The American Almanac and the Astrology Factor
CENTURY LITERARY HISTORIAN Moses Coit Tyler, in his 1881 survey A History
of American Literature, assigned the almanac to polar ends of the early
American mind. Having long suffered literary scorn, the almanac was, in
Tyler's appraisal, the "most despised, most prolific, most indispensable
of books, which every man uses, and no man praises." It was, Tyler
the very quack, clown, pack-horse, and pariah"
of American literature, but also "the supreme and only literary necessity
-- preferable even to the Bible or daily newspaper.1
While Tyler hinted at a kind of perpetuating legacy of almanacs ("the
one universal book of modern literature"), scholars such as Bernard
Capp and Herbert Leventhal buried the persuasive almanac beside the persuasive
astrological chart sometime prior to the dawn of the eighteenth century.2
That said, the preponderance of almanacs in the eighteenth century --
when Boston supplanted Cambridge as handmaiden to the American almanac
by way of establishing independent printing presses -- suggests that no
successful effort was made to eliminate them.
It has been argued that astrology and almanacs enjoyed a symbiotic
relationship in which each was fitted to serve utilitarian necessity.3
The relationship appears to have been pronounced in Europe, where almanacs
emerged as a reflection of the beliefs and methodologies of the early
modern period. American almanacs, on the other hand, largely have been
cast as weak imitations of their European progenitors and as not playing
a great role in contouring religious, social and intellectual lines. Capp,
whose comprehensive study of European almanacs spans three centuries,
concedes that the rise of the American almanac ran concurrent with the
decay of astrology. The American almanac thus, Capp asserts, "naturally
evolved in a different direction."4
One question that requires our attention is this: Why shouldn't the
American almanac in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries have opted
to take a direction different from that of its English, French or Hanoverian
forbears? Could that direction, moreover, been developed more consciously
and actively rather than 'naturally' and passively? Lastly, what effect
did the American almanac have on the colonial mind?
The purpose of this undertaking is to trace a clear expansion of thought
that did not necessarily run counter to popular religion but instead offered
alternatives to the ways early Americans perceived their world. The American
almanac, of European antecedence but differing in function, shall be used
as a determining factor that elicited awareness of the emerging study
of astrology. The science of astrology, which almanacs granted mass exposure
that cut a swath across class and culture lines in early America, helped
signal the encroachment of an increasingly secular world.
"A BRIEFE HISTORY OF ALMANACKS" IN WORLDS OLD AND NEW
How are the mighty fallen! It was not always thus. Far away in the
dim vista of the past this humble vehicle of general knowledge was an
honored guest at every fireside; the chimney corner was its throne and
its well-thumbed leaves gave evidence of the estimation in which it
-- Samuel Briggs on almanacs, 1891 5
THE HISTORY OF WRITTEN ALMANACS has been traced to the second century
of the common era, when Greeks from Alexandria began recording observations
in organized form. The first printed almanac dates to 1457 (printed by
Gutenberg in Mentz). In 1660s London, sales averaged about 400,000 copies
annually.6 As Capp suggests, the almanac's value
to Elizabethan and Stuart England was not rooted in any lofty literary
quality. The almanac found its way into the hands of the public, discerning
and otherwise, because it covered a range of material "cheaply and
concisely."7 This was a carryover of the English
almanac in America, as well.
The high-water mark of English almanacs has been recognized as the
years between 1640 and 1700, when the genre diversified by exploring sociopolitical
and religious issues.8 During the Elizabethan period,
the English almanac began to assume the format we are familiar with today.
A principal section included a calendar and was lavishly illustrated with
Integral to the English almanac was the 'Zodiac Man,' a figure that
depicted various parts of the body as correspondent to astrological readings.
