Chapter 4
M. Dacier observes, that, in Cicero’s time, its credit was but low; so
much so, that none but the most credulous part of the populace had
recourse to it. Instead of this another kind of _sortes_ was introduced
into Greece and Italy; which was, to take some celebrated poet, as for
instance Homer, Euripides, Virgil, &c., to open the book, and whatever
first presented itself to the eye on opening, it thus was taken for the
ordinance of heaven. This made what was called the _Sortes Homericæ_ and
_Sortes Virgilianæ_, which succeeded the use of the _Sortes Prænestinæ_.
This superstition passed hence into Christianity; and the Christians
took their sortes out of the Old and New Testament. The first passage
that presented itself on opening a book of Scripture, was esteemed the
answer of God himself. If the first passage that was opened did not
happen to be any thing to the purpose for which the _sortes_ were
consulted, another book was opened, and so on until something was met
with that might, one way or the other, be taken for an answer. This was
called _Sortes Sanctorum_.
St. Augustine does not disapprove of this method of learning futurity,
provided it be not used for worldly purposes; and, in fact, he owns
having practised it himself.
Gregory of Tours adds, that the custom was to lay the Bible on the
altar, and to pray the Lord that he would discover by it what was to
come to pass. Indeed, instances of the use of the _Sanctum Sanctorum_
are very frequent in history. Mr. Fleury tells us that Heraclius, in his
war against Cossoes, to learn where he should take up his winter
quarters, purified his army for three days, and then opened the Gospels,
and discovered thereby that the place appointed for them was in Albania.
Gilbert of Nogent informs us, that, in his time, viz. about the
beginning of the twelfth century, the custom was, at the consecration of
bishops, to consult the _Sortes Sanctorum_, to learn the success, fate,
and other particulars of their episcopate. This practice is founded on a
supposition that God presides over the _Sortes_, and this is
strengthened by Prov. chap. xvi. verse 33, where it is said, “_The lot
is cast into the lap, but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord_.”
In fact, many divines have held, and even now many of them still hold,
that the lot is conducted in a particular manner by Providence; that it
is an extraordinary manner, in which God declares his will by a kind of
immediate revelation. The _Sortes Sanctorum_, however, were condemned by
the council of Agda, in 506, at the time they were beginning to take
footing in France.
This practice crept in among the Christians, of casually opening the
sacred books for directions in important circumstances; to know the
consequences of events; and what they had to fear from their rulers.
This consultation of the divine will from the Scriptures, was of two
kinds:—The first consisted, as I have said, in casually opening those
writings, but not before the guidance of heaven had been implored with
prayer, fasting, and other acts of religion. The second was much more
simple: the first words of the Scripture, which were singing or reading,
at the very instant when the person, who came to know the disposition of
heaven, entered the church, being considered either an advice, or a
prognostic.
St. Austin, in his epistle to Januarius, justly condemns the practice;
but St. Gregory of Tours, by the following instance, which he relates as
having happened to himself, shows that he entertained a better opinion
of it:—“Leudastus, Earl of Tours,” says he, “who was for ruining me with
Queen Fredegonde, coming to Tours, big with evil designs against me, I
withdrew to my oratory under a deep concern, where I took the Psalms, to
try if, at opening them, I should light upon some consoling verse. My
heart revived within me, when I cast my eyes on this of the 77th Psalm,
‘He caused them to go on with confidence, whilst the sea swallowed up
their enemies.’ Accordingly, the Count spoke not a word to my prejudice;
and leaving Tours that very day, the boat in which he was, sunk in a
storm, but his skill in swimming saved him.”
The following is also from the same author. “Chranmes having revolted
against Clotaire, his brother, and being at Dijon, the ecclesiastics of
the place, in order to foreknow the success of this procedure, consulted
the sacred books; but instead of the Psalms, they made use of St. Paul’s
Epistles, and the Prophet Isaiah. Opening the latter they read these
words: ‘I will pluck up the fence of my vineyard, and it shall be
destroyed, because instead of good, it has brought forth bad grapes.’
The Epistles agreeing with the prophecy, it was concluded to be a sure
presage of the tragical end of Cranmes.”
