Observations upon the Strange & Wonderful PROPHECIES OF Mr. John Gadbury, now Prisoner in the Gate-House for High Trason. WITH Astrological Predictions For the YEAR, 1680.
SHEWING, From the Choicest Rules in the Sidereal Sciences, What Grand Revolutions or Accidents are likely to happen in Every Month, respectively, in many Parts of the World: Especially, ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, & IRELAND. AS ALSO, The Death of the POPE Fore-told, &c.
COrruptio optimi est pessima. As the Art of Astrology is in it self of Noble Extraction, and a Nature sublime: So has no Secular Science been more grosly abused, whil'st Fools Idolize it, Half-witted-Coxcombs Contemn it, and Crafty Knaves Use it, as a Politick-Engine to boulster up a Cheat, or colour their Mischievous Designes.
When the Famous Popish Gun-Powder-Plot was discovered, there was one Gresham, (a Papist, and small Pretender to the Mathematicks) was violently suspected to have some Hand in't, because he wrote so near the Matter in his Almanack. Young Nostredame, to fulfill a certain Prophecy of his, That in such a Year, such a City should be burnt, set it on Fire himself; and for the same, received his Just Reward.
I know not, whether we have any such Cunning-Men among'st us at this day: Yet cannot but observe to the World, some notable Passages of a Notorious Astrologician, Mr. J. G. in his Almanack for the approaching Year, 1680.
This Gentleman, having (by what Art, I determine not) obtain'd, it seems, some Notions of certain Occurrences, that were design'd to happen; was so full of the Business, that at the first dash, he breaks Bulk, and presents us with these presaging Lines in January.
A very pretty Predictive Him! And had not the Dragon's-Tayl, in Conjunction with the Meal-Tubb, hindered, it might in due time, have ripen'd into a Prophecy.
In February, he uses this shrewd Expression:
I trust, this may not prove altogether Oraculous; and yet, that which is not Improbable, to be sure, is not Impossible. There are People, that would gladly make a Rebellion, if they cannot find it; nay, would purchase it at any Rate, to blanch their own black Purposes. And certainly, that which follows in the same Page, (if properly applyed to the Be-Jesuited Bigots of the Bloody Romish Synagogue) is true to an Hairs-bredth; viz.
In the Month of March, he hath these words:
This, in Defyance of Envy, and for the Credit of Art, and that Well-Experienc'd Author, I will adventure to call a Prophecy. And, as Providence hath hitherto since the Writing thereof, accomplish't the same; so let it be our continual Prayers, That it may still be verifyed for the Future: That so our Authors Menaces in June, may be defeated; viz.
I shall not insist upon that Passage, in the Second Page of his Prog; because, 'tis probable, himself did not enough regard it; viz.
But in the Third Page following, there is a Villainous Squinting Prognostick; that, perhaps, deserves a Severer Animadversion, than I can bestow. He is speaking of an Eclipse of the Sun in Aries, happening the Twentyeth of March, 1680. Upon which, he drops these Insolent Words:
In plain English thus, — If there shall be an Eclipse in Aries (as this is) or Leo, it signifies the Death of the KING.
And though he Translate it a little more generally thus,—An Eclipse of Sol in Aries or Leo, betokens the Death, or Downfal, of some great Emperour or Prince: Yet even this his English amounts to the same thing. For in the Words before, without any Occasion given by his Author, who speaks indefinitely, he had appropriated this to England, by naming That particularly: And goes on to Justify such his Impudent Judgment, saying,
But we have a more sure Word of Prophecy. — The Lord frustrateth the Tokens of the Lyars, and maketh Diviners mad, turneth Wise-Men back-wards, and maketh their Knowledge foolish, Isa. 44.25.
However, the Consideration hereof, is modestly submitted to Authority; whilst we only say: —
And now, that we may Gratify the Reader's Curiosity, that would needs be Pick-Locking the Closet of Fate; we shall present him with some Innocent Predictions on each of the Twelve Months, of the ensuing Year, 1680. deduced from as Authentick Grounds in Art, as any Well-willer to the Mathematicks in the Town can boast of. And first of —
January.
THE Year begins with Lofty Tow'ring Winds; which, 'tis hoped, may blow all the Jesuits into Lubber-Land. Towards the End of the Month, their Popish-Plot begins to stink worse than his Holyness, when he was Roasted the other Evening at Temple-Bar, with a Catt in his Belly. Some New Discoveries are made, and fresh Animosities and Accusations break forth: And not a few Conscious Traytors, who thought themselves secure, are brought upon the Stage. Nor will all their Interest, be able longer to screw them from Incensed Justice.
February.
