Library Generation Tables - Astrological

In Britain in the 1800s, astrology was a subject of some concern: Church-minded people saw it as an affront to God, as outlined in His Bible; others were as accommodating of it as the seasons. Almanacs were big business and sold in the tens of thousands, earning publishers millions of pounds; attacks upon the prognostication business were viewed as much as an attack upon free-will and belief as upon pecuniary ambitions. The justice system saw things in a far more black-and-white fashion: under Section 4 of the Vagrancy Act of 1824, anyone receiving payment for “pretending or professing to tell Fortunes, or using any subtle Craft, Means, or any Device, by Palmistry or otherwise” was thrown unceremoniously into gaol for a minimum three-month term, with, or in preface to, a period of hard labour. Some argued that this was obviously meant as a deterrent to gypsies and thieves, but the ‘anti-astrologists’ saw it as a sanction by the Establishment in favour of their cause and made sure that all levels of society felt the lash of the Law.

Almanacs were commonplace throughout Britain and it was rare for any household, especially rural homes, to be without a copy of Old Moore’s Almanack which began circulating in 1697; by the early Nineteenth Century with a rising tide of interest in all things occult, other almanacs joined the throng with authors hiding behind mystical aliases – such as ‘Raphael’ and ‘Zadkiel’ - in order to head off the vitriol and outrage of the moral majority. Inevitably, vicious in-fighting took place between the various astrologers themselves, who belittled each other’s claims as to the accuracy and the quality of their predictions. Court cases were fought, legal definitions refined and reputations ruined while the public predilection for astrological insight refused to wane: furious condemnations of the astrologers’ art were, as often as not, printed alongside the daily horoscopes of such news organs as the “London Times” and the ”Daily Mail”. Astrologers attempted to thwart exposure by calling themselves ‘astronomers’ and hiding behind companies claiming to be ‘telescope manufacturers’; they curried the favour of their more upper-class clients seeking public endorsement but, as the Twentieth Century loomed, many of these customers preferred not to have it known that they dabbled in the ‘quasi-science’ of stargazing.

After the Great War, there were more pressing concerns besetting the British community; post World War Two, very few people regarded astrology as a serious threat to moral correctness. In 1974, the Vagrancy Act was amended and its mystical clauses removed altogether; in all likelihood, very few people noticed or cared.

Astrologists have a wealth of literature to choose from; the following list is by no means comprehensive. Be aware also that this list is not representative of Eastern astrological traditions such as those found in China and India.

01-03%	Book of Soyga (1500s)
04-10%	The Book of Thoth (Crowley)
11-14%	“A Discourse on Witchcraft...”
15-20%	“The Astrologer of the Nineteenth Century”
21-40%	“Moore’s Almanack”, “Raphael’s Astrological Almanac”, “Zadkiel’s Almanac”, et.al.
41-55%	Ephemeris
56-76%	Linda Goodman’s Sun Signs et.al.
77-81%	The Philosophical Merlin
82-86%	A Plea for Urania
87-90%	Christian Astrology
91-94%	The Golden Dawn (1936)
95-97%	The Occult Sciences
98-00%	The Tarot: A Treatise

“The Astrologer of the Nineteenth Century” (aka “The Straggling Astrologer”)

“The Straggling Astrologer” of 1824 (later re-named as “The Astrologer of the Nineteenth Century”) was Robert Cross Smith’s first foray into the world of journals and was a weekly magazine with himself as editor: he is identified only as one of ‘the Mercurii’, a spurious group which he claimed was comprised of the brightest intellectuals in the land, indulging in occult matters. Complete with articles written by “HRH the Princess Olive of Cumberland”, supposedly the unacknowledged daughter of King George III’s brother, the magazine failed to attract much interest and folded after 22 issues. Smith’s new publisher Walter Charlton Wright, took the remaindered issues and bound them together as a book which was launched for sale in 1825. In this collection, Smith revealed his new nom de plume which would serve him for the rest of his career – ‘Raphael’.

Not discouraged, Wright and ‘Raphael’ decided to produce a second edition of the periodical, with colour plates and more edifying articles. Dedicated, somewhat unexpectedly, to Sir Walter Scott, the magazine covered such topics as invoking spirits, anecdotes of the dead and “wonderful prophecies by celebrated astrologers”. Sales tanked and Wright became bankrupt; he was forced to sell the magazine to another company – Knight & Lacey – who also lost magnificently on the project and who sold it off to another London bookshop, where it faded away.