St. Consortia, in her youth, was passionately courted by a young man of
a very powerful family, though she had formed a design of taking the
veil. Knowing that a refusal would expose her parents to many
inconveniences, and perhaps to danger, she desired a week’s time to
determine her choice. At the expiration of this time, which she had
employed in devout exercises, her lover, accompanied by the most
distinguished matrons of the city, came to know her answer. “I can
neither accept of you nor refuse you,” said she, “every thing is in the
hand of God: but if you will agree to it, let us go to the church, and
have a mass said; afterwards, let us lay the holy gospel on the altar,
and say a joint prayer; then we will open the book, to be certainly
informed of the divine will in this affair.” This proposal could not
with propriety be refused; and the first verse which met the eyes of
both, was the following: “Whosoever loveth father or mother better than
me, is not worthy of me.” Upon this, Consortia said, “You see God claims
me as his own;” and the lover acquiesced.
But about the eighth century, this practice began to lose ground, as
soon or late, reason and authority will get the better of that which is
founded on neither. It was proscribed by several popes and councils, and
in terms which rank it among Pagan superstitions. However, some traces
of this custom are found for several ages after, both in the Greek and
the Latin church. Upon the consecration of a bishop, after laying the
bible upon his head, a ceremony still subsisted, that the first verse
which offered itself, was accounted an omen of his future behaviour, and
of the good or evil which was reserved for him in the course of his
episcopacy. Thus, a Bishop of Rochester, at his consecration by
Lanfranc, Archbishop of Canterbury, had a very happy presage in these
words: “Bring hither the best robe, and put it on him.” But the answer
of the Scripture, at the consecration of St. Lietbert, Bishop of
Cambray, was still more grateful: “This is my beloved son, in whom I am
well pleased.” The death of Albert, Bishop of Liege, is said to have
been intimated to him by these words, which the Archbishop, who
consecrated him, found at the opening of the New Testament, “And the
king sent an executioner, and commanded his head to be brought; and he
went and beheaded him in the prison.” Upon this the primate tenderly
embracing the new bishop, said to him with tears, “My son, having given
yourself up to the service of God, carry yourself righteously and
devoutly, and prepare yourself for the trial of martyrdom.” The Bishop
was afterwards murdered by the treacherous connivance of the Emperor
Henry VI.
These prognostics were alleged upon the most important occasions. De
Garlande, Bishop of Orleans, became so odious to his clergy, that they
sent a complaint against him to Pope Alexander III. concluding in this
manner: “Let your apostolical hands put on strength to _strip naked_ the
iniquity of this man; that the curse prognosticated on the day of his
consecration, may overtake him; for the gospels being opened, _according
to custom_, the first words were, _And the young man, leaving his linen
cloth, fled from them naked_.”
William of Malmsbury relates, that Hugh de Montaigne, Bishop of Auxerre,
was obliged to go to Rome, to answer different charges brought against
the purity of his morals, by some of his chapter; but they who held with
the bishop, as an irrefragable proof of his spotless chastity, insisted
that the prognostic on the day of his consecration was, “Hail, Mary,
full of grace.”
I proceed to the second manner of this consultation, which was to go
into a church with the intention of receiving, as a declaration of the
will of Heaven, any words of the Scripture which might chance to be sung
or read, at the moment of the person’s entrance. Thus, it is said, St.
Anthony, to put an end to his irresolution about retirement, went to a
church, where immediately hearing the deacon pronounce these words, “Go
sell all thou hast, and give it to the poor, then come and follow me;”
he applied them to himself, as a direct injunction from God, and
withdrew to that solitude for which he is so celebrated among the
Catholics.
The following passage from Gregory of Tours, is too remarkable to be
omitted. He relates that Clovis, the first Christian king of France,
marching against Alaric, King of the Visgoths, and being near the city
of Tours, where the body of St. Martin was deposited, he sent some of
his nobles, with presents to be offered at the saint’s tomb, to see if
they could not bring him a promising augury, while he himself uttered
this prayer “Lord, if thou wouldest have me punish this impious people,
the savage enemy of thy holy name, give me some signal token, by which I
may be assured that such is thy will.” Accordingly, his messengers had
no sooner set foot within the cathedral, than they heard the priest
chaunt forth this verse of the eighteenth Psalm, “Thou hast girded me
with strength for war, thou hast subdued under me those that rose up
against me.” Transported at these words, after laying the presents at
the tomb of the saint, they hastened to the King with this favourable
prognostic; Clovis joyfully accepted it, and engaging Alaric, gained a
complete victory.
