As the darkening times of the Roman empire advanced, even the stronger minds seem to have lost the clear energy which was requisite to throw off this delusion. Seneca appears to take the influence of the planets for granted; and even Tacitus[56] seems to hesitate. “For my own part,” says he, “I doubt; but certainly the majority of mankind cannot be weaned from the opinion, that, at the birth of each man, his future destiny is fixed; though some things may fall out differently from the predictions, by the ignorance of those who profess the art; and that thus the art is unjustly blamed, confirmed as it is by noted examples in all ages.” The occasion which gives rise to these reflections of the historian is the mention of Thrasyllus, the favorite astrologer of the Emperor Tiberius, whose skill is exemplified in the following narrative. Those who were brought to Tiberius on any important matter, were admitted to an interview in an apartment situated on a lofty cliff in the island of Capreæ. They reached this place by a narrow path, accompanied by a single freedman of great bodily strength; and on their return, if the emperor had conceived any doubts of their trustworthiness, a single blow buried the secret and its victim in the ocean below. After Thrasyllus had, in this retreat, stated the results of his art as they concerned the emperor, Tiberius asked him whether he had calculated how long he himself had to live. The astrologer examined the aspect of the stars, and while he did this, as the narrative states, showed hesitation, alarm, increasing terror, and at last declared that, “the present hour was for him critical, perhaps fatal.” Tiberius embraced him, and told him “he was right in supposing he had been in danger, but that he should escape it;” and made him thenceforth his confidential counsellor.
[56] Ann. vi. 22.
The belief in the power of astrological prediction which thus obtained dominion over the minds of men of literary cultivation and practical energy, naturally had a more complete sway among the speculative [221] but unstable minds of the later philosophical schools of Alexandria, Athens, and Rome. We have a treatise on astrology by Proclus, which will serve to exemplify the mystical principle in this form. It appears as a commentary on a work on the same subject called “Tetrabiblos,” ascribed to Ptolemy; though we may reasonably doubt whether the author of the “Megale Syntaxis” was also the writer of the astrological work. A few notices of the commentary of Proclus will suffice.[57] The science is defended by urging how powerful we know the physical effects of the heavenly bodies to be. “The sun regulates all things on earth;—the birth of animals, the growth of fruits, the flowing of waters, the change of health, according to the seasons: he produces heat, moisture, dryness, cold, according to his approach to our zenith. The moon, which is the nearest of all bodies to the earth, gives out much influence; and all things, animate and inanimate, sympathize with her: rivers increase and diminish according to her light; the advance of the sea, and its recess, are regulated by her rising and setting; and along with her, fruits and animals wax and wane, either wholly or in part.” It is easy to see that by pursuing this train of associations (some real and some imaginary) very vaguely and very enthusiastically, the connections which astrology supposes would receive a kind of countenance. Proclus then proceeds to state[58] the doctrines of the science. “The sun,” he says, “is productive of heat and dryness; this power is moderate in its nature, but is more perceived than that of the other luminaries, from his magnitude, and from the change of seasons. The nature of the moon is for the most part moist; for being the nearest to the earth, she receives the vapors which rise from moist bodies, and thus she causes bodies to soften and rot. But by the illumination she receives from the sun, she partakes in a moderate degree of heat. Saturn is cold and dry, being most distant both from the heating power of the sun, and the moist vapors of the earth. His cold, however, is most prevalent, his dryness is more moderate. Both he and the rest receive additional powers from the configurations which they make with respect to the sun and moon.” In the same manner it is remarked that Mars is dry and caustic, from his fiery nature, which, indeed, his color shows. Jupiter is well compounded of warm and moist, as is Venus. Mercury is variable in his character. From these notions were derived others concerning the beneficial or hurtful effect of these stars. Heat and [222] moisture are generative and creative elements; hence the ancients, says Proclus, deemed Jupiter, and Venus, and the Moon to have a good power; Saturn and Mercury, on the other hand, had an evil nature.
[57] I. 2.
[58] I. 4.
Other distinctions of the character of the stars are enumerated, equally visionary, and suggested by the most fanciful connections. Some are masculine, and some feminine: the Moon and Venus are of the latter kind. This appears to be merely a mythological or etymological association. Some are diurnal, some nocturnal: the Moon and Venus are of the latter kind, the Sun and Jupiter of the former; Saturn and Mars are both.
The fixed stars, also, and especially those of the zodiac, had especial influences and subjects assigned to them. In particular, each sign was supposed to preside over a particular part of the body; thus Aries had the head assigned to it, Taurus the neck, and so on.
The most important part of the sky in the astrologer’s consideration, was that sign of the zodiac which rose at the moment of the child’s birth; this was, properly speaking, the horoscope, the ascendant, or the first house; the whole circuit of the heavens being divided into twelve houses, in which life and death, marriage and children, riches and honors, friends and enemies, were distributed.
We need not attempt to trace the progress of this science. It prevailed extensively among the Arabians, as we might expect from the character of that nation. Albumasar, of Balkh in Khorasan, who flourished in the ninth century, who was one of their greatest astronomers, was also a great astrologer; and his work on the latter subject, “De Magnis Conjunctionibus, Annorum Revolutionibus ac eorum Perfectionibus,” was long celebrated in Europe. Aboazen Haly (the writer of a treatise “De Judiciis Astrorum”), who lived in Spain in the thirteenth century, was one of the classical authors on this subject.
It will easily be supposed that when this apotelesmatic or judicial astrology obtained firm possession of men’s minds, it would be pursued into innumerable subtle distinctions and extravagant conceits; and the more so, as experience could offer little or no check to such exercises of fancy and subtlety. For the correction of rules of astrological divination by comparison with known events, though pretended to by many professors of the art, was far too vague and fallible a guidance to be of any real advantage. Even in what has been called Natural Astrology, the dependence of the weather on the heavenly bodies, it is easy to see what a vast accumulation of well-observed facts is requisite to establish [223] any true rule; and it is well known how long, in spite of facts, false and groundless rules (as the dependence of the weather on the moon) may keep their hold on men’s minds. When the facts are such loose and many-sided things as human characters, passions, and happiness, it was hardly to be expected that even the most powerful minds should be able to find a footing sufficiently firm, to enable them to resist the impression of a theory constructed of sweeping and bold assertions, and filled out into a complete system of details. Accordingly, the connection of the stars with human persons and actions was, for a long period, undisputed. The vague, obscure, and heterogeneous character of such a connection, and its unfitness for any really scientific reasoning, could, of course, never be got rid of; and the bewildering feeling of earnestness and solemnity, with which the connection of the heavens with man was contemplated, never died away. In other respects, however, the astrologers fell into a servile commentatorial spirit; and employed themselves in annotating and illustrating the works of their predecessors to a considerable extent, before the revival of true science.