeared on the stage. King\nJames was singularly partial to young men who were distinguished for\npersonal attractions. By an extraordinary accident this person, Robert\nCarr by name, in the midst of a court-spectacle, just when it was\nhis cue to present a buckler with a device to the king, was thrown\nfrom his horse, and broke his leg. This was enough: James naturally\nbecame interested in the misfortune, attached himself to Carr, and\neven favoured him again and again with a royal visit during his cure.\nPresently the young man became an exclusive favourite; and no honours\nand graces could be obtained of the sovereign but by his interference.\n\nThis circumstance fixed the wavering mind of the countess of Essex.\nVoluptuous and self-willed in her disposition, she would hear of no\none but Carr. But her opportunities of seeing him were both short\nand rare. In this emergency she applied to Mrs. Turner, a woman whose\nprofession it was to study and to accommodate the fancies of such\npersons as the countess. Mrs. Turner introduced her to Dr. Forman,\na noted astrologer and magician, and he, by images made of wax, and\nvarious uncouth figures and devices, undertook to procure the love\nof Carr to the lady. At the same time he practised against the earl,\nthat he might become impotent, at least towards his wife. This however\ndid not satisfy the lady; and having gone the utmost lengths towards\nher innamorato, she insisted on a divorce in all the forms, and a\nlegal marriage with the youth she loved. Carr appears originally to\nhave had good dispositions; and, while that was the case, had\nassiduously cultivated the friendship of Sir Thomas Overbury, one\nof the most promising young courtiers of the time. Sir Thomas\nearnestly sought to break off the intimacy of Carr with lady Essex,\nand told him how utterly ruinous to his reputation and prospects it\nwould prove, if he married her. But Carr, instead of feeling how much\nobliged he was to Overbury for this example of disinterested\nfriendship, went immediately and told the countess what the young\nman said.\n\nFrom this time the destruction of Overbury was resolved on between\nthem. He was first committed to the Tower by an arbitrary mandate\nof James for refusing an embassage to Russia, next sequestered from\nall visitors, and finally attacked with poison, which, after several\nabortive attempts, was at length brought to effect. Meanwhile a\ndivorce was sued for by the countess upon an allegation of impotence;\nand another female was said to have been substituted in her room,\nto be subjected to the inspection of a jury of matrons in proof of\nher virginity. After a lapse of two years the murder was brought to\nlight, the inferior criminals, Mrs. Turner and the rest, convicted\nand executed, and Carr, now earl of Somerset, and his countess, found\nguilty, but received the royal pardon.--It is proper to add, in order\nto give a just idea of the state of human credulity at this period,\nthat, Forman having died at the time that his services were deemed\nmost necessary, one Gresham first, and then a third astrologer and\nenchanter were brought forward, to consummate the atrocious projects\nof the infamous countess. It is said that she and her second husband\nwere ultimately so thoroughly alienated from each other, that they\nresided for years under the same roof, with the most careful\nprecautions that they might not by any chance come into each other's\npresence. [215]\n\n\nLATEST IDEAS OF JAMES ON THE SUBJECT.\n\nIt is worthy of remark however that king James lived to alter his\nmind extremely on the question of witchcraft. He was active in his\nobservations on the subject; and we are told that \"the frequency of\nforged possessions which were detected by him wrought such an\nalteration in his judgment, that he, receding from what he had written\nin his early life, grew first diffident of, and then flatly to deny,\nthe working of witches and devils, as but falshoods and delusions.\"\n[216]\n\n\nLANCASHIRE WITCHES.\n\nA more melancholy tale does not occur in the annals of necromancy\nthan that of the Lancashire witches in 1612. The scene of this story\nis in Pendlebury Forest, four or five miles from Manchester,\nremarkable for its picturesque and gloomy situation. Such places were\nnot sought then as now, that they might afford food for the\nimagination, and gratify the refined taste of the traveller. They\nwere rather shunned as infamous for scenes of depredation and murder,\nor as the consecrated haunts of diabolical intercourse. Pendlebury\nhad been long of ill repute on this latter account, when a country\nmagistrate, Roger Nowel by name, conceived about this time that he\nshould do a public service, by rooting out a nest of witches, who\nrendered the place a terror to all the neighbouring vulgar. The first\npersons he seized on were Elizabeth Demdike and Ann Chattox, the\nformer of whom was eighty years of age, and had for some years been\nblind, who subsisted principally by begging, though she had a\nmiserable hovel on the spot, which she called her own. Ann Chattox\nwas of the same age, and had for some time been threatened with the\ncalamity of blindness. Demdike was held to be so hardened a witch,\nthat she had trained all her family to the mystery; namely, Elizabeth\nDevice, her daughter, and James and Alison Device, her grandchildren.\nIn the accusation of Chattox was also involved Ann Redferne, her\ndaughter. These, together with John Bulcock, and Jane his mother,\nAlice Nutter, Catherine Hewit, and Isabel Roby, were successively\napprehended by the diligence of Nowel and one or two neighbouring\nmagistrates, and were all of them by some means induced, some to make\na more liberal, and others a more restricted confession of their\nmisdeeds in witchcraft, and were afterwards hurried away to Lancaster\nCastle, fifty miles off, to prison. Their crimes were said to have\nuniversally proceeded from malignity and resentment; and it was\nreported to have repeatedly happened for poor old Demdike to be led\nby night from her habitation into the open air by some member of her\nfamily, when she was left alone for an hour to curse her victim, and\npursue her unholy incantations, and was then sought, and brought again\nto her hovel. Her curses never failed to produce the desired effect.\n\nThese poor wretches had been but a short time in prison, when\ninformation was given, that a meeting of witches was held on Good\nFriday, at Malkin's Tower, the habitation of Elizabeth Device, to\nthe number of twenty persons, to consult how by infernal machinations\nto kill one Covel, an officer, to blow up Lancaster Castle, and\ndeliver the prisoners, and to kill another man of the name of Lister.\nThe last was effected. The other plans by some means, we are not told\nhow, were prevented.\n\nThe prisoners were kept in jail till the summer assizes; and in the\nmean time it fortunately happened that the poor blind Demdike died\nin confinement, and was never brought up to trial.\n\nThe other prisoners were severally indicted for killing by witchcraft\ncertain persons who were named, and were all found guilty. The\nprincipal witnesses against Elizabeth Device were James Device and\nJennet Device, her grandchildren, the latter only nine years of age.\nWhen this girl was put into the witness-box, the grandmother, on\nseeing her, set up so dreadful a yell, intermixed with bitter curses,\nthat the child declared that she could not go on with her evidence,\nunless the prisoner was removed. This was agreed to; and both brother\nand sister swore, that they had been present, when the devil came\nto their grandmother in the shape of a black dog, and asked her what\nshe desired. She said, the death of John Robinson; when the dog told\nher to make an image of Robinson in clay, and after crumble it into\ndust, and as fast as the image perished, the life of the victim should\nwaste away, and in conclusion the man should die. This evidence was\nreceived; and upon such testimony, and testimony like this, ten\npersons were led to the gallows, on the twentieth of August, Ann\nChattox of eighty years of age among the rest, the day after the\ntrials, which lasted two days, were finished. The judges who presided\non these trials were sir James Altham and sir Edward Bromley, barons\nof the exchequer. [217]\n\nFrom the whole of this story it is fair to infer, that these old women\nhad played at the game of commerce with the devil. It had flattered\ntheir vanity, to make their simpler neighbours afraid of them. To\nobserve the symptoms of their rustic terror, even of their hatred\nand detestation, had been gratifying to them. They played the game\nso long, that in an imperfect degree they deceived themselves. Human\npassions are always to a certain degree infectious. Perceiving the\nhatred of their neighbours, they began to think that they were worthy\nobjects of detestation and terror, that their imprecations had a real\neffect, and their curses killed. The brown horrors of the forest were\nfavourable to visions; and they sometimes almost believed, that they\nmet the foe of mankind in the night.--But, when Elizabeth Device\nactually saw her grandchild of nine years old placed in the\nwitness-box, with the intention of consigning her to a public and\nan ignominious end, then the reveries of the imagination vanished,\nand she deeply felt the reality, that, where she had been somewhat\nimposing on the child in devilish sport, she had been whetting the\ndagger that was to take her own life, and digging her own grave. It\nwas then no wonder that she uttered a preternatural yell, and poured\ncurses from the bottom of her heart. It must have been almost beyond\nhuman endurance, to hear the cry of her despair, and to witness the\ncurses and the agony in which it vented itself.\n\nTwenty-two years elapsed after this scene, when a wretched man, of\nthe name of Edmund Robinson, conceived on the same spot the scheme\nof making himself a profitable speculation from a similar source.\nHe trained his son, eleven years of age, and furnished him with the\nnecessary instructions. He taught him to say that one day in the\nfields he had met with two dogs, which he urged on to hunt a hare.\nThey would not budge; and he in revenge tied them to a bush and\nwhipped them; when suddenly one of them was transformed into an old\nwoman and the other into a child, a witch and her imp. This story\nsucceeded so well, that the father soon after gave out that his son\nhad an eye that could distinguish a witch by sight, and took him round\nto the neighbouring churches, where he placed him standing on a bench\nafter service, and bade him look round and see what he could observe.