Finally, the prognostications (or "predictions") index covered
four quarters of a calendar year with weather reports, medical notes and
farming information accordingly assigned to that particular portion of
the year. These were standard features of the English almanac, though
some were refined and modified over time.9
Capp and other scholars indicate that almanac-makers soon opted for
regionalization, which allowed the authors to address the specific needs
and interests of their communities. Many almanacs proved they were not
too exalted for dull or uninspiring doggerel verse, even if the poetry
appertained to medical advice.10 Likewise, some
almanacs demonstrated sensationalism was not beneath their authors. Far-fetched
prophesies, baseless political speculation and acidic social commentary
could be found even in the most profitable publications. By the end of
the Stuart period, English almanac-makers distressed over how to reach
the wide and divergent tastes of the London class system, while at the
same time, remain committed to work of a higher quality. Also, the almanac
author had a vague notion at best of what the public desired most. "Almanacs
sought to fill many roles," Capp writes, "and it is difficult
to determine which section the buyer felt to be most important."11
Of the extant English almanacs from the Elizabethan and Stuart periods,
the majority was property of landed gentry or professional tradesmen,
though it is clear their readership was exclusive of class or trade.12
The American almanac indeed evolved along different lines and flourished
under ideal circumstances. No newspaper existed in the colonies before
1704 (the Boston News-Letter) and no magazine before 1740 (Andrew Bradford's
The American Magazine). The first colonial almanac can be traced to 1639,
when a publication called the Almanack Calculated for New England, by
Mr. [William] Pierce, Mariner was printed on the Harvard University Press,
then just a year old. Printed in 16-page book form, these early almanacs
included a title page, information on eclipses, the annual calendar and
notes on the courts.13 Prominent to the early American
almanac was a riff from the European 'Zodiac Man.' Even readers with only
crude literacy skills could use the 'Zodiac Man' to connect parts of the
body with signs of the horoscope or prescribe cures for nagging diseases.14
In American almanacs, this feature went by a variety of names, including
homo signorum, the Man of Signs, moon's man, the "naked man"
or "anatomy." Whereas the European almanac experimented with
modifications over the course of its long and illustrated history, the
American version adhered to established conventions. "Any later departure
from established formal would risk the loss of readers
to find certain items in certain places," researcher Marion Stowell
suggests.15 It was not the format, though, which
made the colonial almanac the most successful vehicle of the secular literary
tradition in the New World.
Seventeenth century colonial almanacs found an immediate audience.
The Cambridge (Massachusetts) printing press produced 157 books between
1639 -- the birth year of the American almanac -- and 1670. In this span
of four decades, almanacs were exceeded in publication only by religious
books, tracts and sermons.16 This is remarkable
when considering the vitality of religion in early America. In terms of
numbers alone, almanacs were published in far greater quantity than all
other books combined in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.17
How many almanacs were in print in this span of 170 years? Charles Evans'
American Bibliography, a 12-volume work that took him 31 years to complete,
lists more than 1,100 different almanacs published between 1639 and 1799.
Historically, the American almanac, while clearly English in origin,
occupies a unique place in the story of our literary culture. It has been
dismissed as derivative, ordinary and even plagiaristic, but the almanac
has played a great role in broadening the scope of American social and
intellectual horizons. It will be argued in succeeding pages that the
American almanac, which reached the hands of colonial Americans in greater
number than any religious book, made inroads into a growing secular society
through the selected so-called "occult sciences" of astrology.
"WHEREIN IS CONTAINED ACCOUNTS OF ASTROLOGYE:"
COPERNICAN SCIENCE CROSSES THE ATLANTIC
Some Degree of Superstition, mixed with and overbalanced by the
Light and Influence of Religion, leads Men on to a greater Degree of
Goodness; so in Astrology, the Superstition of which in Politicks, with
good Sense and Learning, and the Use of all Lawful means, may lead Men
on to Greatness.
-- Dr. Nathaniel Ames, The Almanack for 1764 19
Strange Things this Year will come to pass,
I'm told by some Ass-trological Glass,
The Birds will sing, and Sheep will bleat,
And hungry Folks will want to eat.
-- Poor Robin's Almanack, 1690 20
Billy and Dicky, Peggy and Molly must see the Man on the Moon;
and when the little child cries, the great one runs for the Almanack,
to bless the House with Peace.
