Witch, Warlock, and Magician Part 29

'Hail! dangerous science, falsely called sublime, Which treads upon the very brink of crime.

h.e.l.l's mimic, Satan's mountebank of state, Deals with more devils than Heaven did e'er create.

The infernal juggling-box, by Heaven designed, To put the grand parade upon mankind.

The devil's first game which he in Eden played, When he harangued to Eve in masquerade.'

Dividing his treatise into two parts, our author, in the introduction to Part I., discusses the meaning of the princ.i.p.al terms in magical lore; who, and what kind of people, the magicians were; and the meaning originally given to the words 'magic' and 'magician.' As a matter of course, he strays back to the old Chaldean days, when a magician, he says, was simply a mathematician, a man of science, who, stored with knowledge and learning, was a kind of walking dictionary to other people, instructing the rest of mankind on subjects of which they were ignorant; a wise man, in fact, who interpreted omens, ill signs, tokens, and dreams; understood the signs of the times, the face of the heavens, and the influences of the superior luminaries there.

When all this wisdom became more common, and the magi had communicated much of their knowledge to the people at large, their successors, still aspiring to a position above, and apart from, the rest of the world, were compelled to push their studies further, to inquire into nature, to view the aspect of the heavens, to calculate the motions of the stars, and more particularly to dwell upon their influences in human affairs--thus creating the science of astrology. But these men neither had, nor pretended to have, any compact or correspondence with the devil or with any of his works. They were men of thought, or, if you please, men of deeper thinking than the ordinary sort; they studied the sciences, inquired into the works of nature and providence, studied the meaning and end of things, the causes and events, and consequently were able to see further into the ordinary course and causes both of things about them, and things above them, than other men.

Such were the world's gray forefathers, the magicians of the elder time, in whom was found 'an excellent spirit of wisdom.' There were others--not less learned--whose studies took a different direction; who inquired into the structure and organization of the human body; who investigated the origin, the progress, and the causes of diseases and distempers, both in men and women; who sought out the physical or medicinal virtues of drugs and plants; and as by these means they made daily discoveries in nature, of which the world, until then, was ignorant, and by which they performed astonis.h.i.+ng cures, they naturally gained the esteem and reverence of the people.

Sir Walter Raleigh contends that only the word 'magic,' and not the magical art, is derived from Simon Magus. He adds that Simon's name was not Magus, a magician, but Gors, a person familiar with evil spirits; and that he usurped the t.i.tle of Simon the Magician simply because it was then a good and honourable t.i.tle. Defoe avails himself of Raleigh's authority to sustain his own opinion, that there is a manifest difference between _magic_, which is wisdom and supernatural knowledge, and the witchcraft and conjuring which we now understand by the word.

In his second chapter Defoe cla.s.sifies the magic of the ancients under three heads: i. _Natural_, which included the knowledge of the stars, of the motions of the planetary bodies, and their revolutions and influences; that is to say, the study of nature, of philosophy, and astronomy; ii. _Artificial_ or _Rational_, in which was included the knowledge of all judicial astrology, the casting or calculating nativities, and the cure of diseases--(1) by particular charms and figures placed in this or that position; (2) by herbs gathered at this or that particular crisis of time; (3) by saying such and such words over the patient; (4) by such and such gestures; (5) by striking the flesh in such and such a manner, and innumerable such-like pieces of mimicry, working not upon the disease itself, but upon the imagination of the patient, and so affecting the cure by the power of nature, though that nature were set in operation by the weakest and simplest methods imaginable; and, iii. _Diabolical_, which was wrought by and with the concurrence of the devil, carried on by a correspondence with evil spirits--with their help, presence, and personal a.s.sistance--and practised chiefly by their priests. Defoe argues that the ancients at first were acquainted only with the purer form of magic, and that, therefore, sorcery and witchcraft were of much later development. The cause and motive of this development he traces in his third chapter ('Of the Reason and Occasion which brought the ancient honest Magi, whose original study was philosophy, astronomy, and the works of nature, to turn sorcerers and wizards, and deal with the Devil, and how their Conversation began'). Egyptologists will find Defoe's comments upon Egyptian magic refres.h.i.+ngly simple and unhistorical, and his identifications of the Pyramids with magical practices is wildly vague and hypothetical. Of the magic which was really taught and practised among the ancient people of Egypt, Defoe, of course, knows nothing. He tells us, however, that the Jews learned it from them. He goes on to speculate as to the time when that close intercourse began between the devil and his servants on earth which is the foundation of the later or diabolical magic, and concludes that his first visible appearance on this mundane stage was as the enemy of Job.