\nThe device, however clumsy, succeeded, and no less than seventeen\npersons were apprehended at the boy's selection, and conducted to\nLancaster Castle. These seventeen persons were tried at the assizes,\nand found guilty; but the judge, whose name has unfortunately been\nlost, unlike sir James Altham and sir Edward Bromley, saw something\nin the case that excited his suspicion, and, though the juries had\nnot hesitated in any one instance, respited the convicts, and sent\nup a report of the affair to the government. Twenty-two years on this\noccasion had not elapsed in vain. Four of the prisoners were by the\njudge's recommendation sent for to the metropolis, and were examined\nfirst by the king's physicians, and then by Charles the First in\nperson. The boy's story was strictly scrutinised. In fine he confessed\nthat it was all an imposture; and the whole seventeen received the\nroyal pardon. [218]\n\n\nLADY DAVIES.\n\nEleanor Tuchet, daughter of George lord Audley, married sir John\nDavies, an eminent lawyer in the time of James the First, and author\nof a poem of considerable merit on the Immortality of the Soul. This\nlady was a person of no contemptible talents; but what she seems most\nto have valued herself upon, was her gift of prophecy; and she\naccordingly printed a book of Strange and Wonderful Predictions. She\nprofessed to receive her prophecies from a spirit, who communicated\nto her audibly things about to come to pass, though the voice could\nbe heard by no other person. Sir John Davies was nominated lord chief\njustice of the king's bench in 1626. Before he was inducted into the\noffice, lady Eleanor, sitting with him on Sunday at dinner, suddenly\nburst into a passion of tears. Sir John asked her what made her weep.\nTo which she replied, \"These are your funeral tears.\" Sir John turned\noff the prediction with a merry answer. But in a very few days he\nwas seized with an apoplexy, of which he presently died. [219]--She\nalso predicted the death of the duke of Buckingham in the same year.\nFor this assumption of the gift of prophecy, she was cited before\nthe high-commission-court and examined in 1634. [220]\n\n\nEDWARD FAIRFAX.\n\nIt is a painful task to record, that Edward Fairfax, the harmonious\nand elegant translator of Tasso, prosecuted six of his neighbours\nat York assizes in the year 1622, for witchcraft on his children.\n\"The common facts of imps, fits, and the apparition of the witches,\nwere deposed against the prisoners.\" The grand jury found the bill,\nand the accused were arraigned. But, we are told, \"the judge, having\na certificate of the sober behaviour of the prisoners, directed the\njury so well as to induce them to bring in a verdict of acquittal.\"\n[221] The poet afterwards drew up a bulky argument and narrative in\nvindication of his conduct.\n\n\nDOCTOR LAMB.\n\nDr. Lamb was a noted sorcerer in the time of Charles the First. The\nfamous Richard Baxter, in his Certainty of the World of Spirits,\nprinted in 1691, has recorded an appropriate instance of the\nmiraculous performances of this man. Meeting two of his acquaintance\nin the street, and they having intimated a desire to witness some\nexample of his skill, he invited them home with him. He then conducted\nthem into an inner room, when presently, to their no small surprise,\nthey saw a tree spring up in the middle of the apartment. They had\nscarcely ceased wondering at this phenomenon, when in a moment there\nappeared three diminutive men, with little axes in their hands for\nthe purpose of cutting down this tree. The tree was felled; and the\ndoctor dismissed his guests, fully satisfied of the solidity of his\npretensions. That very night however a tremendous hurricane arose,\ncausing the house of one of the guests to rock from side to side,\nwith every appearance that the building would come down, and bury\nhim and his wife in the ruins. The wife in great terror asked, \"Were\nyou not at Dr. Lamb's to-day?\" The husband confessed it was true.\n\"And did you not bring away something from his house?\" The husband\nowned that, when the little men felled the tree, he had been idle\nenough to pick up some of the chips, and put them in his pocket.\nNothing now remained to be done, but to produce the chips, and get\nrid of them as fast as they could. This ceremony performed, the\nwhirlwind immediately ceased, and the remainder of the night became\nperfectly calm and serene.\n\nDr. Lamb at length became so odious by his reputation for these\ninfernal practices, that the populace rose upon him in 1640, and tore\nhim to pieces in the streets.--Nor did the effects of his ill fame\nterminate here. Thirteen years after, a woman, who had been his\nservant-maid, was apprehended on a charge of witchcraft, was tried,\nand in expiation of her crime was executed at Tyburn.\n\n\nURBAIN GRANDIER.\n\nA few years previously to the catastrophe of Dr. Lamb, there occurred\na scene in France which it is eminently to the purpose of this work\nto record. Urbain Grandier, a canon of the church, and a popular\npreacher of the town of Loudun in the district of Poitiers, was in\nthe year 1634 brought to trial upon the accusation of magic. The first\ncause of his being thus called in question was the envy of his rival\npreachers, whose fame was eclipsed by his superior talents. The second\ncause was a libel falsely imputed to him upon cardinal Richelieu,\nwho with all his eminent qualities had the infirmity of being\ninexorable upon the question of any personal attack that was made\nupon him. Grandier, beside his eloquence, was distinguished for his\ncourage and resolution, for the gracefulness of his figure, and the\nextraordinary attention he paid to the neatness of his dress and the\ndecoration of his person, which last circumstance brought upon him\nthe imputation of being too much devoted to the service of the fair.\n\nAbout this time certain nuns of the convent of Ursulines at Loudun\nwere attacked with a disease which manifested itself by very\nextraordinary symptoms, suggesting to many the idea that they were\npossessed with devils. A rumour was immediately spread that Grandier,\nurged by some offence he had conceived against these nuns, was the\nauthor, by the skill he had in the arts of sorcery, of these\npossessions. It unfortunately happened, that the same capuchin friar\nwho assured cardinal Richelieu that Grandier was the writer of the\nlibel against him, also communicated to him the story of the possessed\nnuns, and the suspicion which had fallen on the priest on their\naccount. The cardinal seized with avidity on this occasion of private\nvengeance, wrote to a counsellor of state at Loudun, one of his\ncreatures, to cause a strict investigation to be made into the charge,\nand in such terms as plainly implied that what he aimed at was the\ndestruction of Grandier.\n\nThe trial took place in the month of August 1634; and, according to\nthe authorised copy of the trial, Grandier was convicted upon the\nevidence of Astaroth, a devil of the order of Seraphims, and chief\nof the possessing devils, of Easas, of Celsus, of Acaos, of Cedon,\nof Asmodeus of the order of thrones, of Alex, of Zabulon, of\nNaphthalim, of Cham, of Uriel, and of Achas of the order of\nprincipalities, and sentenced to be burned alive. In other words,\nhe was convicted upon the evidence of twelve nuns, who, being asked\nwho they were, gave in these names, and professed to be devils, that,\ncompelled by the order of the court, delivered a constrained\ntestimony. The sentence was accordingly executed, and Grandier met\nhis fate with heroic constancy. At his death an enormous drone fly\nwas seen buzzing about his head; and a monk, who was present at the\nexecution, attested that, whereas the devils are accustomed to present\nthemselves in the article of death to tempt men to deny God their\nSaviour, this was Beelzebub, which in Hebrew signifies the God of\nflies, come to carry away to hell the soul of the victim. [222]\n\n\nASTROLOGY.\n\nThe supposed science of astrology is of a nature less tremendous,\nand less appalling to the imagination, than the commerce with devils\nand evil spirits, or the raising of the dead from the peace of the\ntomb to effect certain magical operations, or to instruct the living\nas to the events that are speedily to befal them. Yet it is well\nworthy of attention in a work of this sort, if for no other reason,\nbecause it has prevailed in almost all nations and ages of the world,\nand has been assiduously cultivated by men, frequently of great\ntalent, and who were otherwise distinguished for the soundness of\ntheir reasoning powers, and for the steadiness and perseverance of\ntheir application to the pursuits in which they engaged.\n\nThe whole of the question was built upon the supposed necessary\nconnection of certain aspects and conjunctions or oppositions of the\nstars and heavenly bodies, with the events of the world and the\ncharacters and actions of men. The human mind has ever confessed an\nanxiety to pry into the future, and to deal in omens and prophetic\nsuggestions, and, certain coincidences having occurred however\nfortuitously, to deduce from them rules and maxims upon which to build\nan anticipation of things to come.\n\nAdd to which, it is flattering to the pride of man, to suppose all\nnature concerned with and interested in what is of importance to\nourselves. Of this we have an early example in the song of Deborah\nin the Old Testament, where, in a fit of pious fervour and exaltation,\nthe poet exclaims, \"They fought from heaven; the stars in their\ncourses fought against Sisera.\" [223]\n\nThe general belief in astrology had a memorable effect on the history\nof the human mind. All men in the first instance have an intuitive\nfeeling of freedom in the acts they perform, and of consequence of\npraise or blame due to them in just proportion to the integrity or\nbaseness of the motives by which they are actuated. This is in reality\nthe most precious endowment of man. Hence it comes that the good man\nfeels a pride and self-complacency in acts of virtue, takes credit\nto himself for the independence of his mind, and is conscious of the\nworth and honour to which he feels that he has a rightful claim. But,\nif all our acts are predetermined by something out of ourselves, if,\nhowever virtuous and honourable are our dispositions, we are overruled\nby our stars, and compelled to the acts, which, left to ourselves,\nwe should most resolutely disapprove, our condition becomes slavery,\nand we are left in a state the most abject and hopeless. And, though\nour situation in this respect is merely imaginary, it does not the\nless fail to have very pernicious results to our characters. Men,\nso far as they are believers in astrology, look to the stars, and\nnot to themselves, for an account of what they shall do, and resign\nthemselves to the omnipotence of a fate which they feel it in vain\nto resist. Of consequence, a belief in astrology has the most\nunfavourable tendency as to the morality of man; and, were it not\nthat the sense of the liberty of our actions is so strong that all\nthe reasonings in the world cannot subvert it, there would be a fatal\nclose to all human dignity and all human virtue.