-- Jacob Taylor, in contempt of almanacs, 1743 21
BEFORE DISCUSSING HOW AMERICAN ALMANACS raised an awareness of astrology
in the colonies and helped change the texture of society, it is necessary
to identify astrological science. In its construction, astrology was an
ordered, methodical attempt to understand natural phenomena. Existing
scientific laws, tried and true from the ancients on through Copernicus
and Kepler and later Newton, were used prudently as a guide. Astrology
as a practical science was a means prescribed to meet rational ends, which
makes its alleged deterioration in the Age of Reason puzzling.22
The invention of the telescope in the latter half of the eighteenth century
altered the discipline dramatically, and from a purely technical point
of view. Scientists intrigued with cosmology discarded the astrolabe in
favor of the telescope, which presumably helped them reach more rational
Born of eastern origins, astrology in the early modern period was
a study of solar eclipses, lunar eclipses and planetary movements. The
calculating astrologer, who cultivated new solutions and new inquiries
alike at rigorous research institutions such as Oxford, Cambridge and
Trinity, sought a more revealing utility for his science. Did the planets
share relationships? Were the planets in cooperation or were they in opposition?
Could these relationships create effects that altered events on earth?
These all were challenging questions for the astrologer, but the excitement
of using knowledge gained from critically watching the skies pressed his
science to new practical heights. These ambitions, thought to intersect
with existing dogma created by the religious superstructure, met resistance
and fierce condemnation from the church.
The practice of astrology drove a deep cleft between its study and
Christianity. Given the climate of the times and the leverage religiosity
enjoyed over all things secular, derision of astrology seems natural.
It was pointed out in scorn that the very term "zodiac" comes
from the Greek for "band of animals."23
Thomas More's Utopians were less than convinced: "But as for astrology
- friendships and quarrels between the planets, fortune-telling by the
stars and all the rest of that humbug - they've never even dreamt of such
The frosty disposition of the church toward astrology also had an
effect on how it was received and pursued by the public. One Joseph Blagrave
(in England) admitted in 1673 that clients who wished to remain anonymous
consulted him for astrological readings, fearing the ire of the church.
In spite of the aspirations of English astrologer Robert Boyle and others
who believed astrology complemented Christianity, the discipline largely
was received with castigation and outright mockery. Copernican science
would carry this cumbersome baggage en route to the shores of the New
World. Daniel Leeds informs his readers in 1697 that some of his "former
friends" had been "influenced against me by their Ministers,
[and] for my zeal against their Falsehoods and grose [sic] Notions have
a watchful eye upon me in that respect."25
It is doubtful that the majority of seventeenth and eighteenth century
astrologers, in worlds old and new, applied their science in an attempt
to displace God or anticipate how God imposed His will on earth. Astrologers,
however, could be separated by their ideologies, not unlike politicians
or clergymen of the time. Some were conservative, distancing themselves
from the potential disapproval of the church, or from the biting pen of
satiricists such as Jonathan Swift (who compiled a mock almanac for 1708).
Others were moderate, trying to stay in compliance with the stern morality
of the church, but at the same time, endeavoring to advance their craft.
Radical astrologers such as William Lilly and Nathaniel Culpeper of England
brazenly asserted that God used the cosmos to undermine the monarchy and
the church.26 A division in ideology likewise existed
among astrology enthusiasts in the colonies who responded to similar currents
of society and feared similar repercussions.
Regardless of how little or how far astrologers desired to press their
art, astrology in its advancement presented alternative choices. In a
culture where God was not to be understood but adored, and where acts
of providence should be accepted for no other reason than that they were
guided by God's judgment, astrology presented fresh perspectives - in
worlds old and new. "The need to form a safer religion, purged of
enthusiasm, was widely recognized," Capp offers.27
New syntheses for decoding how God worked thus moved into the colonial
mind. Astrologers in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were not
searching for reasons why God imposed His will on earth; they were searching
for how acts of divine intervention could be explained.
The study of astrology in Europe and colonial America was split into
two schools of thought: natural and judicial. Natural astrology, which
was accepted by Calvin and even many of astrology's harshest critics,
was defined by the observation of planetary movements and their influence
on weather, farming and medicine.28 Judicial astrology
probed into far more complex matters. In much of the literature on the
subject, it is interesting to note that explanations of judicial astrology
use the decidedly soft verb "attempt." Essentially, making predictions
and casting horoscopes, even if gleaned from serious scientific observation,
were trials subject to human error. Perhaps it is this that most aggravated
the religiously inclined; they believed nothing God did was an "attempt"
of any sort.
