Читать книгу Myths and Marvels of Astronomy - Richard Anthony Proctor - Страница 6
ОглавлениеHorary astrology relates to particular questions, and is a comparatively easy branch of the science. The art of casting nativities requires many years of study; but horary astrology 'may be well understood,' says Lilly, 'in less than a quarter of a year.' 'If a proposition of any nature,' he adds, 'be made to any individual, about the result of which he is anxious, and therefore uncertain whether to accede to it or not, let him but note the hour and minute when it was first made, and erect a figure of the heavens, and his doubts will be instantly resolved. He may thus in five minutes learn whether the affair will succeed or not: and consequently whether it is prudent to accept the offer made or not. If he examine the sign on the first house of the figure, the planet therein, or the planet ruling the sign, will exactly describe the party making the offer, both in person and character, and this may at once convince the enquirer for truth of the reality of the principles of the science. Moreover, the descending sign, etc., will describe his own person and character—a farther proof of the truth of the science.'
There is one feature of horary astrology which is probably almost as ancient as any portion of the science, yet which remains even to the present day, and will probably remain for many years to come. I refer to the influence which the planets were supposed to exert on the successive hours of every day—a belief from which the division of time into weeks of seven days unquestionably had its origin—though we may concede that the subdivision of the lunar month into four equal parts was also considered in selecting this convenient measure of time. Every hour had its planet. Now dividing twenty-four by seven, we get three and three over; whence, each day containing twenty-four hours, it follows that in each day the complete series of seven planets was run through three times, and three planets of the next series were used. The order of the planets was that of their distances, as indicated above. Saturn came first, then Jupiter, Mars, the Sun, Venus, Mercury, and the Moon. Beginning with Saturn, as ruling the first hour of Saturn's day (Saturday), we get through the above series three times, and have for the last three hours of the day, Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars. Thus the next hour, the first hour of the next day, belongs to the sun—Sunday follows Saturday. We again run three times through the series, and the three remaining hours are governed by the sun, Venus, and Mercury—giving the moon as the first planet for the next day. Monday thus follows Sunday. The last three hours of Monday are ruled by the moon, Saturn, and Jupiter; leaving Mars to govern the next day—Martis dies, Mardi, Tuesday or Tuisco's day. Proceeding in the same way, we get Mercury for the next day, Mercurii dies, Mercredi, Wednesday or Woden's day; Jupiter for the next day, Jovis dies, Jeudi, Thursday or Thor's day; Venus for the next day, Veneris dies, Vendredi, Friday or Freya's day; and so we come to Saturday again.[14]
The period of seven days, which had its origin in, and derived its nomenclature from astrological ideas, shows by its wide prevalence how widely astrological superstitions were once spread among the nations. As Whewell remarks (though, for reasons which will readily be understood he was by no means anxious to dwell upon the true origin of the Sabbatical week), 'the usage is found over all the East; it existed among the Arabians, Assyrians, and Egyptians. The same week is found in India, among the Brahmins; it has there also its days marked by the names of the heavenly bodies; and it has been ascertained that the same day has, in that country, the name corresponding with its designation in other nations. … The period has gone on without interruption or irregularity from the earliest recorded times to our own days, traversing the extent of ages and the revolutions of empires; the names of ancient deities, which were associated with the stars, were replaced by those of the objects of the worship of our Teutonic ancestors, according to their views of the correspondence of the two mythologies; and the Quakers, in rejecting these names of days, have cast aside the most ancient existing relic of astrological as well as idolatrous superstition.
Not only do the names remain, but some of the observances connected with the old astrological systems remain even to this day. As ceremonies derived from Pagan worship are still continued, though modified in form, and with a different interpretation, in Christian and especially Roman Catholic observances, so among the Jews and among Christians the rites and ceremonies of the old Egyptian and Chaldæan astrology are still continued, though no longer interpreted as of yore. The great Jewish Lawgiver and those who follow him seem, for example, to have recognised the value of regular periods of rest (whether really required by man or become a necessity through long habit), but to have been somewhat in doubt how best to continue the practice without sanctioning the superstitions with which it had been connected. At any rate two different and inconsistent interpretations were given in the earlier and later codes of law. But whether the Jews accepted the Sabbath because they believed that an All-powerful Being, having created the world in six days, required and took rest ('and was refreshed') on the seventh, as stated in Exodus (xx. 11 and xxxi. 17), or whether they did so in remembrance of their departure from Egypt, as stated in Deuteronomy (v. 15), there can be no question that among the Egyptians the Sabbath or Saturn's day was a day of rest because of the malignant nature of the powerful planet-deity who presided over that day. Nor can it be seriously doubted that the Jews descended from the old Chaldæans, among whom (as appears from stone inscriptions recently discovered) the very word Sabbath was in use for a seventh day of rest connected with astrological observances, were familiar with the practice even before their sojourn in Egypt. They had then probably regarded it as a superstitious practice to be eschewed like those idolatrous observances which had caused Terah to remove with Abraham and Lot from Ur of the Chaldees. At any rate, we find no mention of the seventh day of rest as a religious observance until after the Exodus.[15] It was not their only religious observance having in reality an astrological origin. Indeed, if we examine the Jewish sacrificial system as described in Numbers xxviii. and elsewhere, we shall find throughout a tacit reference to the motions or influences of the celestial bodies. There was the morning and evening sacrifice guided by the movements of the sun; the Sabbath offering, determined by the predominance of Saturn; the offering of the new moon, depending on the motions of the moon; and lastly, the Paschal sacrifice, depending on the combined movements of the sun and moon—made, in fact, during the lunation following the sun's ascending passage of the equator at the sign of Aries.