\n\n\nWILLIAM LILLY.\n\nOne of the most striking examples of the ascendancy of astrological\nfaith is in the instance of William Lilly. This man has fortunately\nleft us a narrative of his own life; and he comes sufficiently near\nto our time, to give us a feeling of reality in the transactions in\nwhich he was engaged, and to bring the scenes home to our business\nand bosoms.\n\nBefore he enters expressly upon the history of his life, he gives\nus incidentally an anecdote which merits our attention, as tending\nstrongly to illustrate the credulity of man at the periods of which\nwe treat.\n\nLilly was born in the year 1602. When certain circumstances led his\nyet undetermined thoughts to the study of astrology as his principal\npursuit, he put himself in the year 1632 under the tuition of one\nEvans, whom he describes as poor, ignorant, drunken, presumptuous\nand knavish, but who had a character, as the phrase was, for erecting\na figure, predicting future events, discovering secrets, restoring\nstolen goods, and even for raising a spirit when he pleased. Sir\nKenelm Digby was one of the most promising characters of these times,\nextremely handsome and graceful in his person, accomplished in all\nmilitary exercises, endowed with high intellectual powers, and\nindefatigably inquisitive after knowledge. To render him the more\nremarkable, he was the eldest son of Everard Digby, who was the most\neminent sufferer for the conspiracy of the Gunpowder Treason.\n\nIt was, as it seems, some time before Lilly became acquainted with\nEvans, that lord Bothwel and sir Kenelm Digby came to Evans at his\nlodgings in the Minories, for the express purpose of desiring him\nto shew them a spirit. Sir Kenelm was born in the year 1603; he must\nhave been therefore at this time a young man, but sufficiently old\nto know what he sought, and to choose the subjects of his enquiry\nwith a certain discretion. Evans consented to gratify the curiosity\nof his illustrious visitors. He drew a circle, and placed himself\nand the two strangers within the circle. He began his invocations.\nOn a sudden, Evans was taken away from the others, and found himself,\nhe knew not how, in Battersea Fields near the Thames. The next morning\na countryman discovered him asleep, and, having awaked him, in answer\nto his enquiries told him where he was. Evans in the afternoon sent\na messenger to his wife, to inform her of his safety, and to calm\nthe apprehensions she might reasonably entertain. Just as the\nmessenger arrived, sir Kenelm Digby came to the house, curious to\nenquire respecting the issue of the adventure of yesterday. Lilly\nreceived this story from Evans; and, having asked him how such an\nevent came to attend on the experiment, was answered that, in\npractising the invocation, he had heedlessly omitted the necessary\nsuffumigation, at which omission the spirit had taken offence.\n\nLilly made some progress in astrology under Evans, and practised the\nart in minor matters with a certain success; but his ambition led\nhim to aspire to the highest place in his profession. He made an\nexperiment to discover a hidden treasure in Westminster Abbey; and,\nhaving obtained leave for that purpose from the bishop of Lincoln,\ndean of Westminster, he resorted to the spot with about thirty persons\nmore, with divining rods. He fixed on the place according to the\nrules, and began to dig; but he had not proceeded far, before a\nfurious storm came on, and he judged it advisable to \"dismiss the\ndemons,\" and desist. These supernatural assistants, he says, had taken\noffence at the number and levity of the persons present; and, if he\nhad not left off when he did, he had no doubt that the storm would\nhave grown more and more violent, till the whole structure would have\nbeen laid level with the ground.\n\nHe purchased himself a house to which to retire in 1636 at Hersham\nnear Walton on Thames, having, though originally bred in the lowest\nobscurity, twice enriched himself in some degree by marriage. He came\nto London with a view to practise his favourite art in 1641; but,\nhaving received a secret monition warning him that he was not yet\nsufficiently an adept, he retired again into the country for two\nyears, and did not finally commence his career till 1644, when he\npublished a Prophetical Almanac, which he continued to do till about\nthe time of his death. He then immediately began to rise into\nconsiderable notice. Mrs. Lisle, the wife of one of the commissioners\nof the great seal, took to him the urine of Whitlocke, one of the\nmost eminent lawyers of the time, to consult him respecting the health\nof the party, when he informed the lady that the person would recover\nfrom his present disease, but about a month after would be very\ndangerously ill of a surfeit, which accordingly happened. He was\nprotected by the great Selden, who interested himself in his favour;\nand he tells us that Lenthal, speaker of the house of commons, was\nat all times his friend. He further says of himself that he was\noriginally partial to king Charles and to monarchy: but, when the\nparliament had apparently the upper hand, he had the skill to play\nhis cards accordingly, and secured his favour with the ruling powers.\nWhitlocke, in his Memorials of Affairs in his Own Times, takes\nrepeated notice of him, says that, meeting him in the street in the\nspring of 1645, he enquired of Lilly as to what was likely speedily\nto happen, who predicted to him the battle of Naseby, and notes in\n1648 that some of his prognostications \"fell out very strangely,\nparticularly as to the king's fall from his horse about this time.\"\nLilly applied to Whitlocke in favour of his rival, Wharton, the\nastrologer, and his prayer was granted, and again in behalf of\nOughtred, the celebrated mathematician.\n\nLilly and Booker, a brother-astrologer, were sent for in great form,\nwith a coach and four horses, to the head-quarters of Fairfax at\nWindsor, towards the end of the year 1647, when they told the general,\nthat they were \"confident that God would go along with him and his\narmy, till the great work for which they were ordained was perfected,\nwhich they hoped would be the conquering their and the parliament's\nenemies, and a quiet settlement and firm peace over the whole nation.\"\nThe two astrologers were sent for in the same state in the following\nyear to the siege of Colchester, which they predicted would soon fall\ninto possession of the parliament.\n\nLilly in the mean while retained in secret his partiality to Charles\nthe First. Mrs. Whorwood, a lady who was fully in the king's\nconfidence, came to consult him, as to the place to which Charles\nshould retire when he escaped from Hampton Court. Lilly prescribed\naccordingly; but Ashburnham disconcerted all his measures, and the\nking made his inauspicious retreat to the isle of Wight. Afterwards\nhe was consulted by the same lady, as to the way in which Charles\nshould proceed respecting the negociations with the parliamentary\ncommissioners at Newport, when Lilly advised that the king should\nsign all the propositions, and come up immediately with the\ncommissioners to London, in which case Lilly did not doubt that the\npopular tide would turn in his favour, and the royal cause prove\ntriumphant. Finally, he tells us that he furnished the saw and _aqua\nfortis_, with which the king had nearly removed the bars of the\nwindow of his prison in Carisbrook Castle, and escaped. But Charles\nmanifested the same irresolution at the critical moment in this case,\nwhich had before proved fatal to his success. In the year 1649 Lilly\nreceived a pension of one hundred pounds _per annum_ from the\ncouncil of state, which, after having been paid him for two years,\nhe declined to accept any longer. In 1659 he received a present of\na gold chain and medal from Charles X king of Sweden, in acknowledgment\nof the respectful mention he had made of that monarch in his almanacs.\n\nLilly lived to a considerable age, not having died till the year 1681.\nIn the year 1666 he was summoned before a committee of the house of\ncommons, on the frivolous ground that, in his Monarchy or No Monarchy\npublished fifteen years before, he had introduced sixteen plates,\namong which was one, the eighth, representing persons digging graves,\nwith coffins, and other emblems significative of mortality, and, in\nthe thirteenth, a city in flames. He was asked whether these things\nreferred to the late plague and fire of London. Lilly replied in a\nmanner to intimate that they did; but he ingenuously confessed that\nhe had not known in what year they would happen. He said, that he\nhad given these emblematical representations without any comment,\nthat those who were competent might apprehend their meaning, whilst\nthe rest of the world remained in the ignorance which was their\nappointed portion.\n\n\nMATTHEW HOPKINS.\n\nNothing can place the credulity of the English nation on the subject\nof witchcraft about this time, in a more striking point of view, than\nthe history of Matthew Hopkins, who, in a pamphlet published in 1647\nin his own vindication, assumes to himself the surname of the\nWitch-finder. He fell by accident, in his native county of Suffolk,\ninto contact with one or two reputed witches, and, being a man of\nan observing turn and an ingenious invention, struck out for himself\na trade, which brought him such moderate returns as sufficed to\nmaintain him, and at the same time gratified his ambition by making\nhim a terror to many, and the object of admiration and gratitude to\nmore, who felt themselves indebted to him for ridding them of secret\nand intestine enemies, against whom, as long as they proceeded in\nways that left no footsteps behind, they felt they had no possibility\nof guarding themselves. Hopkins's career was something like that of\nTitus Oates in the following reign, but apparently much safer for\nthe adventurer, since Oates armed against himself a very formidable\nparty, while Hopkins seemed to assail a few only here and there, who\nwere poor, debilitated, impotent and helpless.