Here also may be subjoined a passage in the history of St. Louis IX. In
the first emotions of his clemency, he had granted a pardon to a
criminal under sentence of death; but some minutes after, happening to
alight upon this verse of the Psalms, “Blessed is he that doth
righteousness at all times;” he recalled his pardon, saying, “The King
who has power to punish a crime, and does not do it, is, in the sight of
God, no less guilty than if he had committed it himself.”
The _Sortes Sanctorum_ were fulminated against by various councils. The
council of Varres “forbade all ecclesiastics, under pain of
excommunication, to perform that kind of divination, or to pry into
futurity, by looking into any book, or writing, whatsoever.” The council
of Ayde, in 506, expressed itself to the same effect; as did those of
Orleans, in 511; and Auxerre, in 595. It appears, however, to have
continued very common, at least in England, so late as the twelfth
century: the council of Aenham, which met there in 1110, condemned
jointly, sorcerers, witches, diviners, such as occasioned death by
magical operations, and who practised fortune-telling by the holy
book-lots.
Peter de Blois, who wrote at the close of the twelfth century, places
among the sorcerers, those who, under the veil of religion, promised, by
certain superstitious practices, such as the lots of the Apostles and
Prophets, to discover hidden and future events: yet this same Peter de
Blois, one of the most learned and pious men of his age, in a letter to
Reginald, whose election to the see of Bath had a long time been
violently opposed, tells him, that he hopes he has overcome all
difficulties; and further, that he believes he is, or soon will be,
established in his diocese. “This belief,” says he, “I ground on a dream
I lately had two nights successively, of being at your consecration; and
also, that being desirous of knowing its certain meaning, by lots of
human curiosity, and the Psalter, the first which occurred to me were,
‘Moses and Aaron among his priests.’”
Thus, though the ancient fathers, and, since them, others have in
general agreed, that the _Sortes Sanctorum_ cannot be cleared of
superstition, though they assert that it was tempting God, to expect
that he would inform us of futurity, and reveal to us the secrets of his
will, whenever the sacred book is opened for such a purpose, though it
contain nothing which looks like a promise of that kind from God; though
so far from being warranted by any ecclesiastical law, it has been
condemned by several, and, at last, in more enlightened times, has been
altogether abolished, yet they do not deny, that there have been
occasions, when discreet and pious persons have opened the sacred book,
not to discover futurity, but to meet with some passage to support them
in times of distress and persecution.
SIBYLS.
This word is supposed to be formed of the two Greek words σιου for Θεου
_Dei_, and βουλη counsel.
The Sibyllæ of antiquity were virgin-prophetesses, or maids supposed to
be divinely inspired; who, in the height of their enthusiasm, gave
oracles, and foretold things to come.
Authors are at variance with respect to the number of sibyls. Capella
reckons but two; _viz._ Erophyte of Troy, called Sibylla Phrygia; and
Sinuachia of Erythræa. Solinus mentions three, _viz._ Cumæa, Delphica,
and Erythræa. Ælian makes their number four, and Varro increases it to
ten, denominating them from the places of their birth; the Persian,
Delphic, Cumæan, Erythræan, Samian, Cuman, Hellespontic or Troiad,
Phrygian, and Tiburtine. Of these the most celebrated are, the
Erythræan, Delphic, and Cumæan Sibyls.
The sibylline oracles were held in great veneration by the more
credulous among the ancients; but they were much suspected by the better
informed. The books wherein they were written, were kept by the Romans
with infinite care; and nothing of moment was undertaken without
consulting them. Tarquin first committed them to the custody of two
patrician priests for that purpose.
TALISMANS.
Magical figures, engraven or cut under superstitious observances of the
characterisms and configurations of the heavens, are called talismans;
to which some astrologers, hermetical philosophers, and other adepts,
attribute wonderful virtues, particularly that of calling down celestial
influences.
The author of a book, intituled _Talismans Justifies_, pronounces a
talisman is the seal, figure, character, or image of a heavenly sign,
constellation, or planet, engraven on a sympathetic stone, or on a metal
corresponding to the star, &c. in order to receive its influences.
