A story, which strongly proves how much Charles II. was bigoted to judicial astrology, and whose mind was certainly not unenlightened, is recorded in Burnet’s History of his own times. The most respectable characters of the age, Sir William Dugdale, Elias Ashmole, Dr. Grew, and others, were members of an astrological club[7]. Congreve’s character of Foresight, in Love for Love, was then no uncommon person, though the humour now is scarcely intelligible. Dryden cast the nativities of his sons; and, what is remarkable, his prediction relating to his son Charles, was accomplished. This incident is of so late a date, one might hope it would have been cleared up; but, if it be a fact, it must be allowed that it forms a rational exultation for its irrational adepts. In 1670, the passion for horoscopes and expounding the stars, prevailed in France among the first rank. The new-born child was usually presented naked to the astrologer, who read the first lineaments in its forehead, and the transverse lines in its hands, and thence wrote down its future destiny. Catherine de Medicis brought Henry IV. then a child, to old Nostradamus, whom antiquaries esteem more for his Chronicle of Provence than for his vaticinating powers. The sight of the reverend seer, with a beard which “streamed like a meteor in the air,” terrified the future hero, who dreaded a whipping from so grave a personage. Will it be credited, that one of these magicians, having assured Charles IX. that he would live as many days as he should turn about on his heels in an hour, standing on one leg, that his Majesty every morning performed that solemn exercise for an hour; the principal officers of the court, the judges, the chancellors, and generals, likewise, in compliment, standing on one leg, and turning round! It has been reported of several famous for their astrological skill, that they have suffered a voluntary death merely to verify their own predictions: this has been said of Cardan, and Burton the author of the Anatomy of Melancholy. It is curious to observe the shifts to which astrologers are put when their predictions are not verified. Great winds were predicted, by a famous adept, about the year 1586. No unusual storms, however, happened. Bodin, to save the reputation of the art, applied it as a figure to some _revolutions_ in the state, and of which there were instances enough at that moment. Among their lucky and unlucky days, they pretend to give those of various illustrious persons and of families. One is very striking:—Thursday was the unlucky day of our Henry VIII. He, his son Edward VI. Queen Mary, and Queen Elizabeth, all died on a _Thursday_! This fact had, no doubt, great weight in this controversy of the astrologers with their adversaries.