\n\nAfter two or three successful experiments, Hopkins engaged in a\nregular tour of the counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex and\nHuntingdonshire. He united to him two confederates, a man named John\nStern, and a woman whose name has not been handed down to us. They\nvisited every town in their route that invited them, and secured to\nthem the moderate remuneration of twenty shillings and their expences,\nleaving what was more than this to the spontaneous gratitude of those\nwho should deem themselves indebted to the exertions of Hopkins and\nhis party. By this expedient they secured to themselves a favourable\nreception; and a set of credulous persons who would listen to their\ndictates as so many oracles. Being three of them, they were enabled\nto play the game into one another's hands, and were sufficiently\nstrong to overawe all timid and irresolute opposition. In every town\nto which they came, they enquired for reputed witches, and having\ntaken them into custody, were secure for the most part of a certain\nnumber of zealous abettors, who took care that they should have a\nclear stage for their experiments. They overawed their helpless\nvictims with a certain air of authority, as if they had received a\ncommission from heaven for the discovery of misdeeds. They assailed\nthe poor creatures with a multitude of questions constructed in the\nmost artful manner. They stripped them naked, in search for the\ndevil's marks in different parts of their bodies, which were\nascertained by running pins to the head into those parts, that, if\nthey were genuine marks, would prove themselves such by their\ninsensibility. They swam their victims in rivers and ponds, it being\nan undoubted fact, that, if the persons accused were true witches,\nthe water, which was the symbol of admission into the Christian\nchurch, would not receive them into its bosom. If the persons examined\ncontinued obstinate, they seated them in constrained and uneasy\nattitudes, occasionally binding them with cords, and compelling them\nto remain so without food or sleep for twenty-four hours. They walked\nthem up and down the room, two taking them under each arm, till they\ndropped down with fatigue. They carefully swept the room in which\nthe experiment was made, that they might keep away spiders and flies,\nwhich were supposed to be devils or their imps in that disguise.\n\nThe most plentiful inquisition of Hopkins and his confederates was\nin the years 1644, 1645 and 1646. At length there were so many persons\ncommitted to prison upon suspicion of witchcraft, that the government\nwas compelled to take in hand the affair. The rural magistrates before\nwhom Hopkins and his confederates brought their victims, were obliged,\nwillingly or unwillingly, to commit them for trial. A commission was\ngranted to the earl of Warwick and others to hold a sessions of\njail-delivery against them for Essex at Chelmsford, Lord Warwick was\nat this time the most popular nobleman in England. He was appointed\nby the parliament lord high admiral during the civil war. He was much\ncourted by the independent clergy, was shrewd, penetrating and active,\nand exhibited a singular mixture of pious demeanour with a vein of\nfacetiousness and jocularity. With him was sent Dr. Calamy, the most\neminent divine of the period of the Commonwealth, to see (says Baxter\n[224]) that no fraud was committed, or wrong done to the parties\naccused. It may well be doubted however whether the presence of this\nclergyman did not operate unfavourably to the persons suspected. He\npreached before the judges. It may readily be believed, considering\nthe temper of the times, that he insisted much upon the horrible\nnature of the sin of witchcraft, which could expect no pardon, either\nin this world or the world to come. He sat on the bench with the\njudges, and participated in their deliberations. In the result of\nthis inquisition sixteen persons were hanged at Yarmouth in Norfolk,\nfifteen at Chelmsford, and sixty at various places in the county of\nSuffolk.\n\nWhitlocke in his Memorials of English Affairs, under the date of 1649,\nspeaks of many witches being apprehended about Newcastle, upon the\ninformation of a person whom he calls the Witch-finder, who, as his\nexperiments were nearly the same, though he is not named, we may\nreasonably suppose to be Hopkins; and in the following year about\nBoston in Lincolnshire. In 1652 and 1653 the same author speaks of\nwomen in Scotland, who were put to incredible torture to extort from\nthem a confession of what their adversaries imputed to them.\n\nThe fate of Hopkins was such us might be expected in similar cases.\nThe multitude are at first impressed with horror at the monstrous\ncharges that are advanced. They are seized, as by contagion, with\nterror at the mischiefs which seem to impend over them, and from\nwhich no innocence and no precaution appear to afford them sufficient\nprotection. They hasten, as with an unanimous effort, to avenge\nthemselves upon these malignant enemies, whom God and man alike\ncombine to expel from society. But, after a time, they begin to\nreflect, and to apprehend that they have acted with too much\nprecipitation, that they have been led on with uncertain appearances.\nThey see one victim led to the gallows after another, without stint\nor limitation. They see one dying with the most solemn asseverations\nof innocence, and another confessing apparently she knows not what,\nwhat is put into her mouth by her relentless persecutors. They see\nthese victims, old, crazy and impotent, harassed beyond endurance\nby the ingenious cruelties that are practised against them. They were\nfirst urged on by implacable hostility and fury, to be satisfied with\nnothing but blood. But humanity and remorse also have their turn.\nDissatisfied with themselves, they are glad to point their resentment\nagainst another. The man that at first they hailed as a public\nbenefactor, they presently come to regard with jealous eyes, and begin\nto consider as a cunning impostor, dealing in cool blood with the\nlives of his fellow-creatures for a paltry gain, and, still more\nhorrible, for the lure of a perishable and short-lived fame. The\nmultitude, we are told, after a few seasons, rose upon Hopkins, and\nresolved to subject him to one of his own criterions. They dragged\nhim to a pond, and threw him into the water for a witch. It seems\nhe floated on the surface, as a witch ought to do. They then pursued\nhim with hootings and revilings, and drove him for ever into that\nobscurity and ignominy which he had amply merited.\n\n\nCROMWEL.\n\nThere is a story of Cromwel recorded by Echard, the historian, which\nwell deserves to be mentioned, as strikingly illustrative of the\ncredulity which prevailed about this period. It takes its date from\nthe morning of the third of September, 1651, when Cromwel gained the\nbattle of Worcester against Charles the Second, which he was\naccustomed to call by a name sufficiently significant, his \"crowning\nvictory.\" It is told on the authority of a colonel Lindsey, who is\nsaid to have been an intimate friend of the usurper, and to have been\ncommonly known by that name, as being in reality the senior captain\nin Cromwel's own regiment. \"On this memorable morning the general,\"\nit seems, \"took this officer with him to a woodside not far from the\narmy, and bade him alight, and follow him into that wood, and to take\nparticular notice of what he saw and heard. After having alighted,\nand secured their horses, and walked some little way into the wood,\nLindsey began to turn pale, and to be seized with horror from some\nunknown cause. Upon which Cromwel asked him how he did, or how he\nfelt himself. He answered, that he was in such a trembling and\nconsternation, that he had never felt the like in all the conflicts\nand battles he had ever been engaged in: but whether it proceeded\nfrom the gloominess of the place, or the temperature of his body,\nhe knew not. 'How now?' said Cromwel, 'What, troubled with the\nvapours? Come forward, man.' They had not gone above twenty yards\nfurther, before Lindsey on a sudden stood still, and cried out, 'By\nall that is good I am seized with such unaccountable terror and\nastonishment, that it is impossible for me to stir one step further.'\nUpon which Cromwel called him, 'Fainthearted fool!' and bade him,\n'stand there, and observe, or be witness.' And then the general,\nadvancing to some distance from him, met a grave, elderly man with\na roll of parchment in his hand, who delivered it to Cromwel, and\nhe eagerly perused it, Lindsey, a little recovered from his fear,\nheard several loud words between them: particularly Cromwel said,\n'This is but for seven years; I was to have had it for one-and-twenty;\nand it must, and shall be so.' The other told him positively, it could\nnot be for more than seven. Upon which Cromwel cried with great\nfierceness, 'It shall however be for fourteen years.' But the other\nperemptorily declared, 'It could not possibly be for any longer time;\nand, if he would not take it so, there were others that would.' Upon\nwhich Cromwel at last took the parchment: and, returning to Lindsey\nwith great joy in his countenance, he cried, 'Now, Lindsey, the battle\nis our own! I long to be engaged.' Returning out of the wood, they\nrode to the army, Cromwel with a resolution to engage as soon as\npossible, and the other with a design to leave the army as soon. After\nthe first charge, Lindsey deserted his post, and rode away with all\npossible speed day and night, till he came into the county of Norfolk,\nto the house of an intimate friend, one Mr. Thoroughgood, minister\nof the parish of Grimstone. Cromwel, as soon as he missed him, sent\nall ways after him, with a promise of a great reward to any that\nshould bring him alive or dead. When Mr. Thoroughgood saw his friend\nLindsey come into his yard, his horse and himself much tired, in a\nsort of a maze, he said, 'How now, colonel? We hear there is likely\nto be a battle shortly: what, fled from your colours?' 'A battle,'\nsaid the other; 'yes there has been a battle, and I am sure the king\nis beaten. But, if ever I strike a stroke for Cromwel again, may I\nperish eternally! For I am sure he has made a league with the devil,\nand the devil will have him in due time.' Then, desiring his\nprotection from Cromwel's inquisitors, he went in, and related to\nhim the story in all its circumstances.\" It is scarcely necessary\nto remind the reader, that Cromwel died on that day seven years,\nSeptember the third, 1658.\n\nEchard adds, to prove his impartiality as an historian, \"How far\nLindsey is to be believed, and how far the story is to be accounted\nincredible, is left to the reader's faith and judgment, and not to\nany determination of our own.\"\n\n\nDOROTHY MATELEY.