MArs, and the Sun, meet in Consultation. 'Tis a Good Omen, when Authority, and Power, are United. What great Martialist is he, that now receives a Check? or languishing with the Tortures of a Guilty Conscience, Resigns his Breath? The General Peace, which seem'd hovering over Europe, is now upon the Wing; and threatens once more, to leave Christendom to the Rage of Bellona; though divers prudent, moderate Statesmen, use all their Endeavours, to Court her longer Stay. Good News arrives about the Twenty-Seventh Day, to our Merchants, from the South-West; and curious seasonable Weather, concludes the Month.
March.
MArch comes in like a Lion: And Mens Actions are as rough and tempestuous, as the Weather. There are Clouds gathering, which may possibly Eclipse the French Grandeur. More petty Counter-Plots are Hatched, but vanish in Smoak. And the devises of Mischief, are Entrapped in their own Pit-falls. Little March Dust is to be expected. Lofty debate in Supream Counsels; and preparations every where making, for War; and yet every body pretends for Peace. The Swede Suffers: Brandenburgh is Active: The Empire labours under the Male-effects of pernitious Councels. How long, Oh ye Illustrious Princes of Europe, will you suffer your selves to be Managed and abused by that pestilent Society, which seeks your Ruine, and to enslave you, all to their Grand Ecclesiastical Idol?
April.
THis is generally a moist Moneth, and perhaps some may Weep Sanguine Tears. What New Plot, or Stratagem is this, which is now turn'd up Trump? The Trade of London increases, in spite of all her Popish Enemies, who have vow'd her Destruction. News Arrives from Ireland: Great Things are upon the Wheel: Murders, and Casualties, more than ordinarily frequent
May.
SOl, and Jupiter, are in Conjunction; some prejudice happens to an Eminent Judge. Fiat Justitia, [...]ruat Mundus: What think you, if the Pope should about this time, take a turn to Purgatory. 'Tis most probable, that Death, or at least, Sickness, Seizes his Holy-ship. 'Tis generally, a Crazy Time; and Men are neither well in their Bodys, nor well in their Wits. What foolish Rumour is that, now buzz'd abroad? Believe it not. 'Tis the First-born of the Father of Lies.
June.
O London! London! God in Heaven Bless thee! The Popes Blessing, or Curse, signifies not three leaps of a Louse: But the Mercies of Wicked, are Cruel. Be Wise, and be Obedient; and, in this thy Day, know the Time of thy Visitation. May the good Hand of providence, protect thee from Casualties. The High and Mighty, are in a Strait; and the Flower de-Luces, are withered with the too fervent Kisses of the Sun. If Old More be whetting his Hatchet to Cut down a Tall Cedar or two in Europe, who can help it? Fiat voluntas Dei.
July.
FRequent Showers disturb the Hay-makers. A new Disease sweeps many into their Grave: Fires are Threatned. Let our Metropolis be careful, to prevent them. Ah Jockey! What's the matter? Is it thy fault, or thy unfortune. Let Pragmatical, or Traiterous Spirits, look to it. Raro Antecedentum. &c.
August.
ABout the Fourteenth Day, expect great Rains and Thunder. Nor are mens minds more Calm, than the air; but agitated with the Hurricanes of violent Passions. The Twentyeth Day, is of fatal Consequence to some affairs: And, I fear, a very bad Harvest. Cheats, Robberies, Quarrels, Duels, and Treacherous wicked Actions, make up too great a part of this Moneths Business.
September.
FIne pleasant Weather, and affairs generally tending to an hopeful Posture; yet some Murmurings are heard. London, Remember Sixty Six, and the Cursed Instruments of that Desolation Good News from Italy. But tell us, O Apollo! What Tydings is brought about this Time, in a Pacquet from France?
October.
Tis now Fall of the Leafe; and all the Fig-leaves wherewith the Jesuite, and Popish Emissaries, cover'd and adorn'd their Villainous Plots, are blown away, and left them to the view of all the World, in their primitive. What mean all Almanack-writers, to leave Justice Godfreys Martyrdome out of their Calenders? He deserves it, far better than some of those Popish Ragamuffins, wherewith they blot their Pages.
November.
THough our Author leave out the Gun-power-Plot; yet I positively predict, it shall be Remembered. The Weather grows Cold, as the Charity of the Times. The Season admits of little Action: but there are the Devil, and all the Councel on foot; but Malium Consilium Consultori pessimum.
December.
SHarp Frost, the most part of Moneth, Lies in a abundance, spread abroad. The Stars are busy in mingling their Rays; whence Men should be Active too. Notable Actions will shortly manifest themselves. An Eminent person is snatcht away; and the Year seems to end but untowardly.