Thence he is led to inquire, in his fourth chapter, what shapes the devil a.s.sumed on his first appearances to the magicians and others, in the dawn of the world's history, and whether he is or has been allowed to a.s.sume a human shape or no. And he suggests that his earliest acquaintance with mankind was made through dreams, and that by this method he contrived to infuse into men's minds an infinite variety of corrupt imaginations, wicked desires, and abhorrent conclusions and resolutions, with some ridiculous, foolish, and absurd things at the same time.

Defoe then proceeds to tell an Oriental story, which, doubtlessly, is his own invention:

Ali Albrahazen, a Persian wizard, had, it is said, this kind of intercourse with the devil. He was a Sabean by birth, and had obtained a wonderful reputation for his witchcraft, so that he was sent for by the King of Persia upon extraordinary occasions, such as the interpretation of a dream, or of an apparition, like that of Belshazzar's handwriting, or of some meteor or eclipse, and he never failed to give the King satisfaction. For whether his utterances were true or false, he couched them always in such ambiguous terms that something of what he predicted might certainly be deduced from his words, and so seem to import that he had effectually revealed it, whether he had really done so or not.

This Ali, wandering alone in the desert, and musing much upon the appearance of a fiery meteor, which, to the great terror of the country, had flamed in the heavens every night for nearly a month, sought to apprehend its significance, and what it should portend to the world; but, failing to do so, he sat down, weary and disheartened, in the shade of a spreading palm. Breathing to himself a strong desire that some spirit from the other world would generously a.s.sist him to arrive at the true meaning of a phenomenon so remarkable, he fell asleep. And, lo! in his sleep he dreamed a dream, and the dream was this: that a tall man came to him, a tall man of sage and venerable aspect, with a pleasing smile upon his countenance; and, addressing him by his name, told him that he was prepared to answer his questions, and to explain to him the signification of the great and terrible fire in the air which was terrifying all Arabia and Persia.

His explanation proved to be of an astronomical character. These fiery appearances, he said, were collections of vapour exhaled by the influence of the sun from earth or sea. As to their importance to human affairs, it was simply this: that sometimes by their propinquity to the earth, and their power of attraction, or by their dissipation of aqueous vapours, they occasioned great droughts and insupportable heats; while, at other times, they distilled heavy and unusual rains, by condensing, in an extraordinary manner, the vapours they had absorbed. And he added: 'Go thou and warn thy nation that this fiery meteor portends an excessive drought and famine; for know that by the strong exhalation of the vapours of the earth, occasioned by the meteor's unusual nearness to it, the necessary rains will be withheld, and to a long drought, as a matter of course, famine and scarcity of corn succeed. Thus, by judging according to the rules of natural causes, thou shalt predict what shall certainly come to pa.s.s, and shalt obtain the reputation thou so ardently desirest of being a wise man and a great magician.'

'This prediction,' said Ali, 'was all very well as regarded Arabia; but would it apply also to Persia?' 'No,' replied the devil; for Ali's interlocutor was no less distinguished a personage--fiery meteors from the same causes sometimes produced contrary events; and he might repair to the Persian Court, and predict the advent of excessive rains and floods, which would greatly injure the fruits of the earth, and occasion want and scarcity. 'Thus, if either of these succeed, as it is most probable, thou shalt a.s.suredly be received as a sage magician in one country, if not in the other; also, to both of them thou mayest suggest, as a probability only, that the consequence may be a plague or infection among the people, which is ordinarily the effect as well of excessive wet as of excessive heat. If this happens, thou shalt gain the reputation thou desirest; and if not, seeing thou didst not positively foretell it, thou shalt not incur the ignominy of a false prediction.'

Ali was very grateful for the devil's a.s.sistance, and failed not to ask how, at need, he might again secure it. He was told to come again to the palm-tree, and to go around it fifteen times, calling him thrice by his name each time: at the end of the fifteenth circ.u.mambulation he would find himself overtaken by drowsiness; whereupon he should lie down with his face to the south, and he would receive a visit from him in vision. The devil further told him the magic name by which he was to summon him.

The magician's predictions were duly made and duly fulfilled.