\n\nI find a story dated about this period, which, though it does not\nstrictly belong to the subject of necromancy or dealings with the\ndevil, seems well to deserve to be inserted in this work. The topic\nof which I treat is properly of human credulity; and this infirmity\nof our nature can scarcely be more forcibly illustrated than in the\nfollowing example. It is recorded by the well-known John Bunyan, in\na fugitive tract of his, entitled the Life and Death of Mr. Badman,\nbut which has since been inserted in the works of the author in two\nvolumes folio. In minuteness of particularity and detail it may vie\nwith almost any story which human industry has collected, and human\nsimplicity has ever placed upon record.\n\n\"There was,\" says my author, \"a poor woman, by name Dorothy Mateley,\nwho lived at a small village, called Ashover, in the county of Derby.\nThe way in which she earned her subsistence, was by washing the\nrubbish that came from the lead-mines in that neighbourhood through\na sieve, which labour she performed till the earth had passed the\nsieve, and what remained was particles and small portions of genuine\nore. This woman was of exceedingly low and coarse habits, and was\nnoted to be a profane swearer, curser, liar and thief; and her usual\nway of asserting things was with an imprecation, as, 'I would I might\nsink into the earth, if it be not so,' or, 'I would that God would\nmake the earth open and swallow me up, if I tell an untruth.'\n\n\"Now it happened on the 23rd of March, 1660, [according to our\ncomputation 1661], that she was washing ore on the top of a steep\nhill about a quarter of a mile from Ashover, when a lad who was\nworking on the spot missed two-pence out of his pocket, and\nimmediately bethought himself of charging Dorothy with the theft.\nHe had thrown off his breeches, and was working in his drawers.\nDorothy with much seeming indignation denied the charge, and added,\nas was usual with her, that she wished the ground might open and\nswallow her up, if she had the boy's money.\n\n\"One George Hopkinson, a man of good report in Ashover, happened to\npass at no great distance at the time. He stood a while to talk to\nthe woman. There stood also near the tub a little child, who was\ncalled to by her elder sister to come away. Hopkinson therefore took\nthe little girl by the hand to lead her to her that called her. But\nhe had not gone ten yards from Dorothy, when he heard her crying out\nfor help, and turning back, to his great astonishment he saw the\nwoman, with her tub and her sieve, twirling round and round, and\nsinking at the same time in the earth. She sunk about three yards,\nand then stopped, at the same time calling lustily for assistance.\nBut at that very moment a great stone fell upon her head, and broke\nher skull, and the earth fell in and covered her. She was afterwards\ndigged up, and found about four yards under ground, and the boy's\ntwo pennies were discovered on her person, but the tub and the sieve\nhad altogether disappeared.\"\n\n\nWITCHES HANGED BY SIR MATTHEW HALE.\n\nOne of the most remarkable trials that occur in the history of\ncriminal jurisprudence, was that of Amy Duny and Rose Cullender at\nBury St. Edmund's in the year 1664. Not for the circumstances that\noccasioned it; for they were of the coarsest and most vulgar\nmaterials. The victims were two poor, solitary women of the town of\nLowestoft in Suffolk, who had by temper and demeanour rendered\nthemselves particularly obnoxious to their whole neighbourhood.\nWhenever they were offended with any one, and this frequently\nhappened, they vented their wrath in curses and ill language,\nmuttered between their teeth, and the sense of which could scarcely\nbe collected; and ever and anon they proceeded to utter dark\npredictions of evil, which should happen in revenge for the ill\ntreatment they received. The fishermen would not sell them fish; and\nthe boys in the street were taught to fly from them with horror, or\nto pursue them with hootings and scurrilous abuse. The principal\ncharges against them were, that the children of two families were\nmany times seized with fits, in which they exclaimed that they saw\nAmy Duny and Rose Cullender coming to torment them. They vomited,\nand in their vomit were often found pins, and once or twice a\ntwo-penny nail. One or two of the children died; for the accusations\nspread over a period of eight years, from 1656 to the time of the\ntrial. To back these allegations, a waggoner appeared, whose waggon\nhad been twice overturned in one morning, in consequence of the curses\nof one of the witches, the waggon having first run against her hovel,\nand materially injured it. Another time the waggon stuck fast in a\ngate-way, though the posts on neither side came in contact with the\nwheels; and, one of the posts being cut down, the waggon passed easily\nalong.\n\nThis trial, as I have said, was no way memorable for the circumstances\nthat occasioned it, but for the importance of the persons who were\npresent, and had a share in the conduct of it. The judge who presided\nwas sir Matthew Hale, then chief baron of the exchequer, and who had\nbefore rendered himself remarkable for his undaunted resistance to\none of the arbitrary mandates of Cromwel, then in the height of his\npower, which was addressed to Hale in his capacity of judge. Hale\nwas also an eminent author, who had treated upon the abstrusest\nsubjects, and was equally distinguished for his piety and inflexible\nintegrity. Another person, who was present, and accidentally took\npart in the proceedings, was sir Thomas Browne, the superlatively\neloquent and able author of the Religio Medici. (He likewise took\na part on the side of superstition in the trial of the Lancashire\nwitches in 1634.) A judge also who assisted at the trial was Keeling,\nwho afterwards occupied the seat of chief justice.\n\nSir Matthew Hale apparently paid deep attention to the trial, and\nfelt much perplexed by the evidence. Seeing sir Thomas Browne in\ncourt, and knowing him for a man of extensive information and vast\npowers of intellect, Hale appealed to him, somewhat extrajudicially,\nfor his thoughts on what had transpired. Sir Thomas gave it as his\nopinion that the children were bewitched, and inforced his position\nby something that had lately occured in Denmark. Keeling dissented\nfrom this, and inclined to the belief that it might all be practice,\nand that there was nothing supernatural in the affair.\n\nThe chief judge was cautious in his proceeding. He even refused to\nsum up the evidence, lest he might unawares put a gloss of his own\nupon any thing that had been sworn, but left it all to the jury. He\ntold them that the Scriptures left no doubt that there was such a\nthing as witchcraft, and instructed them that all they had to do was,\nfirst, to consider whether the children were really bewitched, and\nsecondly, whether the witchcraft was sufficiently brought home to\nthe prisoners at the bar. The jury returned a verdict of guilty; and\nthe two women were hanged on the seventeenth of March 1664, one week\nafter their trial. The women shewed very little activity during the\ntrial, and died protesting their innocence. [225]\n\nThis trial is particularly memorable for the circumstances that\nattended it. It has none of the rust of ages: no obscurity arises\nfrom a long vista of years interposed between. Sir Matthew Hale and\nsir Thomas Browne are eminent authors; and there is something in such\nmen, that in a manner renders them the contemporaries of all times,\nthe living acquaintance of successive ages of the world. Names\ngenerally stand on the page of history as mere abstract idealities;\nbut in the case of these men we are familiar with their tempers and\nprejudices, their virtues and vices, their strength and their\nweakness.\n\nThey proceed in the first place upon the assumption that there is\nsuch a thing as witchcraft, and therefore have nothing to do but with\nthe cogency or weakness of evidence as applied to this particular\ncase. Now what are the premises on which they proceed in this\nquestion? They believe in a God, omniscient, all wise, all powerful,\nand whose \"tender mercies are over all his works.\" They believe in\na devil, awful almost as God himself, for he has power nearly\nunlimited, and a will to work all evil, with subtlety, deep reach\nof thought, vigilant, \"walking about, seeking whom he may devour.\"\nThis they believe, for they refer to \"the Scriptures, as confirming\nbeyond doubt that there is such a thing as witchcraft.\" Now what\noffice do they assign to the devil, \"the prince of the power of the\nair,\" at whose mighty attributes, combined with his insatiable\nmalignity, the wisest of us might well stand aghast? It is the first\nlaw of sound sense and just judgment,\n\n  --_servetur ad imum,\n  Qualis ab incoepto processerit, et sibi constet_;\n\nthat every character which we place on the scene of things should\ndemean himself as his beginning promises, and preserve a consistency\nthat, to a mind sufficiently sagacious, should almost serve us in\nlieu of the gift of prophecy. And how is this devil employed according\nto sir Matthew Hale and sir Thomas Browne? Why in proffering himself\nas the willing tool of the malice of two doting old women. In\nafflicting with fits, in causing them to vomit pins and nails, the\nchildren of the parents who had treated the old women with barbarity\nand cruelty. In judgment upon these women sit two men, in some\nrespects the most enlightened of an age that produced Paradise Lost,\nand in confirmation of this blessed creed two women are executed in\ncool blood, in a country which had just achieved its liberties under\nthe guidance and the virtues of Hampden.\n\nWhat right we have in any case to take away the life of a human being\nalready in our power, and under the forms of justice, is a problem,\none of the hardest that can be proposed for the wit of man to solve.\nBut to see some of the wisest of men, sitting in judgment upon the\nlives of two human creatures in consequence of the forgery and tricks\nof a set of malicious children, as in this case undoubtedly it was,\nis beyond conception deplorable. Let us think for a moment of the\ninexpressible evils which a man encounters when dragged from his\npeaceful home under a capital accusation, of his arraignment in open\ncourt, of the orderly course of the evidence, and of the sentence\nawarded against him, of the \"damned minutes and days he counts over\"\nfrom that time to his execution, of his being finally brought forth\nbefore a multitude exasperated by his supposed crimes, and his being\ncast out from off the earth as unworthy so much as to exist among\nmen, and all this being wholly innocent. The consciousness of\ninnocence a hundred fold embitters the pang. And, if these poor women\nwere too obtuse of soul entirely to feel the pang, did that give their\nsuperiors a right to overwhelm and to crush them?