Let us return, however, after this somewhat long digression, to astrological matters.
Horary astrology is manifestly much better fitted than the casting of nativities for filling the pocket of the astrologer himself; because only one nativity can be cast, but any number of horary questions can be asked. It is on account of their skill in horary astrology that the Zadkiels of our own time have occasionally found their way into the twelfth house, or House of Enemies. Even Lilly himself, not devoting, it would seem, five minutes to inquire into the probable success of the affair, was indicted in 1655 by a half-witted young woman, because he had given judgment respecting stolen goods, receiving two shillings and sixpence, contrary to an Act made under and provided by the wise and virtuous King James, First of England and Sixth of Scotland.
State astrology relates to the destinies of kingdoms, thrones, empires, and may be regarded as a branch of horary science relating to subjects (and rulers) of more than ordinary importance.
In former ages all persons likely to occupy an important position in the history of the world had their horoscopes erected; but in these degenerate days neither the casting of nativities nor the art of ruling the planets flourishes as it should do. Our Zadkiels and Raphaëls publish, indeed, the horoscopes of kings and emperors, princes and princesses, and so forth; but their fate is as that of Benedict (according to Beatrice)—men 'wonder they will still be talking, for nobody marks them.' Even those whose horoscopes have been erected show no proper respect for the predictions made in their behalf. Thus the Prince of Wales being born when Sagittarius was in the ascendant should have been, according to Zadkiel, a tall man, with oval face, ruddy complexion, somewhat dusky, and so forth; but I understand he has by no means followed these directions as to his appearance. The sun, being well aspected, prognosticated honours—a most remarkable and unlooked-for circumstance, strangely fulfilled by the event; but then being in Cancer, in sextile with Mars, the Prince of Wales was to be partial to maritime affairs and attain naval glory, whereas as a field-marshal he can only win military glory. (I would not be understood to say that he is not quite as competent to lead our fleets as our battalions into action.) The House of Wealth was occupied by Jupiter, aspected by Saturn, which betokened great wealth through inheritance—a prognostication, says Professor Miller, which is not unlikely to come true. The House of Marriage was unsettled by the conflicting influences of Venus, Mars, and Saturn; but the first predominating, the Prince, after some trouble in his matrimonial speculations, was to marry a Princess of high birth, and one not undeserving of his kindest and most affectionate attention, probably in 1862. As to the date, an almanack informs me that the Prince married a Danish Princess in March 1863, which looks like a most culpable neglect of the predictions of our national astrologer. Again, in May 1870, when Saturn was stationary in the ascending degree, the Prince ought to have been injured by a horse, and also to have received a blow on the left side of the head, near the ear; but reprehensibly omitted both these ceremonies. A predisposition to fever and epileptic attacks was indicated by the condition of the House of Sickness. The newspapers described, a few years since, a serious attack of fever; but as most persons have some experience of the kind, the fulfilment of the prediction can hardly be regarded as very wonderful. Epileptic attacks, which, as less common, might have saved the credit of the astrologers, have not visited 'this royal native.' The position of Saturn in Capricorn betokened loss or disaster in one or other of the places ruled over by Capricorn—which, as we have seen, are India, Macedonia, Thrace, Greece, Mexico, Saxony, Wilna, Mecklenburgh, Brandenburgh, and Oxford. Professor Miller expresses the hope that Oxford was the place indicated, and the disaster nothing more serious than some slight scrape with the authorities of Christchurch. But princes never get into scrapes with college dons. Probably some one or other of the 'hair-breadth 'scapes' chronicled by the reporters of his travels in India was the event indicated by the ominous position of Saturn in Capricorn.