Thenceforward he maintained a constant communication with the devil, who, strange to say, seems not to have exacted anything from him in return for his valuable, but hazardous, a.s.sistance.

Defoe's fifth chapter contains a further account of the devil's conduct in imitating divine inspirations; describes the difference between the genuine and the false; and dwells upon signs and wonders, fict.i.tious as well as real. In chapter the sixth our author treats of the first practices of magic and witchcraft as a diabolical art, and explains how it was handed on to the Egyptians and Phnicians, by whom it was openly encouraged. He offers some amusing remarks on the methods adopted by magicians for summoning the devil, who seems to be at once their servant and master. In parts of India they go up, he says, to the summit of some particular mountain, where they call him with a little kettledrum, just as the good old wives in England hive their bees, except that they beat it on the wrong side. Then they p.r.o.nounce certain words which they call 'charms,' and the devil appears without fail.

It is not easy to discover in history what words were used for charms in Egypt and Arabia for so many ages. It is certain they differed in different countries; and it is certain they differed as the magicians acted together or individually. Nor are we less at a loss to understand what the devil could mean by suffering such words, or any words at all, to charm, summon, alarm, or arouse him. The Greeks have left us, he says, a word which was used by the magicians of antiquity pretty frequently--that famous trine or triangular word, Abracadabra:

A B R A C A D A B R A A B R A C A D A B R A B R A C A D A B A B R A C A D A A B R A C A D A B R A C A A B R A C A B R A A B R A B A

'There is abundance of learned puzzle among the ancients to find out the signification of this word: the subtle position of the letters gave a kind of reverence to them, because they read it as it were every way, upwards and downwards, backwards and forwards, and many will have it still _that the devil put them together_: nay, they begin at last to think it was old Legion's surname, and whenever he was called by that name, he used to come very readily; for which reason the old women in their chimney-corners would be horribly afraid of saying it often over together, for if they should say it a certain number of times, they had a notion it would certainly raise the devil.

'They say, on the contrary, that it was invented by one Basilides, a learned Greek; that it contained the great and awful name of the Divinity; and that it was used for many years for the opposing the spells and charms of the Pagans; that is, the diabolical spells and charms of the pagan magicians.'

In the seventh chapter we read of the practice and progress of magic, as it is now explained to be a diabolical art; how it spread itself in the world, and by what degrees it grew up to the height which it has since attained.

The introduction to the second part of Defoe's work is devoted to an exposition of the Black Art 'as it really is,' and sets forth 'why there are several differing practices of it in the several parts of the world, and what those practices are; as, also, what is contained in it in general.' He defines it as 'a new general term for all the branches of that correspondence which mankind has maintained, or does, or can carry on, between himself and the devil, between this and the infernal world.' And he enumerates these branches as: _Divining_, or _Soothsaying_; _Observing of Times_; _Using Enchantment_; _Witchcraft_; _Charming_, or _Setting of Spells_; _Dealing with Familiar Spirits_; _Wizardising_, or _Sorcery_; and _Necromancy_.

The first chapter treats of Modern Magic, or the Black Art in its present practice and perfection.

In the second chapter the scene is changed: as the devil acted at first with his Black Art without the magicians, so the magicians seem now to carry it on without the devil. This is written in Defoe's best style of sober irony. 'The magicians,' he says, 'were formerly the devil's servants, but now they are his masters, and that to such a degree, that it is but drawing a circle, casting a few figures, muttering a little Arabic, and up comes the devil, as readily as the drawer at a tavern, with a _D'ye call, sir?_ or like a Scotch caude [caddie?], with _What's your honour's wull, sir?_ Nay, as the learned in the art say, he must come, he can't help it: then as to tempting, he is quite out of doors. And I think, as the Old Parliament did by the bishops, we may e'en vote him useless. In a word, there is no manner of occasion for him: mankind are as froward as he can wish and desire of them; nay, some cunning men tell us we sin faster than the devil can keep pace with us: as witness the late witty and moderately wicked Lady ...., who blest her stars that the devil never tempted her to anything; he understood himself better, for she knew well enough how to sin without him, and that it would be losing his time to talk to her.'

Defoe furnishes an entertaining account of his conversation with a countryman, who had been to a magician at Oundle. Whether true or fict.i.tious, the narrative shows that many of the favourite tricks performed at spiritualistic _seances_ in our own time were well known in Defoe's:

COUNTRYMAN. I saw my old gentleman in a great chair, and two more in chairs at some distance, and three great candles, and a great sheet of white paper upon the floor between them; every one of them had a long white wand in their hands, the lower end of which touched the sheet of paper.

