Part 2

The art of augury the Romans had from the Tuscans, and the Tuscans from the Greeks, who probably derived it from the Chaldeans; but the progress of the art is as absurd as the origin of it is obscure. The only wonder is, that it had so much influence upon a people, in the whole of whose history we find so many brilliant examples of solid sense, of learning, and of eloquence. Their historians, who rank among the most learned of their writers, and of whose abilities we can even now be judges, gravely relate the process of consulting augury, and the success of it. Yet the augurs were men following one another in regular succession. Was there none to betray the secret? Was the art of juggling an hereditary secret without one interruption? Tyranny first broke the chain. When Rome was governed by tyrants, these despised augury, and prosecuted their wicked purposes, whatever might be the appearance of the entrails of an ox; and as they, no doubt, often succeeded in their enterprises, augury would naturally fall into disrepute. These circumstances, in the great chain of causes and events, would naturally pave the way for a more rational religion. We are indebted to Henry VIII. for the commencement of the reformation; but, if the pope would have sanctioned his lust and his extortion, that advantage would have probably been derived from a better sovereign.

It is a circumstance no less remarkable, that, notwithstanding we read of the superstitions of the Greeks and Romans with wonder and some degree of contempt, we cannot acquit ourselves of having yet retained a very considerable portion Of the same superstitious spirit. We are even indebted to them for almost all our popular whims. A hare crossing the way—a person sneezing—stumbling—hearing strange voices—and the falling of salt upon the table, were all with them omens of good or evil, according to circumstances, and remain so with thousands at the present time, and in this enlightened country. Persons of otherwise no mean understanding have been greatly perplexed, and have even turned pale at such occurrences. To the above may be added, a coal starting from the fire[3]—the death-watch—the sediment of the sugar rising to the top of the tea-cup, and many others. We may also mention the success of those impostors, who pretend to calculate nativities (_see_ ASTROLOGY) and predict events; and the many foolish instances for belief in the success of lottery-tickets.

Ignorant as the Romans were of a superintending Providence, and of the revealed will of the Divine Majesty, their trust in such omens was pardonable, and deceived as they were by the artifices of their soothsayers, who could contrive to _time_ their prophecies, and express them in such a manner that they should appear to be punctually fulfilled, we cannot wonder if the wisest among them were induced to place confidence in imposture. But that we should be as much attached to this species of divination is a weakness, than which there is none we ought more to blush at. Although we boast of our superior understanding, improved as it is by the knowledge of eighteen centuries, we are guilty of a weakness which is excusable only in an unenlightened heathen. This subject might, perhaps, be treated with the ridicule of satire, or the silence of contempt, but the more we consider it, the more we should be inclined to doubt the fact, that there can exist a human and reasonable being so weak, as to believe that futurity can be revealed by trifling events, or by the lowest of mankind, under the name of conjurors. But the fact cannot be doubted: cases of the kind occur every day; and the happiness of individuals and families often lies at the mercy of such impostors.

Those who are addicted to this species of superstitious credulity are no doubt of that class of people who are called _well-meaning_, and would be greatly incensed were we to ask them whether they believed in the superintendence of a Divine Providence. They would answer, “Surely—God forbid we did not!” And yet, is it consistent with our received ideas, or with the revealed wisdom and perfections of the Deity, to suppose that he should declare that futurity is locked up from the penetration of mankind, and yet should reveal the events of it by the sediments of a cup of coffee, the flame of a candle, or the starting of a sulphureous coal? Is not this offering the greatest insult to him? A step farther, we have, indeed, gone, and but a step towards the very highest insult; we have supposed that he makes known the secrets of futurity to the meanest vagrants and impostors, to the men and women whom the magistrate very properly punishes as much against their foreknowledge as against their inclination. The impossibility of our acquiring by any means a knowledge of future events, and the miserable condition of human life if we had that knowledge, might be here insisted on; but they must be obvious to every thinking man. A better dissuasive from the credulity which is the subject of this discourse, would be to insist upon the gross and insulting impiety of endeavouring to pry into what the Deity has pronounced hidden and concealed, and that by agents the most mean and contemptible. Let those who are still credulous in the appearance of their coffee grounds, their spilling of salt, their passing under a ladder or scaffolding[4], and all the paraphernalia of the impostures of pretended divines, consider with what propriety, decency and respect, they can hereafter appeal to the Deity by the epithets of _all-seeing_ and _omniscient_; and when they have done that, let them reflect upon the dignity and importance of those agents, in whose revelations they confide, in preference to his decrees.