\n\n\nWITCHCRAFT IN SWEDEN.\n\nThe story of witchcraft, as it is reported to have passed in Sweden\nin the year 1670, and has many times been reprinted in this country,\nis on several accounts one of the most interesting and deplorable\nthat has ever been recorded. The scene lies in Dalecarlia, a country\nfor ever memorable as having witnessed some of the earliest adventures\nof Gustavus Vasa, his deepest humiliation, and the first commencement\nof his prosperous fortune. The Dalecarlians are represented to us\nas the simplest, the most faithful, and the bravest of the sons of\nmen, men undebauched and unsuspicious, but who devoted themselves\nin the most disinterested manner for a cause that appeared to them\nworthy of support, the cause of liberty and independence against the\ncruelest of tyrants. At least such they were in 1520, one hundred\nand fifty years before the date of the story we are going to\nrecount.--The site of these events was at Mohra and Elfdale in the\nprovince that has just been mentioned.\n\nThe Dalecarlians, simple and ignorant, but of exemplary integrity\nand honesty, who dwelt amidst impracticable mountains and spacious\nmines of copper and iron, were distinguished for superstition among\nthe countries of the north, where all were superstitious. They were\nprobably subject at intervals to the periodical visitation of alarms\nof witches, when whole races of men became wild with the infection\nwithout any one's being well able to account for it.\n\nIn the year 1670, and one or two preceding years, there was a great\nalarm of witches in the town of Mohra. There were always two or three\nwitches existing in some of the obscure quarters of this place. But\nnow they increased in number, and shewed their faces with the utmost\naudacity. Their mode on the present occasion was to make a journey\nthrough the air to Blockula, an imaginary scene of retirement, which\nnone but the witches and their dupes had ever seen. Here they met\nwith feasts and various entertainments, which it seems had particular\ncharms for the persons who partook of them. The witches used to go\ninto a field in the environs of Mohra, and cry aloud to the devil\nin a peculiar sort of recitation, \"Antecessor, come and carry us to\nBlockula!\" Then appeared a multitude of strange beasts, men, spits,\nposts, and goats with spits run through their entrails and projecting\nbehind that all might have room. The witches mounted these beasts\nof burthen or vehicles, and were conveyed through the air over high\nwalls and mountains, and through churches and chimneys, without\nperceptible impediment, till they arrived at the place of their\ndestination. Here the devil feasted them with various compounds and\nconfections, and, having eaten to their hearts' content, they danced,\nand then fought. The devil made them ride on spits, from which they\nwere thrown; and the devil beat them with the spits, and laughed at\nthem. He then caused them to build a house to protect them against\nthe day of judgment, and presently overturned the walls of the house,\nand derided them again. All sorts of obscenities were reported to\nfollow upon these scenes. The devil begot on the witches sons and\ndaughters: this new generation intermarried again, and the issue of\nthis further conjunction appears to have been toads and serpents.\nHow all this pedigree proceeded in the two or three years in which\nBlockula had ever been heard of, I know not that the witches were\never called on to explain.\n\nBut what was most of all to be deplored, the devil was not content\nwith seducing the witches to go and celebrate this infernal sabbath;\nhe further insisted that they should bring the children of Mohra along\nwith them. At first he was satisfied, if each witch brought one; but\nnow he demanded that each witch should bring six or seven for her\nquota. How the witches managed with the minds of the children we are\nat a loss to guess. These poor, harmless innocents, steeped to the\nvery lips in ignorance and superstition, were by some means kept in\ncontinual alarm by the wicked, or, to speak more truly, the insane\nold women, and said as their prompters said. It does not appear that\nthe children ever left their beds, at the time they reported they\nhad been to Blockula. Their parents watched them with fearful anxiety.\nAt a certain time of the night the children were seized with a strange\nshuddering, their limbs were agitated, and their skins covered with\na profuse perspiration. When they came to themselves, they related\nthat they had been to Blockula, and the strange things they had seen,\nsimilar to what had already been described by the women. Three hundred\nchildren of various ages are said to have been seized with this\nepidemic.\n\nThe whole town of Mohra became subject to the infection, and were\novercome with the deepest affliction. They consulted together, and\ndrew up a petition to the royal council at Stockholm, intreating that\nthey would discover some remedy, and that the government would\ninterpose its authority to put an end to a calamity to which otherwise\nthey could find no limit. The king of Sweden was at that time Charles\nthe Eleventh, father of Charles the Twelfth, and was only fourteen\nyears of age. His council in their wisdom deputed two commissioners\nto Mohra, and furnished them with powers to examine witnesses, and\nto take whatever proceedings they might judge necessary to put an\nend to so unspeakable a calamity.\n\nThey entered on the business of their commission on the thirteenth\nof August, the ceremony having been begun with two sermons in the\ngreat church of Mohra, in which we may be sure the damnable sin of\nwitchcraft was fully dilated on, and concluding with prayers to\nAlmighty God that in his mercy he would speedily bring to an end the\ntremendous misfortune, with which for their sins he had seen fit to\nafflict the poor people of Mohra. The next day they opened their\ncommission. Seventy witches were brought before them. They were all\nat first stedfast in their denial, alleging that the charges were\nwantonly brought against them, solely from malice and ill will. But\nthe judges were earnest in pressing them, till at length first one,\nand then another; burst into tears, and confessed all. Twenty-three\nwere prevailed on thus to disburthen their consciences; but nearly\nthe whole, as well those who owned the justice of their sentence,\nas those who protested their innocence to the last, were executed.\nFifteen children confessed their guilt, and were also executed.\nThirty-six other children (who we may infer did not confess), between\nthe ages of nine and sixteen, were condemned to run the gauntlet,\nand to be whipped on their hands at the church-door every Sunday for\na year together. Twenty others were whipped on their hands for three\nSundays. [226]\n\nThis is certainly a very deplorable scene, and is made the more so\nby the previous character which history has impressed on us, of the\nsimplicity, integrity, and generous love of liberty of the\nDalecarlians. For the children and their parents we can feel nothing\nbut unmingled pity. The case of the witches is different. That three\nhundred children should have been made the victims of this imaginary\nwitchcraft is doubtless a grievous calamity. And that a number of\nwomen should have been found so depraved and so barbarous, as by their\nincessant suggestions to have practised on the minds of these\nchildren, so as to have robbed them of sober sense, to have frightened\nthem into fits and disease, and made them believe the most odious\nimpossibilities, argued a most degenerate character, and well merited\nsevere reprobation, but not death. Add to which, many of these women\nmay be believed innocent, otherwise a great majority of those who\nwere executed, would not have died protesting their entire freedom\nfrom what was imputed to them. Some of the parents no doubt, from\nfolly and ill judgment, aided the alienation of mind in their children\nwhich they afterwards so deeply deplored, and gratified their\nsenseless aversion to the old women, when they were themselves in\nmany cases more the real authors of the evil than those who suffered.\n\n\nWITCHCRAFT IN NEW ENGLAND.\n\nAs a story of witchcraft, without any poetry in it, without any thing\nto amuse the imagination, or interest the fancy, but hard, prosy,\nand accompanied with all that is wretched, pitiful and withering,\nperhaps the well known story of the New England witchcraft surpasses\nevery thing else upon record. The New Englanders were at this time,\ntowards the close of the seventeenth century, rigorous Calvinists,\nwith long sermons and tedious monotonous prayers, with hell before\nthem for ever on one side, and a tyrannical, sour and austere God\non the other, jealous of an arbitrary sovereignty, who hath \"mercy\non whom he will have mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth.\" These\nmen, with long and melancholy faces, with a drawling and sanctified\ntone, and a carriage that would \"at once make the most severely\ndisposed merry, and the most cheerful spectators sad,\" constituted\nnearly the entire population of the province of Massachuset's Bay.\n\nThe prosecutions for witchcraft continued with little intermission\nprincipally at Salem, during the greater part of the year 1692. The\naccusations were of the most vulgar and contemptible sort, invisible\npinchings and blows, fits, with the blastings and mortality of cattle,\nand wains stuck fast in the ground, or losing their wheels. A\nconspicuous feature in nearly the whole of these stories was what\nthey named the \"spectral sight;\" in other words, that the profligate\naccusers first feigned for the most part the injuries they received,\nand next saw the figures and action of the persons who inflicted them,\nwhen they were invisible to every one else. Hence the miserable\nprosecutors gained the power of gratifying the wantonness of their\nmalice, by pretending that they suffered by the hand of any one whose\nname first presented itself, or against whom they bore an ill will.\nThe persons so charged, though unseen by any but the accuser, and\nwho in their corporal presence were at a distance of miles, and were\ndoubtless wholly unconscious of the mischief that was hatching against\nthem, were immediately taken up, and cast into prison. And what was\nmore monstrous and incredible, there stood at the bar the prisoner\non trial for his life, while the witnesses were permitted to swear\nthat his spectre had haunted them, and afflicted them with all manner\nof injuries. That the poor prosecuted wretch stood astonished at what\nwas alleged against him, was utterly overwhelmed with the charges,\nand knew not what to answer, was all of it interpreted as so many\npresumptions of his guilt. Ignorant as they were, they were unhappy\nand unskilful in their defence; and, if they spoke of the devil, as\nwas but natural, it was instantly caught at as a proof how familiar\nthey were with the fiend that had seduced them to their damnation.