The sixteenth century was an age of superstitions, the inevitable parasites of a debased religion, and often stronger than religion itself. Both Catherine and Charles IX. had their astronomers and alchemists; and an agreement is extant between the king and one Jean des Gallans, in which the latter promises to transmute “all imperfect metals into fine gold and silver.”[190] The early death of Charles is ascribed by Bodin to his having spared the life of the famous sorcerer Trois Échelles.[191] Catherine was so credulous as to believe that La Mole and Coconnas had compassed the king’s death by melting a waxen image of him before the fire, and they were particularly “questioned,” or tortured, as to whether they had not _envouté_ Charles IX. A singular chain, or amulet, once worn by the queen-mother, has been often engraved.[192] Nostradamus was the great oracle of the age, and thousands visited the little town of Salon in Provence to purchase of him the secrets of the future. He is reported to have shown Catherine the throne of France occupied by Henry IV. This was shortly before the accident that befell Henry II., whose death the astrologer was supposed to have prophesied, in a barbarous quatrain.[193] Almanacs and prognostications of the future were forbidden to be published as “against the express command of God,” unless they had received the imprimatur of the bishop or archbishop, who thus enjoyed a monopoly of fortune-telling.[194] Strange visions appeared; the Wandering Jew was seen in many places, a tall man with long white hair floating over his shoulders and walking barefoot. Signs were visible in the heavens: fiery swords flashed across the midnight sky, and rivers flowed back toward their sources. Diabolical possession was common, men and women were turned into wolves, and prowled about the cemeteries. The witches held their sabbaths undisturbed by the thunders of a Church which took no steps to remove the general ignorance. It has always been the policy of Rome to keep men ignorant, that she may keep them slaves. The sorcerers whom the Senate of Toulouse held to trial in 1577 were alone more numerous than all other classes of criminals for two years before. More than 400 were condemned to perish by fire, and, most surprising! nearly all of them bore the mark of the devil on their person.[195] Gregory does not tell us whether they were all executed; but it is easy to conclude that people, accustomed to such sentences and such judicial massacres, could not have felt much sympathy toward a few wretched heretics burned or hanged for reviling the _Bon Dieu_.