Under the head of superstition may be ranked fatalism; for it follows from this dogma of faith, that all means of averting predestined events, that is, all future events whatever, are not only unavailing, but impious. It is manifest, that if this were consistently adhered to, every effort conducive to self-preservation, or even the common comforts and accommodations of life, would be paralysed; there would be no end to all the duties of social life; nay, to the very existence of the human species. Though this speculative principle, however, has never been able entirely to overpower and extinguish the feelings and dictates of nature to this extent, except among a few fantastical maniacs, there are proofs enough in the history of mankind of its pernicious practical effects. One of the most conspicuous examples of this, is found among the professors of the Mahomedan faith, in their abstaining from the means of stopping the progress of the plague. Among Christian sects, professing this doctrine, the like evils have arisen in an inferior degree, as exemplified in the opposition which the inoculation of the small-pox met with from this religious prejudice. _See Sir Gilbert Blane’s Elements of Medical Logic, page 208._

PROOFS AND TRIALS OF GUILT IN SUPERSTITIOUS AGES.

It were well, perhaps, did the cruelties practised in former ages lay generally at the door of superstition. The extraordinary trials to which those suspected of any guilty action were conducted with many devout ceremonies, by the ministers of religion, were declared to be the judgments of God. The kinds of ordeal were various, _e. g._ holding in the hand a red hot bar; plunging the arm into boiling water; walking blindfold amidst burning ploughshares; passing through fires; challenging the accuser to single combat, when frequently the ablest champion was permitted to supply his place; swallowing a morsel of consecrated bread; swimming or sinking in a river for witchcraft, or, as it was called, weighing a witch; stretching out the arms before the cross, till the soonest wearied dropped his arms, and lost his estate, which was decided by this very short process, called _juidcium crucis_, &c.

A dispute occurred between the Bishop of Paris and the Abbot of St. Denis, about the patronage of a monastery, and Pepin, surnamed the Short, not being able to pronounce upon their confused claims, decreed that it should be settled by one of these judgments of God: viz. _The judgment of the cross._ Each of the disputants chose a man, and both of the men appeared in the chapel, where they extended their arms in the form of a cross. The spectators, more orderly than those of the present day; still, although they watched every motion of the combatants with the most pious attention, the old English spirit, which rules so prevalently at the present period, was proof against every other consideration—they betted on the feat, first on one side, then on the other, according as the odds seemed to run in favour or against. The Bishop’s man was first tried; he let his arms drop and ruined his patron for ever. Though these trials might sometimes be evaded by the artifice of the priest, numerous, nevertheless, were the innocent victims who suffered from these superstitious practices.

They were very frequent between the tenth and twelfth century. William Rufus, having accused Hildebert, the Bishop of Mans, of high treason, was on the verge of submitting to one of these trials, when he was convinced by Ives, Bishop of Chartres, that they were against the canons of the constitution of the church, and adds, that in this manner “_Innocentiam defendere, est innocentiam perdere_.” In 1066 an abbot of St. Aubin of Angers, having refused to present a horse to the viscount of Tours, which the viscount claimed in right of his lordship, whenever an abbot first took possession of that abbey; the ecclesiastic offered to justify himself by the trial of the ordeal, or by duel, for which purpose he proposed to find a substitute. The duel was first agreed to by the viscount; but, reflecting that these combatants, though sanctioned by the church, depended solely on the address or vigour of the adversary, and consequently could afford no substantial proof of the equity of his claim, he proposed to compromise the matter in a manner which strongly characterised these times: he surrendered his claim, on condition that the abbot should not forget to mention him, his wife, and his brothers, in his prayers! As the orisons appeared to the abbot of comparatively little value with the horse, the proposal was accepted.

In the tenth century the right of representation was not settled: it was a question whether a son’s sons ought to be accounted among the children of the family, and succeed equally with their uncles, if their fathers happened to die while their grandfathers survived. This point was decided by one of these combats. The champion in behalf of the right of children to represent their deceased father, proved victorious. It was then established by a perpetual decree, that they should from that time forward share in the inheritance along with their uncles.

In the eleventh century, the same mode was adopted, to decide between two rival liturgies! A couple of knights, clad in complete armour, were the tests to decide which was the true and authentic liturgy.

The capitularies of Dagobert say, that if two neighbours dispute respecting the boundaries of their possessions, let a piece of turf of the contested land be dug up by the judge, and brought by him into the court, and the two parties shall touch it with the points of their swords, calling on God to witness their claims: after this, let them combat, and let victory prove who is right or who is wrong. In these combats in Germany, a solemn circumstance was practised in these judicial combats. In the midst of the lists they placed a _bier_; by the side of which stood the accuser and the accused, one at the head and the other at the foot, where they leaned in profound silence for some time before the combat commenced. In his preface to Way’s Fableaux, Mr. Ellis shews how faithfully the manners of the age are painted in these ancient tales, by observing the judicial combat introduced by a writer of the 14th century, who, in his poem, represents Pilate as challenging Jesus Christ to _single combat_; and another, who describes the person who pierced the side of Christ as a knight who jousted with Jesus.