DEFOE. And were the candles upon the ground too?

C. Yes, all of them.

D. There was a great deal of ceremony about you, I a.s.sure you.

C. I think so, too, but it is not done yet: immediately I heard the little door stir, as if it was opening, and away I skipped as softly as I could tread, and got into my chair again, and sat there as gravely as if I had never stirred out of it. I was no sooner set, but the door opened indeed, and the old gentleman came out as before, and turning to me, said, 'Sit still, don't ye stir;' and at that word the other two that were with him in the room walked out after him, one after another, across the room, as if to go out at the other door where I came in; but at the further end of the room they stopped, and turned their faces to one another, and talked; but it was some devil's language of their own, for I could understand nothing of it.

D. And now I suppose you were frighted in earnest?

C. Ay, so I was; but it was worse yet, for they had not stood long together, but the great elbow-chair, which the old gentleman sat in at the little table just by me, _began to stir of itself_; at which the old gentleman, knowing I should be afraid, came to me, and said, 'Sit still, don't you stir, all will be well; you shall have no harm;' at which he gave his chair a kick with his foot, and saith, 'Go!' with some other words, and other language; _and away went the obedient chair, sliding, two of its legs on the ground, and the other two off, as if somebody had dragged it by that part_.

D. And so, no doubt, they did, though you could not see it.

C. And as soon as the chair was dragged or moved to the end of the room, where the three, I know not what to call 'em, were, two other chairs did the like from the other side of the room, and so they all sat down, and talked together a good while; at last the door at that end of the room opened too, and they all were gone in a moment, without rising out of their chairs; for I am sure they did not rise to go out, as other folks do.

D. What did you think of yourself when you saw the chair stir so near you?

C. Think! nay, I did not think; I was dead, to be sure I was dead, with the fright, and expected I should be carried away, chair and all, the next moment. Then it was, I say, that my hair would have lifted off my hat, if it had been on, I am sure it would.

D. Well, but when they were all gone, you came to yourself again, I suppose?

C. To tell you the truth, master, I am not come to myself yet.

D. But go on, let me know how it ended.

C. Why, after a little while, my old man came in again, called his man to set the chairs to rights, and then sat him down at the table, spoke cheerfully to me, and asked me if I would drink, which I refused, though I was a-dry indeed. I believe the fright had made me dry; but as I never had been used to drink with the devil, I didn't know what to think of it, so I let it alone.

In his third chapter ('Of the present pretences of the Magicians; how they defend themselves; and some examples of their practice') Defoe has a lively account of a contemporary magician, a Dr. Bowman, of Kent, who seems to have been a firm believer in what is now called Spiritualism. He was a green old man, who went about in a long black velvet gown and a cap, with a long beard, and his upper lip trimmed 'with a kind of muschato.' He strongly repudiated any kind of correspondence or intercourse with the devil; but hinted that he derived much a.s.sistance from the good spirits which people the invisible world. After dwelling on the follies of the learned, and the superst.i.tions of the ignorant, this lordly conjurer said: 'You see how that we, men of art, who have studied the sacred sciences, suffer by the errors of common fame; they take us all for devil-mongers, d.a.m.ned rogues, and conjurers.'

The fourth chapter discusses the doctrine of spirits as it is understood by the magicians; how far it may be supposed there may be an intercourse with superior beings, apart from any familiarity with the devil or the spirits of evil; with a transition to the present times.

And so much for the 'Art of Magic' as expounded by Daniel Defoe.

In 1718 appeared Bishop Hutchinson's 'Historical Essay concerning Witchcraft,' a book written in a most liberal and tolerant spirit, and, at the same time, with so much comprehensiveness and exact.i.tude, that later writers have availed themselves freely of its stores.

Reference may also be made to--

John Beaumont, 'Treatise of Spirits, Apparitions, Witchcrafts, and other Magical Practices,' 1705.

James Braid (of Manchester), 'Magic, Witchcraft, Animal Magnetism, Hypnotism, and Electro-Biology' (1852), in which there is very little about witchcraft, but a good deal about the influence of the imagination.

J. C. Colquhoun, 'History of Magic, Witchcraft, and Animal Magnetism,'

1851.