Tibullus, in the second elegy of his first book, gives the following account of the powers ascribed to a magician:—
"She plucks each star out of his throne,
And turneth back the raging waves;
With charms she makes the earth to cone,
And raiseth souls out of their graves;
She burns men's bones as with a fire,
And pulleth down the lights of Heaven,
And makes it snow at her desire
E'en in the midst of summer season."
These views continued to hold undisturbed dominion over the people during a long succession of centuries. As the twilight of the dark ages began to settle upon Christendom, superstition, that night-blooming plant, extended itself rapidly, and in all directions, over the surface of the world. While every thing else drooped and withered, it struck deeper its roots, spread wider its branches, and brought forth more abundantly its fruit. The unnumbered fables of Greek and Roman mythology, the arts of augury and divination, the visions of oriental romance, the fanciful and attenuated theories of the later philosophy, the abstract and spiritual doctrines of Platonism, and all the grosser and wilder conceptions of the northern conquerors of the Roman Empire, became mingled together in the faith of the inhabitants of the European kingdoms. From this multifarious combination, the infinitely diversified popular superstitions of the modern nations have sprung.
We first begin to trace the clear outlines of the doctrine of witchcraft not far from the commencement of the Christian era. It presupposes the belief of the Devil. I shall not enter upon the question, whether the Scriptures, properly interpreted, require the belief of the existence of such a being. Directing our attention solely to profane sources of information, we discover the heathen origin of the belief of the existence of the Devil in the ancient systems of oriental philosophy. Early observers of nature in the East were led to the conclusion, that the world was a divided empire, ruled by the alternate or simultaneous energy of two great antagonist principles or beings, one perfectly good, and the other perfectly bad. It was for a long time, and perhaps is at this day, a prevalent faith among Christians, that the Bible teaches a similar doctrine; that it presents, to our adoration and obedience, a being of infinite perfections in the Deity; and to our abhorrence and our fears, a being infinitely wicked, and of great power, in the Devil.
It is obvious, that, when the entire enginery of supernaturalism was organized in adaptation to the idea of the Devil, and demonology became synonymous with diabolism, the credulity and superstition of mankind would give a wide extension to that form of belief. It soon occupied a large space in the theories of religion and the fancies of the people, and got to be a leading element in the life of society. It made its impress on the forms of speech, and many of the phrases to which it gave rise still remain in familiar use. It figured in the rituals of religion, in the paraphernalia of public shows, and in fireside tales. It afforded leading characters to the drama in the miracle plays and the moral plays, as they were called, at successive periods. It offered a ready weapon to satire, and also to defamation. Gerbert, a native of France, who was elevated to the pontificate about the close of the tenth century, under the name of Sylvester II., is eulogized by Mosheim as the first great restorer of science and literature. He was a person of an extensive and sublime genius, of wonderful attainments in learning, particularly mathematics, geometry, and arithmetic. He broke the profound sleep of the dark ages, and awakened the torpid intellect of the European nations. His efforts in this direction roused the apprehensions and resentment of the monks; and they circulated, after Gerbert's death, and made the ignorant masses believe the story, that he had obtained his rapid promotion in the Church by the practice of the black art, which he disguised under the show of learning; that he secured the Archbishopric of Ravenna by bribery and corruption; and that, finally, he made a bargain with Satan, promising him his soul after death, on condition that he (Satan) should put forth his great influence over the cardinals in such a manner as would secure his election to the throne of St. Peter. The arrangement was carried into successful operation. Sylvester, the monks averred, consulted the Devil through the medium of a brazen head during his whole reign, and enjoyed his faithful friendship and unwavering patronage. But, when His Holiness came to die, he endeavored to defraud Satan of his rightful claim to his soul, by repenting, and acknowledging his sin. This illustrates the way in which the popular idea of the Devil was used to awaken ridicule and gratify malignity.
The natural and ultimate effect of the diffusion of Christianity was to overthrow, or rather to revolutionize, the whole system of incantation and sorcery.
In heathen countries, as in the East at present and with those among us who profess to hold communications with spirits, no reproach or sentiment of disapprobation, as has already been observed, was necessarily connected with the arts of divination; for the supernatural beings with whom intercourse was alleged to be had were not, with a few exceptions, regarded as evil beings. The persons who were thought to be skilful in their use were, on the contrary, held in great esteem, and looked upon with reverence. Magicians and philosophers were convertible and synonymous terms. Learned and scientific men were induced to encourage, and turn to their own advantage, the popular credulity that ascribed their extraordinary skill to their connection with spiritual and divine beings. At length, however, they found themselves placed in a very uncomfortable predicament by the prevalence of the new theology. It was exceedingly difficult to dispel the delusion, and correct the error they had previously found it for their interest to perpetuate in the minds of the community. They could not convince them that their knowledge was acquired from natural sources, or their operations conducted solely by the aid of natural causes and laws. The people would not surrender the belief, that the results of scientific experiments, and the accuracy of predictions of physical phenomena, were secured by the assistance of supernatural beings.
As the doctrines of the gospel gradually undermined the popular belief in other spiritual beings inferior to the Deity, and were at the same time supposed to teach the existence and extensively diffused energy of an almost infinite and omnipotent agent of evil, it was exceedingly natural, nay, it necessarily followed, that the credulity and superstition which had led to the supposition of an alliance between philosophers and spiritual beings should settle down into a full conviction that the Devil was the being with whom they were thus confederated. The consequence was that they were charged with witchcraft, and many fell victims to the general prejudice and abhorrence occasioned by the imputation. The influence of this state of things was soon seen: it was one of the most effectual causes of the rapid diffusion of knowledge in modern times. Philosophers and men of science became as anxious to explain and publish their discoveries as they had been in former ages to conceal and cover them with mystery. The following instances will be sufficient to illustrate the correctness of these views.
In the thirteenth century, Roger Bacon was charged with witchcraft on account of his discoveries in optics, chemistry, and astronomy; and, although he did what he could to circulate and explain his own acquirements, he could not escape a papal denunciation, and two long and painful imprisonments. In 1305, Arnold de Villa Nova, a learned physician and philosopher, was burned at Padua, by order of inquisitors, on the charge of witchcraft. He was eighty years of age. Ten years afterwards, Peter Apon, also of Padua, who had made extraordinary progress in knowledge, was accused of the same crime, and condemned to death, but expired previous to the time appointed for his execution.
I will now present a brief sketch of the most noticeable facts relating to the subject in Europe and Great Britain previous to the close of the seventeenth century. Some writers have computed that thirty thousand persons were executed for this supposed crime, within one hundred and fifty years. It will of course be in my power to mention only a few instances.