It appears that judicial combat was practised by the Jews. Whenever the Rabbins had to decide on a dispute about property between two parties, neither of which could produce evidence to substantiate the claim, it was terminated by single combat. The Rabbins were impressed with a notion that consciousness of right would give additional confidence and strength to the rightful possessor. It may, however, be more philosophical to observe, that such judicial combats were more frequently favourable to the criminal than to the innocent, because the bold wicked man is usually more ferocious and hardy than he whom he singles out as his victim, and who only wishes to preserve his own quiet enjoyments: in this case the assailant is the most terrific opponent.

Those who were accused of robbery in these times were put to trial by a piece of barley bread, on which the mass had been performed; and if the accused could not swallow it, they were declared guilty. This mode of trial was improved by adding to the _bread_ a slice of _cheese_; and such was their credulity and dependance on heaven in these ridiculous trials, that they were very particular in this holy _bread_ and _cheese_, called the _corsned_. The bread was to be of unleavened barley, and the cheese made of ewes milk in the month of May[5].

The _bleeding of a corpse_ was another proof of guilt in superstitious ages; nor is the custom yet entirely abolished. If a person were murdered, it was believed, that at the touch or approach of the murderer, the blood gushed out from various parts of the body. By the side of the bier, if the smallest change was perceptible in the eyes, mouth, feet or hands of the corpse, the murderer was conjectured to be present, and many innocent persons doubtless must have suffered death from this idle chimera; for when a body is full of blood, warmed by a sudden external heat and symptoms of ensuing putrefaction, some of the blood vessels will burst, as they will all in time. This practice was once allowed in England, and is still looked on in some of the uncivilized parts of these kingdoms as a means of detecting the criminal. It forms a rich picture in the imagination of our old writers; and their histories and ballads are laboured into pathos by dwelling on the suppositious phenomenon.

All these absurd institutions, Robertson observes, cherished and inculcated, form the superstitions of the age believing the legendary histories of those saints who crowd and disgrace the Roman calendar. These fabulous miracles had been declared authentic by the bulls of the Popes, and the decrees of Councils—they were greedily swallowed by the populace; and whoever believed that the Supreme Being had interposed miraculously on those trivial occasions mentioned in legends, could not but expect his intervention in matters of greater importance when solemnly referred to his decision. Besides this ingenious remark, the fact is, that these customs were a substitute for written laws, which that barbarous period had not; and as it is impossible for any society to exist without _laws_, the ignorance of the people had recourse to these customs, which bad and absurd as they were, served to terminate controversies which might have given birth to more destructive practices. Ordeals are, in fact, the rude laws of a barbarous people, who have not obtained a written code, and not advanced enough in civilization, to embrace the refined investigations, the subtle distinctions, and elaborate inquiries, which are exacted by a Court of Law.

It may be presumed, that these ordeals owe their origin to that one of Moses, called the “Waters of Jealousy.” The Greeks also had ordeals, for we read in the Antigonus of Sophocles, that the soldiers offer to prove their innocence by handling red hot iron, and walking between fires.

One cannot but smile at the whimsical ordeals of the Siamese. Among other practices to discover the justice of a cause, civil or criminal, they are particularly attached to the use of certain consecrated purgative pills, which the contending parties are made to swallow. He who retains them longest, gains his cause! The practice of giving Indians a consecrated grain of rice to swallow, is known to discover the thief in any company, by the contortions and dismay evident on the countenance of the real thief.

In the middle ages they were acquainted with secrets to pass unhurt these secret trials: one is mentioned by Voltaire for undergoing the ordeal of boiling water; and this statement is confirmed by some of our late travellers in the East. The Mevleheh dervises can hold red hot iron between their teeth. Such artifices have been often publicly exhibited at Paris and London. On the ordeal of the Anglo-Saxons, Mr. Sharon Turner observes, that the hand was not to be immediately inspected, and was left to the chance of a good constitution to be so far healed during three days (the time they required to be bound up and sealed, before it was examined) as to discover those appearances when inspected, which were allowed to be satisfactory. There was also much preparatory training, suggested by the more experienced: besides, the accused had an opportunity of _going alone into the church_, and making _terms_ with the priest. The few spectators were always at a distance; and cold iron or any other inoffensive substance might be substituted, and the fire diminished at the moment. There can be no doubt they possessed these secrets and medicaments, which they always took care to have ready at hand, that they might pass through these trials in perfect security.