Judicial astrology was a bold extension of natural astrology, and
the two branches found equal comfort in American almanacs. Arguably, astrologers
and adherents of astrology thought judicial astrology to be more utilitarian
than its more benign companion branch. If astrological science could be
used to help the colonial farmer determine which months would be kindest
to his crop, why shouldn't it then be used to portend floods, famines,
fires or smallpox epidemics?
The colonial American saw astrology as a valuable instrument in his
vocational and personal life. William Byrd wrote in his diary that he
consulted a "conjuror called Old Abram [who]
gave me hope that
my mistress would be kind again."29 Colonel
London Carter recorded in his eighteenth century diary that his field
was "[a]s dry everything as Usual, and nothing has grown this whole
week. Its [sic] my 3d planet that governs, and I shall not this year amount
to a groat."30 Astrology had discovered applications
in the colonies; it needed only a vehicle to further spread its practicable
Colonial almanacs, like astrology itself, were divided in construction.
There were almanacs that were practical in development (intended to supplement
the studies of agriculture and medicine) and those that were serious works
of judicial astrology. Some almanac-makers who subscribed to judicial
astrology were hesitant to be specific about their prognostications since
they believed readers abused the information. Daniel Leeds, an author
who had been expelled from Quaker society a decade prior, asserted in
1698 that lunar and solar eclipses had an effect on world events, but
he would not "assign and limit their effects to any particular place"
because readers were "too much led astray
by many of their
Regardless of their nature, it is evident astrology found a real voice
in the colonial almanac. Leventhal argues that almanacs' role in opening
up the world of astrology was "purely educational."32
Many almanac-makers took this approach, but it can be argued that they
would have been delighted if readers could make some functional use of
the information they imparted. In his first public effort, the Almanack
for 1726, Dr. Nathaniel Ames assumes an instructive approach, and takes
pleasure in "
being a friend to all that are Mathematically
Ames was a judicial astrology enthusiast, but it is clear he wanted
to play to a wide audience. In the Almanack for 1738, Ames cautions his
readers that "
I would not have you think that I am a Superstitious
Bigot to Judicial Astrology."34 Ames, whose
series was continued by his son until 1776 (the elder died in 1764), authored
his almanacs in a convivial style that did not look down upon readers
from a scientific perch.
Ames considered himself a perpetual student of astrology, and assigned
a high responsibility to his craft. Ten months before his death, Ames
summed up the capacity for understanding that he felt astrology held.
It approximates a certain zeal and enthusiasm that matches the passion
religious men of the day felt for their theology:
Astrology has a Philosophical Foundation: the celestial Powers that
can and do agitate and move the whole Ocean, have also Force and Ability
to change and alter the Fluids and Solids of the humane Body, and that
which can alter and change the fluids and Solids of the Body, must also
greatly affect and influence the Mind; and that which can and does affect
the Mind, has a great Share and Influence in the Actions of Men.35
Other early American almanacs excluded entirely the use of judicial
astrology, denouncing its practice as impious and heretic. Samuel Danforth's
almanac of 1646, the earliest surviving American imprint, did not label
months by signs of the zodiac and avoided the traditional Man of Signs
and projections of judicial astrology. English almanacs observed holy
days (highlighted in red ink) in conjunction with days commemorating important
days in the history of the state. Danforth urged a firm departure from
this custom. "
[W]e reject them whol[l]y," Danforth wrote
piously in 1646, "as superstitious and Anti-[C]hristian, which being
built upon rotten foundations, are Idle Idoll [sic] dayes [sic]."36
Danforth adhered to a simplified format that included poetry about New
England, monthly calendars and notes on local events. In 1648, one such
compilation of notes included a list of "memorable occurrences,"
which recalled the banishment of Anne Hutchinson "and her errors"
to Rhode Island in 1638. 37 Danforth and other producers
of the local "religious" almanac, many of the authors Harvard-educated
and anticipating a swift promotion to the pulpit, used the almanac to
meet prescribed agendas that had nothing to do with astrology. These almanacs
can be understood to be extensions of Puritanism; they sought to cleanse
and sanitize the English almanac.