\n\nThe first specimen of this sort of accusation in the present instance\nwas given by one Paris, minister of a church at Salem, in the end\nof the year 1691, who had two daughters, one nine years old, the other\neleven, that were afflicted with fits and convulsions. The first\nperson fixed on as the mysterious author of what was seen, was Tituba,\na female slave in the family, and she was harassed by her master into\na confession of unlawful practices and spells. The girls then fixed\non Sarah Good, a female known to be the victim of a morbid melancholy,\nand Osborne, a poor man that had for a considerable time been bed-rid,\nas persons whose spectres had perpetually haunted and tormented them:\nand Good was twelve months after hanged on this accusation.\n\nA person, who was one of the first to fall under the imputation, was\none George Burroughs, also a minister of Salem. He had, it seems,\nburied two wives, both of whom the busy gossips said he had used ill\nin their life-time, and consequently, it was whispered, had murdered\nthem. This man was accustomed foolishly to vaunt that he knew what\npeople said of him in his absence; and this was brought as a proof\nthat he dealt with the devil. Two women, who were witnesses against\nhim, interrupted their testimony with exclaiming that they saw the\nghosts of the murdered wives present (who had promised them they would\ncome), though no one else in the court saw them; and this was taken\nin evidence. Burroughs conducted himself in a very injudicious way\non his trial; but, when he came to be hanged, made so impressive a\nspeech on the ladder, with fervent protestations of innocence, as\nmelted many of the spectators into tears.\n\nThe nature of accusations of this sort is ever found to operate like\nan epidemic. Fits and convulsions are communicated from one subject\nto another. The \"spectral sight,\" as it was called, is obviously a\ntheme for the vanity of ignorance. \"Love of fame,\" as the poet\nteaches, is an \"universal passion.\" Fame is placed indeed on a height\nbeyond the hope of ordinary mortals. But in occasional instances it\nis brought unexpectedly within the reach of persons of the coarsest\nmould; and many times they will be apt to seize it with proportionable\navidity. When too such things are talked of, when the devil and\nspirits of hell are made familiar conversation, when stories of this\nsort are among the daily news, and one person and another, who had\na little before nothing extraordinary about them, become subjects\nof wonder, these topics enter into the thoughts of many, sleeping\nand waking: \"their young men see visions, and their old men dream\ndreams.\"\n\nIn such a town as Salem, the second in point of importance in the\ncolony, such accusations spread with wonderful rapidity. Many were\nseized with fits, exhibited frightful contortions of their limbs and\nfeatures, and became a fearful spectacle to the bystander. They were\nasked to assign the cause of all this; and they supposed, or pretended\nto suppose, some neighbour, already solitary and afflicted, and on\nthat account in ill odour with the townspeople, scowling upon,\nthreatening, and tormenting them. Presently persons, specially gifted\nwith the \"spectral sight,\" formed a class by themselves, and were\nsent about at the public expence from place to place, that they might\nsee what no one else could see. The prisons were filled with the\npersons accused. The utmost horror was entertained, as of a calamity\nwhich in such a degree had never visited that part of the world. It\nhappened, most unfortunately, that Baxter's Certainty of the World\nof Spirits had been published but the year before, and a number of\ncopies had been sent out to New England. There seemed a strange\ncoincidence and sympathy between vital Christianity in its most\nhonourable sense, and the fear of the devil, who appeared to be \"come\ndown unto them, with great wrath.\" Mr. Increase Mather, and Mr. Cotton\nMather, his son, two clergymen of highest reputation in the\nneighbourhood, by the solemnity and awe with which they treated the\nsubject, and the earnestness and zeal which they displayed, gave a\nsanction to the lowest superstition and virulence of the ignorant.\n\nAll the forms of justice were brought forward on this occasion. There\nwas no lack of judges, and grand juries, and petty juries, and\nexecutioners, and still less of prosecutors and witnesses. The first\nperson that was hanged was on the tenth of June, five more on the\nnineteenth of July, five on the nineteenth of August, and eight on\nthe twenty-second of September. Multitudes confessed that they were\nwitches; for this appeared the only way for the accused to save their\nlives. Husbands and children fell down on their knees, and implored\ntheir wives and mothers to own their guilt. Many were tortured by\nbeing tied neck and heels together, till they confessed whatever was\nsuggested to them. It is remarkable however that not one persisted\nin her confession at the place of execution.\n\nThe most interesting story that occurred in this affair was of Giles\nCory, and Martha, his wife. The woman was tried on the ninth of\nSeptember, and hanged on the twenty-second. In the interval, on the\nsixteenth, the husband was brought up for trial. He said, he was not\nguilty; but, being asked how he would be tried? he refused to go\nthrough the customary form, and say, \"By God and my country.\" He\nobserved that, of all that had been tried, not one had as yet been\npronounced not guilty; and he resolutely refused in that mode to\nundergo a trial. The judge directed therefore that, according to the\nbarbarous mode prescribed in the mother-country, he should be laid\non his back, and pressed to death with weights gradually accumulated\non the upper surface of his body, a proceeding which had never yet\nbeen resorted to by the English in North America. The man persisted\nin his resolution, and remained mute till he expired.\n\nThe whole of this dreadful tragedy was kept together by a thread.\nThe spectre-seers for a considerable time prudently restricted their\naccusations to persons of ill repute, or otherwise of no consequence\nin the community. By and by however they lost sight of this caution,\nand pretended they saw the figures of some persons well connected,\nand of unquestioned honour and reputation, engaged in acts of\nwitchcraft. Immediately the whole fell through in a moment. The\nleading inhabitants presently saw how unsafe it would be to trust\ntheir reputations and their lives to the mercy of these profligate\naccusers. Of fifty-six bills of indictment that were offered to the\ngrand-jury on the third of January, 1693, twenty-six only were found\ntrue bills, and thirty thrown out. On the twenty-six bills that were\nfound, three persons only were pronounced guilty by the petty jury,\nand these three received their pardon from the government. The prisons\nwere thrown open; fifty confessed witches, together with two hundred\npersons imprisoned on suspicion, were set at liberty, and no more\naccusations were heard of. The \"afflicted,\" as they were technically\ntermed, recovered their health; the \"spectral sight\" was universally\nscouted; and men began to wonder how they could ever have been the\nvictims of so horrible a delusion. [227]\n\n\n\n\nCONCLUSION.\n\n\nThe volume of records of supposed necromancy and witchcraft is\nsufficiently copious, without its being in any way necessary to trace\nit through its latest relics and fragments. Superstition is so\ncongenial to the mind of man, that, even in the early years of the\nauthor of the present volume, scarcely a village was unfurnished with\nan old man or woman who laboured under an ill repute on this score;\nand I doubt not many remain to this very day. I remember, when a\nchild, that I had an old woman pointed out to me by an ignorant\nservant-maid, as being unquestionably possessed of the ominous gift\nof the \"evil eye,\" and that my impulse was to remove myself as quickly\nas might be from the range of her observation.\n\nBut witchcraft, as it appears to me, is by no means so desirable a\nsubject as to make one unwilling to drop it. It has its uses. It is\nperhaps right that we should be somewhat acquainted with this\nrepulsive chapter in the annals of human nature. As the wise man says\nin the Bible, \"It is good for us to resort to the house of those that\nmourn;\" for there is a melancholy which is attended with beneficial\neffects, and \"by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made\nbetter.\" But I feel no propensity to linger in these dreary abodes,\nand would rather make a speedy exchange for the dwellings of\nhealthfulness and a certain hilarity. We will therefore with the\nreader's permission at length shut the book, and say, \"Lo, it is\nenough.\"\n\nThere is no time perhaps at which we can more fairly quit the subject,\nthan when the more enlightened governments of Europe have called for\nthe code of their laws, and have obliterated the statute which annexed\nthe penalty of death to this imaginary crime.\n\nSo early as the year 1672, Louis XIV promulgated an order of the\ncouncil of state, forbidding the tribunals from proceeding to judgment\nin cases where the accusation was of sorcery only. [228]\n\nIn England we paid a much later tribute to the progress of\nillumination and knowledge; and it was not till the year 1736 that\na statute was passed, repealing the law made in the first year of\nJames I, and enacting that no capital prosecution should for the\nfuture take place for conjuration, sorcery and enchantment, but\nrestricting the punishment of persons pretending to tell fortunes\nand discover stolen goods by witchcraft, to that appertaining to a\nmisdemeanour.\n\nAs long as death could by law be awarded against those who were\ncharged with a commerce with evil spirits, and by their means\ninflicting mischief on their species, it is a subject not unworthy\nof grave argument and true philanthropy, to endeavour to detect the\nfallacy of such pretences, and expose the incalculable evils and the\ndreadful tragedies that have grown out of accusations and prosecutions\nfor such imaginary crimes. But the effect of perpetuating the silly\nand superstitious tales that have survived this mortal blow, is\nexactly opposite. It only serves to keep alive the lingering folly\nof imbecile minds, and still to feed with pestiferous clouds the\nthoughts of the ignorant. Let us rather hail with heart-felt gladness\nthe light which has, though late, broken in upon us, and weep over\nthe calamity of our forefathers, who, in addition to the inevitable\nills of our sublunary state, were harassed with imaginary terrors,\nand haunted by suggestions,\n\n  Whose horrid image did unfix their hair,\n  And make their seated hearts knock at their ribs,\n  Against the use of nature.