The Book of Soyga

Dee scholars were aware that the Elizabethan magus used a volume of lore entitled The Book of Soyga in his researches because of the many references he made to it in his own writings. From available evidence it appeared to be an insightful book about astrology and its workings. Unfortunately, it could not be located and was thought to be a lost work.

However, in 1994, Dee scholar Deborah Harkness discovered two references to volumes held at the British Library (Sloane MS. 8) – Tractatus Astrologica Magicus - and the Bodleian Library at Oxford (Bodley MS. 908) – Aldaraia sive Soyga vocor - which appeared to be the same work. Upon examination, they turned out to be the same book.

Now catalogued as the Book of Aldaraia, this is a 95-page work discussing theories of magic in general with a particular focus on astrology. Dee himself preferred the name The Book of Soyga, but the earlier name was deemed to more applicable. A copy of this work discovered in the library of an astrological practitioner would indicate a serious application to the craft.

Crowley’s Book of Thoth

This title refers to both the set of tarot cards which Crowley designed and commissioned (amongst his many failings is an inability to draw) and the volume which he wrote to accompany his theories about astrology and – inevitably – how they apply to his own theories of Thelema. This should not be confused with the Mythos work of the same name which is a rather more potent beast of a different order. Like most works on the tarot, it draws much of its symbolism and meaning from astrology, the Kabbalah and other diverse bodies of arcane lore.

Depending on the Keeper’s personal view of Crowley’s competence, this could be a rigorous tome of lore or a compete squib; I know which option I’d choose...

Christian Astrology (aka An Introduction to Astrology)

Throughout the Seventeenth Century astrology was almost universally held to be an active force in peoples’ lives; at the height of the English Civil War, astrologers such as William Lilly (1602-1681) earned huge respect for their prognostications which were published widely and speculated upon by all levels of Society. Strangely enough, most of the astrologers at work at the time rallied on the side of the Roundheads and, with the Restoration of the Crown, most fell – along with their ‘science’ - into disrepute. By the start of the Eighteenth Century, astrology was the province of the lower classes, the uneducated and the illiterate. The practitioners were wielders of a craft not deep in its intricacies: signs and omens were interpreted, comets and eclipses were feared, the phases of the moon discussed in terms of the best times for planting cabbages and so forth. As a science it was homespun indeed and inextricably linked to the rural lifestyle.

William Lilly wrote this manual as an introduction to the art in the Seventeenth Century and it became an English classic of the field. You’ll note that he used the ‘C’ word in the title to take the curse off the whole project. Much later on, it was edited and reprinted with annotations and retitled An Introduction to Astrology.

“A Discourse On Witchcraft: Occasioned By A Bill Now Depending In Parliament, To Repeal The Statute Made In The First Year Of The Reign Of King James I, Intituled, An Act Against Conjuration, Witchcrafts And Dealing With Evil And Wicked Spirits.”

A catchpenny title published by John Read of London in 1736, this work outlines an opposition to the repealing of James I’s witchcraft laws. It makes a specific case as to why such laws should be maintained and obviously was of made of such convincing stuff that the laws were left intact. As an indicator, England’s laws against the practise of witchcraft – which eventually became part of the Vagrancy Act - were only repealed through long disuse in the 1970s. If found in the library of an astrologer, its presence is probably only an historical whimsy; unless the owner has had direct experience of oppression under such legislation...

Ephemeris

An ephemeris (plural: ephemerides) is a series of charts which show the position of planets in our solar system relative to the Earth. In short, they indicate to what degree any planet occupies a sign of the Zodiac at any particular time. These lists are produced with the assistance of astronomical authorities, however they have little or no function within the scope of that science (other than - no doubt - funding vital research).

An ephemeris is an essential tool for the professional astrologer and will be an expected mainstay of any practitioner’s library, to the point where not finding one might well be highly suspicious, or indicative of a fraud. When compiling the library of such an operator, the Keeper may choose, instead of a printed version of this document, to list a number of bookmarks to various online services which replicate the functions of an ephemeris, on the owner’s computer.

Linda Goodman’s Sun Signs, et.al.

