He made the Stars to be an aid unto us, Not (as is fondly dream'd) to help undo us; Much less without our fault to ruinate By doom of irrecoverable Fate. And if our best endeavours use we will, These glorious Creatures will be helpful still In all our honest ways: for they do stand To help, not hinder us, in God's command, Who doth not only rule them by his powers But makes their glory servant unto ours. Be wise in Him, and if just cause there be The Sun and Moon shall stand and wait on thee. On the other hand the lucky adventurer proceeds with superstitious confidence in his Fortune; and the ambitious in many instances have devoted themselves, or been deceived to their own destruction. It is found accordingly that the professors of astrology generally in their private practice addressed themselves to the cupidity or the vanity of those by whom they were employed. Honest professors there were who framed their schemes faithfully upon their own rules; but the greater number were those who consulted their own advantage only, and these men being well acquainted with human nature in its ordinary character, always took this course.—Their character has changed as little as human nature itself in the course of two thousand years since Ennius expressed his contempt for them, in a passage preserved by Cicero. _Non habeo denique nauci Marsum augurem, Non vicanos haruspices, non de circo astrologos, Non Isiacos conjectores, non interpretes somnium. Non enim sunt ii aut scientiâ aut arte, divini, Sed superstitiosi vates, impudentesque harioli, Aut inertes, aut insani, aut quibus egestas imperat: Qui sibi semitam non sapiunt, alteri monstrant viam. Quibus divitias pollicentur, ab iis drachmam ipsi petunt. De his divitiis sibi deducant drachmam, reddant cætera._ Pompey, Crassus, and Cæsar were each assured by the Chaldeans that he should die in his own house, in prosperity, and in a good old age. Cicero tells us this upon his own knowledge: _Quam multa ego Pompeio, quam multa Crasso, quam multa huic ipsi Cæsari à Chaldeis dicta memini, neminem eorum nisi senectute, nisi domi, nisi cum claritate esse moriturum! ut mihi permirum videatur, quemquam extare, qui etiam nunc credat iis, quorum prædicta quotidie videat re et eventis refelli._ And before the age of Ennius, Euripides had in the person of Tiresias shewn how surely any such profession, if the professor believed in his own art, must lead to martyrdom, or falsehood. When the blind old Prophet turns away from Creon, he says, in words worthy of Milton's favourite poet, _Τὰ μὲν παρ᾽ ἡμῶν πάντ᾽ ἔχεις· ἡγοῦ, τέκνον, Πρὸς οἶκον· ὅστις δ᾽ ἐμπύρῳ χρῆται τέχνῃ, Μάταιος᾽ ἢν μὲν ἐχθρὰ σημήνας τύχῃ, Πικρὸς καθέστηχ᾽, οἷς ἂν οἰωνοσκοπῇ, Ψευδῆ δ᾽ ὑπ᾽ οἴκτου τοῖσι χρωμένοις λέγων, Ἀδικεῖ τὰ τῶν θεῶν. Φοῖβον ἀνθρώποις μόνον Χρῆν θεσπιωδεῖν, ὃς δέδοικεν οὐδένα._