\n\n\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n\n[1] Joshua, vii. 16, _et seq_.\n\n[2] De Arte Poetica, v. 150.\n\n[3] Romans, xi. 32.\n\n[4] Comte de Gabalis.\n\n[5] Genesis xli, 8, 25, &c.\n\n[6] Exodus, vii. 11; viii. 19.\n\n[7] Ibid, xxii. 18.\n\n[8] Deuteronomy, xviii. 10,11.\n\n[9] Leviticus, xx. 27.\n\n[10] Numbers, xxii. 5,6,7.\n\n[11] Numbers, xxiv, 1.\n\n[12] Ibid, xxiii. 23.\n\n[13] 1 Sam. xxviii. 6, _et seq_.\n\n[14] 2 Kings, xxi. 6.\n\n[15] 1 Kings, xxii. 20, _et seqq_.\n\n[16] 1 Chron. xxi. 1,7,14.\n\n[17] 2 Kings, i. 2,3,4.\n\n[18] Matthew, xii. 24.\n\n[19] Genesis, xliv. 5.\n\n[20] Genesis, xliv. 15.\n\n[21] Brewster on Natural Magic, Letter IX.\n\n[22] De Natura Deorum, Lib. I, c. 38.\n\n[23] Plato, De Republica, Lib. X, _sub finem_.\n\n[24] Batrachos, v. 1032.\n\n[25] De Arte Poetica, v.391.\n\n[26] Memoires de l'Academie des Inscriptions, Tom. V, p. 117.\n\n[27] De Arte Poetica, v. 391, 2, 3.\n\n[28] Virgil, Georgiea, Lib. IV. v. 461, _et seqq_.\n\n[29] Georgiea, iv, 525.\n\n[30] Metamorphoses, xi, 55.\n\n[31] Philostratus, Heroica, cap. v.\n\n[32] Horat, de Arte Poetica, v. 394. Pausanias.\n\n[33] Odyssey, Lib. XI, v. 262.\n\n[34] Statius, Thebais, Lib. X. v. 599.\n\n[35] Ibid, Lib. IV, v. 599.\n\n[36] Ibid, Lib. IV, v. 409, _et seqq_.\n\n[37] Lib. IV, c. 36.\n\n[38] Iamblichus.\n\n[39] Julius Firmicus, _apud_ Scaliger, in Eusebium.\n\n[40] Iamblichus, Vita Pythagorae.\n\n[41] Pluto, Charmides.\n\n[42] Chronological Account of Pythagoras and his Contemporaries.\n\n[43] Laertius, Lib. VIII, c. 3.\n\n[44] Lloyd, _ubi supra_.\n\n[45] Iamblichus, c. 17.\n\n[46] Iamblichus, c. 29.\n\n[47] Ibid, c. 7.\n\n[48] Laertius, c. 15.\n\n[49] Ibid, c. 11.\n\n[50] Plutarchus, Symposiaca, Lib. VIII, Quaestio 2.\n\n[51] Aulus Gellius, Lib. I, c. 1, from Plutarch.\n\n[52] Laertius, c.19.\n\n[53] Bailly, Histoire de l'Astronomie, Lib VIII, S.3.\n\n[54] Plutarchus, de Esu Carnium. Ovidius, Metamorphoses, Lib. XV.\nLaertius, c. 12.\n\n[55] Iamblichus, c. 16.\n\n[56] Laertius, c. 6.\n\n[57] Clemens Alexandrinus, Stromata, Lib. I, p. 302.\n\n[58] Iamblichus, c.17.\n\n[59] Laertius, c. 8. Iamblichus, c. 17.\n\n[60] Cicero de Natura Deorum, Lib. I, c. 5.\n\n[61] Laertius, c. 9.\n\n[62] Ibid.\n\n[63] Iamblichus, c. 19.\n\n[64] Laertius, c.1.\n\n[65] Ibid, c. 18.\n\n[66] Iamblichus, c. 8.\n\n[67] Ibid, c. 13.\n\n[68] Laertius, c. 9. Iamblichus, c. 28.\n\n[69] Laertius, c. 9. Iamblichus, c. 18.\n\n[70] Ibid, c. 28.\n\n[71] Laertius, c.21.\n\n[72] Iamblichus, c.17.\n\n[73] Iamblichus, c. 35. Laertius, c. 21.\n\n[74] Laertius, c. 21.\n\n[75] Laertius, Lib. I, c. 109. Plinius, Lib. VII, c. 52.\n\n[76] Laertius, c. 113.\n\n[77] Ibid.\n\n[78] Ibid. c. 111.\n\n[79] Plutarch, Vita Solonis. Laertius, Lib. I, c. 109.\n\n[80] Plutarch, Vita Solonis. Laertius, Lib. I, c. 110.\n\n[81] Ibid.\n\n[82] Laertius, Lib. VIII, c. 51, 64.\n\n[83] Ibid, c. 57.\n\n[84] Ibid, c. 66.\n\n[85] Ibid, c. 73.\n\n[86] Plinius, Lib. VII, c. 52. Laertius, c. 61.\n\n[87] Laertius, c. 77.\n\n[88] Ibid, c. 59.\n\n[89] Ibid, c. 62.\n\n[90] Laertias, c. 69. Horat, De Arte Poetica, v. 463.\n\n[91] Herodotus, Lib. III, c. 14, 15. Plinius, Lib. VII, c. 52.\n\n[92] Plutarch, De Genio Socratis. Lucian, Muscae Encomium. Plinius,\nLib. VII, c. 52. [Errata: _dele_ Plinius]\n\n[93] Plinius, Lib. III, c, 61, 62.\n\n[94] Herodotus, Lib. VIII, c. 36, 37, 38, 39.\n\n[95] Herodotus, Lib. VIII, c. 140, _et seqq_.\n\n[96] Historia Naturalis, Lib. X, c. 40.\n\n[97] Plinius, Lib. XXVIII. c. 8.\n\n[98] Pseudomantis, c. 17. See also Philopseudes, c. 32.\n\n[99] Theages.\n\n[100] Plutarch, De Genio Socratis.\n\n[101] Xenophon, Memorabilia, Lib. I, c. 1.\n\n[102] Plutarch, _ubi supra_.\n\n[103] Plato, Theages.\n\n[104] Ibid.\n\n[105] Livius, Lib. I, c. 16.\n\n[106] Dionysius Halicarnassensis.\n\n[107] Livius, Lib. I, c. 19, 21.\n\n[108] Livius, Lib. I, c. 31.\n\n[109] Ibid.\n\n[110] Livius, Lib. I, c. 36.\n\n[111] Livius, Lib. I, c. 39.\n\n[112] Livius, Lib. III, c. 6, _et seqq_.\n\n[113] Epod. V.\n\n[114] Metamorphoses, Lib. VII.\n\n[115] Lib. VI.\n\n[116] Horat., de Arte Poetica, v. 150.\n\n[117] Plutarch, North's Translation.\n\n[118] Matt. c. xii, v. 24, 27.\n\n[119] Acts, c. viii.\n\n[120] Clemens Romanus, Recognitiones, Lib. II, cap. 9. Anastasius\nSinaita, Quaestiones; Quaestio 20.\n\n[121] Clemens Romanus, Constitutiones Apostolici, Lib. VI, cap. 7.\n\n[122] Acts, c. xiii.\n\n[123] Ibid, c. xix.\n\n[124] Suetonius, Lib. VI, cap. 14.\n\n[125] Tacitus, Historiae, Lib. IV, cap. 81. Suetonius, Lib. VIII,\ncap. 7.\n\n[126] Hume, Essays, Part III, Section X.\n\n[127] Philostratus, Vita Apollonii, Lib. I, cap. 5, 6.\n\n[128] Philostratus, Vita Apollonii, Lib. I, c. 10.\n\n[129] Ibid, c.13.\n\n[130] Ibid, c. 13, 14.\n\n[131] Philostratus, Lib. IV, c. 10.\n\n[132] Philostratus, Lib. IV, c. 25.\n\n[133] Philostratus, Lib. IV, c. 45.\n\n[134] Philostratus, Lib. VIII, c. 5.\n\n[135] Ibid, c. 26.\n\n[136] Philostratus, Lib. VIII, c. 29, 30.\n\n[137] Ibid, c. 29.\n\n[138] Lampridius, in Vita Alex. Severi, c. 29.\n\n[139] C. 24.\n\n[140] Philostratus, Lib. I, c. 3.\n\n[141] Zosimus, Lib, IV, cap. 13. Gibbon observes, that the name of\nTheodosius, who actually succeeded, begins with the same letters which\nwere indicated in this magic trial.\n\n[142] Zosimus, Lib. IV, cap.  14.\n\n[143] Gibbon, Chap. VIII.\n\n[144] This word is of Sanscrit original.\n\n[145] \"They cut themselves with knives and lancets, till the blood\ngushed out upon them.\" I Kings, xviii, 28.\n\n[146] Otherwise, Deeves.\n\n[147] D'Herbelot, Biblioth\u00e8que Orientale.\n\n[148] D'Herbelot, Biblioth\u00e8que Orientale.\n\n[149] It is in Selden's Collection of Ballads in the Bodleian Library.\nSee Letters from the Bodleian, Vol. I, p. 120 to 126.\n\n[150] Spenser, Fairy Queen, Book III, Canto III, stanza 9, _et seqq_.\n\n[151] William of Malmesbury, Lib. II, c. 10.\n\n[152] William of Malmesbury, Lib. II, c. 10.\n\n[153] Naud\u00e9, Apologie des Grands Hommes Accus\u00e9s de Magie. Malmesbury,\n_ubi supra_.\n\n[154] Naud\u00e9, Apologie des Grands Hommes Accus\u00e9s de Magie, chap. 19.\n\n[155] Mornay, Mysterium Iniquitalis, p. 258. Coeffeteau, Reponse \u00e0\nditto, p. 274.\n\n[156] Ibid.\n\n[157] Hollinshed, History of Scotland, p. 206, 207.\n\n[158] Ibid. p. 207, 208.\n\n[159] Hollinshed, History of Scotland, p. 243, 244.\n\n[160] Hollinshed, History of Scotland, p. 244, 245.\n\n[161] Hollinshed, History of Scotland, p. 246.\n\n[162] Ibid, p. 248, 249.\n\n[163] Hollinshed, History of Scotland, p. 249.\n\n[164] Ibid.\n\n[165] Hollinshed, History of Scotland, p. 251.\n\n[166] Naud\u00e9.\n\n[167] Godwin, Praesulibus, art. Gronthead.\n\n[168] Naud\u00e9 c. 18.\n\n[169] Johannes de Becka, _apud_ Trithemii Chronica, ann. 1254.\n\n[170] Freind, History of Physick, Vol. II, p. 234 to 239.\n\n[171] Bacon, Epist. ad Clement. IV.\n\n[172] Ubi supra.\n\n[173] See page 261.\n\n[174] Naud\u00e9, Cap. 17.\n\n[175] Ibid.\n\n[176] Commentaries, Book IV. chap. vi.\n\n[177] Life of Chaucer, c. xviii.\n\n[178] Wotton, Reflections on Learning, Chap. X.\n\n[179] See above, p. 29.\n\n[180] Biographic Universelle.\n\n[181] Naud\u00e9.\n\n[182] Moreri.\n\n[183] Enfield, History of Philosophy, Book VIII, chapter i.\n\n[184] Moreri.\n\n[185] Watson, Chemical Essays, Vol. I.\n\n[186] Fuller, Worthies of England.\n\n[187] Watson, _ubi supra_.\n\n[188] Sir Thomas More, History of Edward the Fifth.\n\n[189] Buck, Life and Reign of Richard III.\n\n[190] Hutchinson on Witchcraft.\n\n[191] I Samuel, xv, 23.\n\n[192] Doctrine of Divorce, Preface.\n\n[193] Delrio, Disquisitiones Magicae, p. 746.\n\n[194] Alciatus, Parergon Juris, L. VIII, cap. 22.\n\n[195] Danaeus, _apud_ Delrio, Proloquium.\n\n[196] Bartholomaeus de Spina, De Strigibus, c. 13.\n\n[197] Biographie Universelle.\n\n[198] Biographie Universelle.\n\n[199] Hospinian, Historia Sacramentaria, Part II, fol. 131.\n\n[200] Bayle.\n\n[201] Paulus Jovius, Elogia Doctorum Virorum, c.101.\n\n[202] Delrio, Disquisitiones Magicae, Lib. II, Quaestio xi, S. 18.\n\n[203] Delrio, Lib. II, Quaestio xxix. S. 7.\n\n[204] Wierus, Lib. II, c.v. S. 11, 12.\n\n[205] Cent. I, cap. 70.\n\n[206] De Praestigiis Demonum, Lib. II, cap. iv, sect. 8.\n\n[207] Durrius, _apud_ Schelhorn, Amoenitates Literariae, Tom. V,\np.50, _et seqq_.\n\n[208] Memoirs, p. 14.\n\n[209] Brewster, Letters on Natural Magic, Letter IV.\n\n[210] Appendix to Johannes Glastoniensis, edited by Hearne.\n\n[211] Camden, anno 1693, 1694.\n\n[212] Pitcairn, Trials in Scotland in Five Volumes, 4to.\n\n[213] King James's Works, p. 135.\n\n[214] King James's Works, p. 135, 136.\n\n[215] Truth brought to Light by Time. Wilson, History of James I.\n\n[216] Fuller, Church History of Britain, Book X, p. 74. See also\nOsborn's Works, Essay I: where the author says, he \"gave charge to\nhis judges, to be circumspect in condemning those, committed by\nignorant justices for diabolical compacts. Nor had he concluded his\nadvice in a narrower circle, as I have heard, than the denial of any\nsuch operations, but out of reason of state, and to gratify the\nchurch, which hath in no age thought fit to explode out of the common\npeople's minds an apprehension of witchcraft.\" The author adds, that\nhe \"must confess James to have been the promptest man living in his\ndexterity to discover an imposture,\" and subjoins a remarkable story\nin confirmation of this assertion.\n\n[217] Discovery of the Witches, 1612, printed by order of the Court.\n\n[218] History of Whalley, by Thomas Dunham Whitaker, p. 215.\n\n[219] Wood, Athenae Oxonienses, Vol. II, p. 507.\n\n[220] Heylyn, Life of Laud.\n\n[221] Hutchinson on Witchcraft.\n\n[222] Menagiana, Tom. II, p. 252, _et seqq_.\n\n[223] Judges, v, 20.\n\n[224] Certainty of the World of Spirits.\n\n[225] Trial of the Witches executed at Bury St. Edmund's.\n\n[226] Narrative translated by Dr. Horneck, _apud_ Satan's\nInvisible World by Sinclair, and Sadducismus Triumphatus by\nGlanville.\n\n[227] Cotton Mather, Wonders of the Invisible World; Calef, More\nWonders of the Invisible World; Neal, History of New England.\n\n[228] Menagiana, Tom II, p. 264. Voltaire, Si\u00e8cle de Louis XIV, Chap.\nxxxi.","title":"Lives of the Necromancers","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":109912}