Books on how to construct a “native chart” or containing descriptions of the twelve fundamental personality types of the Zodiac are a dime-a-dozen. They range from the insightful to the slight, from the populist to the forbidding, and often cross lines within these camps. Sun Signs by Linda Goodman came out in the 1970s and was marketed to create a huge market penetration, eventually becoming a bestseller. It contains excellent foundation knowledge for anyone looking to explore astrology, but is often undercut by its populist appeal and its capitalising sequels (Love Signs, for example). Similarly, Parkers’ Astrology looks and feels like a trite coffee table book with its lavish illustrations and its quarto format in either hardcover or paperback, but its material is equally rigorous. There are myriad books which poke fun at Zodiacal personalities while offering useful insights; volumes which focus on the effects of a single planet upon a personality; books which combine the Chinese Zodiac with the Western tradition; and almanacs which detail the coming twelve months for individual sun signs, to name but a few variations. All of these types of books – useful or otherwise – can be included in this result.

Moore’s Almanack (aka “Moore’s Vox Stellarum”, “Vox Stellarum”, “Old Moore’s Monthly Messenger” or “Old Moore’s Almanack”)

“It has been brought to my notice that in the higher circles of Society (unless I am borrowed from the kitchen or surreptitiously taken out of the pocket for private perusal) I am, in my humble garb of a penny or twopenny almanack, seldom permitted to shine forth (as I am told I ought to) in the upper parts of the mansion. This has determined me to put on once a month a fashionable coat; not exactly a court suit but garments that will shew due respect to my new clientele.”

-Old Moore’s Monthly Messenger

In 1697 Francis Moore started his almanac – “Moore’s Almanack” – and it became the guiding manual for the lower classes, directing and diverting their lives on the basis of its prognostications and practical advice. It was destined to be a tome of the common people, forbidden ‘above stairs’ and largely unknown amongst the educated classes. By the Nineteenth Century and the arrival of such astrological superstars as ‘Raphael’ and ‘Zadkiel’, astrology began an upward rise and, in the hands of newer writers and publishers, “Moore’s Almanack” morphed through a number of title changes into a more sophisticated astrological journal and, as the above quote shows, more than certain of its burgeoning readership amongst the middle and upper classes.

The Philosophical Merlin – A Complete System of Occult Philosophy

Robert Cross Smith was born in 1795 and came from a working-class background. Self-educated, he became enamoured of astrology and spent his life trying to find a way to make astrology pay its way for him. He moved to London and fell in with the occult underground, becoming friends with Rosicrucian Francis Barrett (author of The Magus) and John Denley owner of an occult bookshop in Covent Garden, who would later help publish and sell some of Smith’s many works.

Conceived by Smith (later ‘Raphael’) and balloonist/occultist George Graham, The Philosophical Merlin was released in 1822 through John Denley’s imprint. It claimed to be a translation of a manuscript once owned by Napoleon Bonaparte but was merely a pastiche of material cribbed from Barrett’s Magus, who, as a friend of the authors, obviously had no issue with their wholesale ransacking of his masterwork. The public were less inclined to be amenable to the book and it sold very badly, with the unsold copies being eventually remaindered.

“The Prophetic Messenger” (aka “Raphael’s Prophetic Messenger”, “The Prophetic Almanac” & “Raphael’s Astrological Almanac”)

“[May 1831] will be a month of disasters...One of an illustrious family is troubled or afflicted; something remarkable may happen to a Princess, or a Noble Lady; a great man dies, and there is evil news from foreign parts.”

-The Prophetic Messenger, May 1831

By 1826, Raphael had decided to abandon astrology and open a coffee house instead. In seeking funds to back this project he discovered that Walter Charlton Wright, the unlucky publisher of many of Raphael’s previous half-baked efforts, was solvent again and, what’s more, willing to embark upon another magazine venture with Smith. They planned a more daring organ, an annual which would combine occult sensationalism along with predictions which were highly specific; most importantly, it included astrological forecasts for every day of the coming year. Surprisingly, probably for the publisher and editor as well, the almanac boomed and demand forced a reprint to take place. The formula of a daily advice chronicle designed for city-dwellers struck a chord with Britain’s middle-classes and they flocked to buy it: by 1831 there were over 8,000 subscribers.

The May 1831 prediction above was supposed to refer to George IV but was a month premature; instead, the “great man” turned out to be Raphael himself, who passed away due to complications surrounding tuberculosis in May of that year. An astrologer by the name of Dixon came forward to Raphael’s widow to ask permission to continue the journal, only to find that the astrologer had already handed over the reins to other editors in the form of two of his students, Palmer and Moody by name. In annoyance, Dixon, who had always been critical of Raphael’s predictions, printed “The True Prophetic Messenger of 1833” in opposition and then faded from the scene.