There is an anecdote of these times given by Camerarius, in his “Horæ Subscecivæ,” which may serve to show the readiness of this apparatus. A rivalship existed between the Austin Friars and the Jesuits. The Father-general of the Austin Friars was dining with the Jesuits; and on the table being removed, he entered into a formal discourse of the superiority of the monastic order, and charged the Jesuits, in unqualified terms, with assuming the title of “Fratres,” while they held not the three vows, which other monks were obliged to consider as sacred and binding. The general of the Austin Friars was very eloquent and very authoritative: and the superior of the Jesuits was very unlearned, but not quite half a fool. He was rather careless about entering the list of controversy with the Austin Friar, but arrested his triumph by asking him if he would see one of his Friars who pretended to be nothing more than a Jesuit, and one of the Austin Friar’s who religiously performed the above-mentioned three vows, show instantly which of them would be the readiest to obey his superiors? The Austin Friar consented. The Jesuit then turning to one of his brothers, the Holy Friar Mark, who was waiting on them, said, “Brother Mark, our companions are cold; I command you, in virtue of the holy obedience you have sworn to me, to bring here instantly out of the kitchen fire, and in your hands, some burning coals, that they may warm themselves over your hands.” Father Mark instantly obeys, and to the astonishment of the Austin Friars, brought in his hands a supply of red burning coals, and held them to whoever thought proper to warm himself; and at the command of his superior, returned them to the kitchen hearth. The general of the Austin Friars, with the rest of his brethren, stood amazed; he looked wistfully on one of his monks, as if he wished to command him to do the like; but the Austin Monk, who perfectly understood him, and saw this was not a time to hesitate, observed,—“Reverend Father, forbear, and do not command me to tempt God! I am ready to fetch you fire in a chafing dish, but not in my bare hands.” The triumph of the Jesuits was complete; and it is not necessary to add, that the miracle was noised about, and that the Austin Friars could never account for it, notwithstanding their strict performance of the three vows.

ASTROLOGY, &c.

“This is the excellent foppery of the world, that when we are sick in fortune (often the surfeit of our own behaviour) we make guilt of our disasters, the sun, the moon, and the stars; as if we were villains by necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers (traitors), by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an inforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in by a Divine thrusting on; an admirable evasion of whoremaster to lay his goatish disposition to the charge of a star! My father compounded with my mother under the Dragon’s tail; and my nativity was under _Ursa Major_; so that it follows, I am rough and lecherous.—Tut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled at my bastardizing.”—SHAKSPEARE.

It is a singular fact, that men the most eminent for their learning were those who indulged most in the favourite superstition of judicial Astrology; and as the ingenious Tenhove observes, whenever an idea germinates in a learned head, it shoots with additional luxuriance. At the present time, however, a belief in judicial Astrology can only exist in the people, who may be said to have no belief at all; for mere traditional sentiments can hardly be said to amount to a belief.

It is said that Dr. Fludd[6] was in possession of the MSS. of Simon Forman, the Astrologer. We have seen that the studies of Mathematics, Astronomy, and Medicine, were early united in several persons connected with the faculty of medicine. Real Astronomy gave birth to judicial Astrology; which offering an ample field to enthusiasm and imposture, was eagerly pursued by many who had no scientific purpose in view. It was connected with various juggling tricks and deceptions, affected an obscure jargon of language, and insinuated itself into every thing in which the hopes and fears of mankind were concerned. The professors of this pretended science were at first generally persons of mean education, in whom low cunning supplied the place of knowledge. Most of them engaged in the empirical practice of physic, and some, through the credulity of the times, even arrived at a degree of eminence in it; yet since the whole foundation of their art was folly and deceit, they nevertheless gained many proselytes and dupes, both among the well-informed and the ignorant.

When Charles the First was confined, Lilly, the famous Astrologer, was consulted for the hour that should favour his escape.

A story, which strongly proves how much Charles II. was bigoted to judicial astrology, and whose mind was certainly not unenlightened, is recorded in Burnet’s History of his own times. The most respectable characters of the age, Sir William Dugdale, Elias Ashmole, Dr. Grew, and others, were members of an astrological club[7]. Congreve’s character of Foresight, in Love for Love, was then no uncommon person, though the humour now is scarcely intelligible. Dryden cast the nativities of his sons; and, what is remarkable, his prediction relating to his son Charles, was accomplished. This incident is of so late a date, one might hope it would have been cleared up; but, if it be a fact, it must be allowed that it forms a rational exultation for its irrational adepts.