In the olden time, almanacs were exclusively the work of judicial astrologers. The calendar, in addition to the registration of remarkable events, and times, and tides, and predictions, in relation to the weather, presumed to foretell the affairs of mankind, and the prospective changes, in the condition of the world; not by any processes of reasoning, but by a careful contemplation of the heavenly bodies. On most occasions, these predictions were sufficiently vague, for the soothsayer's security; quite as much so, as our more modern foreshadowings, in relation to the weather, whose admonitions, to _expect a change_, _about these times_, are frequently extended from the beginning to the end of the calendar month. An example of this wariness appears, in a letter of John of Salisbury, written in 1170. "The astrologers," says he, "call this year the wonderful year, from the singular situation of the planets and constellations; and say, that, in the course of it, the councils of kings will be changed, wars will be frequent, and the world will be troubled with seditions; that learned men will be discouraged; but, towards the end of the year, they will be exalted." Emboldened, by the almost universal deference, paid to their predictions, the astrologers soon began to venture, on a measure of precision, which was somewhat hazardous. In the commencement of the year 1186, the most distinguished judicial astrologers, not only in England, but upon the continent, proclaimed, that there existed an unprecedented conjunction of the planets, in the sign Libra. Hence they predicted, that, on Tuesday, the sixteenth day of September, at three o'clock in the morning, a storm would arise, such as the world had never known before. They asserted, with an amazing confidence, that, not only individual structures would be destroyed, by this terrible storm, but that great cities would be swept away, before its fury. This tempest, according to their predictions, would be followed, by a far spreading pestilence, and by wars of unexampled severity. A particular account of these remarkable predictions may be found, on page 356 of the annals of Roger de Hoveden. No more conclusive evidence is necessary of the implicit, and universal confidence, which then prevailed, in the teachings of judicial astrology, than the wide spread dismay and consternation, produced by these bold and positive predictions. It is not possible to calculate the sum of human misery, inflicted upon society, by the terrible anticipations of these coming events. As the fatal day drew near, extraordinary preparations were everywhere made, to secure property, from the devastating effects of the approaching tempest. Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, commanded a solemn fast of three days' continuance, throughout his precinct. On the night of the fifteenth of September, very many persons sat up, in solemn expectation of the coming tempest.