Wright continued to publish the “Messenger” and handed over the title of ‘Raphael’ to a series of astrologers: Palmer (now working solo) died at the helm in 1837 to be replaced by one Medhurst, who predicted as ‘Raphael III’. Wakely took over in 1853 to be replaced a year later by R. V. Sparkes who continued until his death in 1875. In 1876, the youngest ever ‘Raphael’, Robert T. Cross, took over at the age of 25 and kept the magazine flourishing until he died in 1923. By now renamed “The Prophetic Almanac”, Cross’s tenure saw circulation increase to over 190,000. The almanac is still in publication today as “Raphael’s Astrological Almanac” but it is a much reduced affair in comparison to the earlier iterations; copyright has remained with the Cross family ever since his death.

“Zadkiel’s Almanac” (aka “The Herald of Astrology”)

“I regret to see that some fighting will still go on; yet the slaves are seen to be freed, and the nature of the quarrel will be entirely altered; and, after the month of May, it seems to die out by sheer exhaustion...I find Jupiter strong in the Ascendant, which will render the people pacific and reasonable, and disposed to peace, which, I have no doubt, will take place under the benefic influence of this Eclipse.”

-Zadkiel, in 1864, accurately predicts the end of the American Civil War

Newly retired from the Royal Navy, the pugnacious and self-righteous Lt. Richard James Morrison, decided to reject scientific and heretofore-accepted astrological dogma and strike forth, Quakerishly, on his own path of stargazing and cash generation. A prickly Biblical fundamentalist, he lectured widely through the industrial capitals of Britain, especially, Manchester and Birmingham, espousing his views on the state of the world and mankind’s place within it. A charismatic speaker, he convinced many working-class illiterates to follow his cause and, in this fashion, established his bona fides.

Having entered the game with his idiosyncratic views of prognostication, Morrison decided to launch his own almanac, patterned on Raphael’s version but designed to undercut its market presence. It was bolder, brasher and, more importantly, cheaper than the Raphael version and soon outsold it across the country: by 1867 “The Herald of Astrology” was moving over 44,000 units annually. Morrison chose to publish under the pseudonym ‘Zadkiel’ an angelic figure known as the standard-bearer of the Archangel Michael. In time his publication changed its name to “Zadkiel’s Almanac” and nearly became the pre-eminent fortune-telling organ in the country.

A Plea for Urania

Christopher Cooke was a young lawyer who attended a lecture given by Zadkiel and was, as a result, convinced of the truth of astrology. He offered to act as legal counsel and a kind of amanuensis for the famed astrologer and was fated to live to regret it. Zadkiel made abominable use of Cooke’s education and connexions, embroiling him and others in various financial schemes that inevitably crashed hard, leaving Zadkiel blithely unaffected. Cooke’s position as a lawyer was a tenuous one as, incontrovertibly under the law, astrology was illegal; however he devoted much of his life to fighting for a reform of the Vagrancy Act and to helping those who felt its sting. In 1854, he wrote this book which is a measured series of arguments acknowledging the anti-astrologists’ causes for complaint but reasonably countering these with strategies which would make them less offensive in their eyes. He ends by describing the ‘science’ behind the art, in a convincing description of its mathematical rigour. The book sold only 250 copies and was quickly remaindered; had it been less measured and more sensational, it might have performed somewhat better.

(Incidentally, the title stems from the widely held belief at the time that Uranus was the planet which governed the art of astrology.)

The Solar System As It Is, and Not As It Is Represented

Zadkiel’s highly idiosyncratic approach to the subject of astrology was outlined in 1858 by this and other similar works. According to this book, he describes the planets revolving around the Sun as we know them to do, with the exception of the Earth: apparently, the Sun and Moon in this model revolve around our planet. The Sun he says is 365,006 miles from the Earth and it revolves at a rate of 99,897 miles per hour; we know in fact that the Sun is 93 million miles distant and rotates at 558,000 miles per hour. Reviews of this work were confused and generally poor; despite this, Morrison lectured on the subject to almost 1,000 people in March of that year at the London Mechanics’ Institute in Manchester. The incident only served to prove - to Morrison at least - that the critics were very much his intellectual inferiors.

Morrison died of heart failure in 1874. His mantle as ‘Zadkiel’ was passed on to R. V. Sparkes who was, in what was more than somewhat a conflict of interests, also ‘Raphael V’. With his death in 1876, Alfred James Pearce took over as ‘Zadkiel III’ and re-invented the magazine, successfully boosting sales beyond the 100,000 subscribers mark by the time of his death in 1923. Without him at the helm however, the almanac quickly dwindled and folded by 1931.

Next: Cabbalistic