A belief in magic is found among all nations. With those of unitarian views it was destined to be forced more and more into the background by the growth of speculation and natural science. With them there was also but one form of magic, although those in possession of its secret were considered able to exercise it for a useful or an injurious purpose alike. Only among nations holding dualistic views do we meet with magic in two forms: with the priests a _white_ and a _black_,--the former as the good gift of Ormuzd, the latter as the evil gift of Ahriman; with the Christians of the Middle Ages a _celestial_ magic and a _diabolical_,--the former a privilege of the Church and conferred by God as a weapon to aid in the conquest of Satan; the latter an infernal art to further unbelief and wickedness. Under a unitarian theory magic is only a preparation for natural philosophy and gradually gives place to it, until it is confined to the lowest classes as a relic of a past stage of development. The dualistic religious systems, on the contrary, blend in an intimate union with magic, give to it the same universally and eternally valid power which they ascribe to themselves, and place it on their own throne in the form of a divine and sacramental secret. Only thus can faith in magic stamp whole ages and periods of culture with its peculiar seal; only thus--after its separation into celestial and diabolical, and in that causal relation to the temporal or eternal weal or woe of man in which it is placed--does it become possessed of an absolute sovereignty over the imagination and emotions of a people. Our consideration of the middle-age magic may commence with a description of the celestial or privileged magic, that is to say, _that of the Church_; in order that we may proceed in natural order to the ill-reputed magic of the _learned_ (astrology, alchemy, sorcery), and the persecuted _popular_ magic (in which the Church saw the really diabolical form); and end with an account of the terrible catastrophe which was caused by the contest which raged between them. It is not the fault of the writer if the reader finds in the magic of the Church a caricature of what is holy, in which the comical element is overbalanced by the repulsive. The more objective the representation is to be made, the more unpleasant its features become. We will, then, be brief. * * * * * Like a thoughtful mother the Church cherishes and cares for man, and surrounds him from the cradle to the grave with its safeguards of magic. Shortly after the birth of a child the priest must be ready to sprinkle it with holy water, which by prayer and conjuration has been purified from the pollution of the demons inhabiting even this element. For the feeble being begotten in sin and by nature Lucifer's property, without the grace of baptism, would be eternally lost to heaven, and eternally doomed to the torments of hell.[14]