A remarkable list of characteristics were derived by Zadkiel from the positions of the various planets and signs in the twelve houses of the 'royal native.' Some, of course, were indicated in more ways than one, which will explain the parenthetical notes in the following alphabetical table which Professor Miller has been at the pains to draw up from Zadkiel's predictions. The prince was to be 'acute, affectionate, amiable, amorous, austere, avaricious, beneficent, benevolent, brave, brilliant, calculated for government' (a quality which may be understood two ways), 'candid, careful of his person, careless, compassionate, courteous (twice over), delighting in eloquence, discreet, envious, fond of glory, fond of learning, fond of music, fond of poetry, fond of sports, fond of the arts and sciences, frank, full of expedients, generous (three times), gracious, honourable, hostile to crime, impervious, ingenious, inoffensive, joyous, just (twice), laborious, liberal, lofty, magnanimous, modest, noble, not easy to be understood (!), parsimonious, pious (twice), profound in opinion, prone to regret his acts, prudent, rash, religious, reverent, self-confident, sincere, singular in mode of thinking, strong, temperate, unreserved, unsteady, valuable in friendship, variable, versatile, violent, volatile, wily, and worthy.' Zadkiel concludes thus:—'The square of Saturn to the moon will add to the gloomy side of the picture, and give a tinge of melancholy at times to the native's character, and also a disposition to look at the dark side of things, and lead him to despondency; nor will he be at all of a sanguine character, but cool and calculating, though occasionally rash. Yet, all things considered, though firm and sometimes positive in opinion, this royal native, if he live to mount the throne, will sway the sceptre of these realms in moderation and justice, and be a pious and benevolent man, and a merciful sovereign.' Fortunately, the time has long since passed when swaying the sceptre of these realms had any but a figurative meaning, or when Englishmen who obeyed their country's laws depended on the mercy of any man, or when even bad citizens were judged by princes. But we still prefer that princes should be well-mannered gentlemen, and therefore it is sincerely to be hoped that Zadkiel's prediction, so far as it relates to piety and benevolence, may be fulfilled, should this 'royal native' live to mount the throne. As for mercy, it is a goodly quality even in these days and in this country; for if the law no longer tolerates cruelty to men, even on the part of princes, who once had prescribed rights in that direction, there are still some cruel, nay brutal sports in which 'royal natives' might sometimes be tempted to take part. Wherefore let us hope that, even in regard to mercy, the predictions of astrologers respecting this 'royal native' may be fulfilled.
Passing however, from trivialities, let us consider the lessons which the history of astrology teaches us respecting the human mind, its powers and weaknesses. It has been well remarked by Whewell that for many ages 'mysticism in its various forms was a leading character both of the common mind and the speculations of the most intelligent and profound reasoners.' Thus mysticism was the opposite of that habit of thought which science requires, 'namely, clear ideas, distinctly employed to connect well-ascertained facts; inasmuch as the ideas in which it dealt were vague and unstable, and the temper in which they were contemplated was an urgent and aspiring enthusiasm, which could not submit to a calm conference with experience upon even terms.' We have seen what has been the history of one particular form of the mysticism of ancient and mediæval ages. If we had followed the history of alchemy, magic, and other forms of mysticism, we should have seen similar results. True science has gradually dispossessed science falsely so called, until now none but the weaker minds hold by the tenets formerly almost universally adopted. In mere numbers, believers in the ancient superstitions may be by no means insignificant; but they no longer have any influence. It has become a matter of shame to pay any attention to what those few say or do who not merely hold but proclaim the ancient faith in these matters. We can also see why this has been. In old times enthusiasm usurped the place of reason in these cases; but opinions so formed and so retained could not maintain their ground in the presence of reasoning and experience. So soon as intelligent and thoughtful men perceived that facts were against the supposed mysterious influences of the stars, the asserted powers of magicians, the pretended knowledge of alchemists, the false teachings of magic, alchemy, and astrology, were rejected. The lesson thus learned respecting erroneous doctrines which were once widely prevalent has its application in our time, when, though the influence of those teachings has passed away, other doctrines formerly associated with them still hold their ground. Men in old times, influenced by erroneous teachings, wasted their time and energies in idle questionings of the stars, vain efforts to find Arcana of mysterious power, and to acquire magical authority over the elements. Is it altogether clear that in these our times men are not hampered, prevented to some degree from doing all the good they might do in the short life-time allotted to them, by doctrines of another kind? Is there in our day no undue sacrifice of present good in idle questionings? is there no tendency to trust in a vain fetishism to prevent or remove evils which energy could avert or remedy? The time will come, in my belief, when the waste of those energies which in these days are devoted (not merely with the sanction, but the high approval, of some of the best among us) to idle aims, will be deplored as regretfully—but, alas, as idly—as the wasted speculations and labours of those whom Whewell has justly called the most intelligent and profound reasoners of the 'stationary age' of science. The words with which Whewell closes his chapter on the 'Mysticism of the Middle Ages' have their application to the mysticism of the nineteenth century:—'Experience collects her stores in vain, or ceases to collect them, when she can only pour them into the flimsy folds of the lap of Mysticism, who is, in truth, so much absorbed in looking for the treasures which are to fall from the skies, that she heeds little how scantily she obtains, or how loosely she holds, such riches as she might find beside her.'