The talismans of the Samothracians, so famous of old, were pieces of
iron formed into certain images, and set in rings, &c. They were held as
preservatives against all kinds of evils. There were other talismans
taken from vegetables, and others from minerals.
Three kinds of _Talismans_ were usually distinguished, _viz._
_Astronomical_, which are known by the signs or constellations of the
heavens engraven upon them, with other figures, and some unintelligible
characters. _Magical_, which bear very extraordinary figures, with
superstitious words and names of angels unheard of. And _mixt_, which
consist of signs and barbarous words; but have no superstitious ones, or
names of angels.
It is maintained by some rabbins, that the brazen serpent raised by
Moses in the Wilderness, for the destruction of the serpents that
annoyed the Israelites, was properly a _Talisman_.
All the miraculous things wrought by Apollonius Tyanæus are attributed
to the virtue and influence of _Talismans_; and that wizard, as he is
called, is even said to have been the inventor of them.
Some authors take several Runic medals,—medals, at least, whose
inscriptions are in the Runic characters,—for talismans, it being
notorious, that the northern nations, in their heathen state, were much
devoted to them. M. Keder, however, has shewn, that the medals here
spoken of are quite other things than talismans.
PHILTERS, CHARMS, &c.
A drug, or other preparation, used as a pretended charm to excite love.
These are distinguished into true and spurious: the spurious are spells
or charms supposed to have an effect beyond the ordinary law of nature,
by some inherent magic virtue; such are those said to be possessed
formerly by old women, witches, &c.—The true Philters were supposed to
operate by some natural and magnetical power. There are many
enthusiastic and equally credulous authors, who have encouraged the
belief in the reality of these Philters; and adduce matter in fact in
confirmation of their opinions, as in all doubtful cases. Among these
may be quoted Van Helmont, who says, that by holding a certain herb in
his hand, and afterwards taking a little dog by the foot with the same
hand, the animal followed him wherever he went, and quite deserted his
former master. He also adds, that Philters only require a confirmation
of Mumia[51]; and on this principle he accounts for the phenomena of
love transplanted by the touch of an herb; for, says he, the heat
communicated to the herb, not coming alone, but animated by the
emanations of the natural spirits, determines the herb towards the man,
and identifies it to him. Having then received this ferment, it attracts
the spirit of the other object magnetically, and gives it an amorous
motion. But all this is mere absurdity, and has fallen to the ground
with the other irrational hypothesis from the same source.
HELL,
A place of punishment, where, we are told in Scripture, the wicked are
to receive the reward of their evil deeds, after this life. In this
sense, hell is the antithesis of HEAVEN.
Among the ancients hell was called by various names, Ταρταρος, Ταρταρᾶ,
_Tartarus_, _Tartara_; Ἁδης, _Hades_, _Infernus_, _Inferna_, _Inferi_,
&c.—The Jews, wanting a proper name for it, called it _Gehenna_, or
Gehinnon, from a valley near Jerusalem, wherein was Tophet, or place
where a fire was perpetually kept.
Divines reduce the torments of hell to two kinds, _pœna damni_, the loss
and privation of the beatific vision; and _pœna sensus_, the horrors of
darkness, with the continual pains of fire inextinguishable.
Most nations and religions have a notion of a hell. The hell of the
poets is terrible enough: witness the punishment of Tityus, Prometheus,
the Danæids, Lapithæ, Phlegyas, &c. described by Ovid, in his
_Metamorphosis_. Virgil, after a survey of Hell, _Æneid_, lib. vi.
declares, that if he had a hundred mouths and tongues, they would not
suffice to recount all the plagues of the tortured. The New Testament
represents hell as _a lake of fire and brimstone_; and _a worm which
dies not_, &c. Rev. xx. 10, 14, &c. Mark ix. 43, &c. Luke xvi. 23, &c.
The Caffres are said to admit thirteen hells, and twenty-seven
paradises; where every person finds a place suited to the degree of good
or evil he has done.
There are two great points of controversy among writers, touching hell:
the first, whether there be any local hell, any proper and specific
place of torment by fire? the second, whether the torments of hell are
to be eternal?