As scholar David Hall suggests, modification of the traditional English
almanac in seventeenth century New England was "deliberate."38
The Elizabethan theologian William Perkins inspired some hostility toward
the almanac by assailing it and astrology in equal measure. Perkins ridiculed
the use of astrology to predict natural catastrophes, backing up his claims
with chapter and verse from scripture. Almanacs, the prominent Puritan
decried, fostered "contempt for the providence of God."39
Of their forecasts, Perkins warned that "the judgment of God [is]
upon them."40 Perkins admitted that cosmology
might reveal something of human existence, but that the stars' importance
could not be calculated or understood by man.41
The influence of Perkins and other English critics such as William
Fulke, Francis Coxe and Nicholas Allen upon the early Harvard 'philomaths'
(as Danforth and his contemporaries in the 'cleaner' almanac business
were called) is understandable. The philomath almanac, usually compiled
by young students with a scientific bent, made efforts to avoid the vagaries
of astrology in favor of strict Newtonian theory. As is customary with
the study of science, however, there was always the risk of the young
philomath coming too close to the electric fence of entrenched Puritan
dogma. The danger of Newton's science intersecting with the lessons of
scripture, Stowell contends, "never seemed to enter the minds of
Puritan divines."42 The Puritans enjoyed a
special advantage: they reserved the right to use astrology -- and almanacs
-- in convenient ways. Since Harvard controlled the early printing presses,
and since Puritanism commanded early New England society, "
the Puritan's double vision allowed him to interpret cosmic phenomena
both as omens of disaster according to God's providence, and as heavenly
bodies obeying the natural laws of the universe."43
If the Harvard philomaths' modification of the English almanac was
deliberate, then the transformation of American almanacs toward the close
of the seventeenth century can be argued to be a post-reaction to those
currents. Among those who made early exertions to expose the public to
the tenets of traditional Copernican astrology were Zechariah Brigden,
Samuel Cheever, Samuel Brackenbury and Massachusetts colonial governor
Joseph Dudley. Even the accomplished theologian, scientist and man of
letters Cotton Mather was not beyond exploring cometary implications.
These were conservative works of astrology, but they revealed that
natural astrology was spreading throughout colonial culture, with no organized
effort to obliterate it. That a figure such as the luminary Mather would
break away from more serious ruminations as soul-saving to probe the skies
for some sliver of truth (even if he did not believe it sustained any
theological merit) reflected an embrace not only of traditional astrology
but also of its transporter - the distinctly American almanac. Mather's
body of written work is voluminous and prolific, and it includes some
almanac writing. As Samuel Briggs writes, Mather "
occasion, from [his] combats with Satan, to rejoice the world with an
Ephemeris," or the term for an astronomical almanac.44
It is important to emphasize that the shift from natural astrology
to judicial astrology, as tracked through almanacs, was not immediate.
As late as 1694, two years after the Harvard press at Cambridge discontinued
the printing of philomath almanacs, author Thomas Brattle wrote that "[a]strologicall
serve only to Delude and Amuse the Vulgar."45
In 1697, New York almanac-maker John Clapp prefaced his annual by reaffirming
that he had no desire to "unravel those mysterious Secrets kept close
to the Bosom of the great Creator
[as] no Mortal living can prejudge
any matter cause thereof."46
Mather made room for cosmology, insofar as it did not encourage moral
turpitude, but still wondered that "
it not be absurd to beseech
the Readers of an Almanack to become Christian men?"47
In 1683, the 20-year-old Mather made his first incursion into the world
of almanacs, voicing a desire to transform "a sorry Almanack"
into a "Noble" work of literature.48 Jacob
Taylor, an eighteenth century almanac-maker who condemned all variations
of astrology, called the science in 1746 a "meer [sic] cheat, a Brat
of Babylon, brought forth in Chaldea, a Place Famous for Idolatry."49
Taylor believed a "much inferiour [sic] rate of artists" had
emerged and had become "bewitched" by judicial astrology.50
Critics likened bad theology to rubbish they believed were contained in
almanacs. Reverend Thomas Robie of Salem, Massachusetts once received
the reprimand of an anonymous critic who wrote that Robie's "sermons
were only heathenish discourses -- no better Christianity than there was
in Tulley." John Tulley was an almanac author and died before the
criticism of Robie was written.51
Astrology and almanacs, which have been presented as being mutually
beneficial, would not storm onto the cultural scene so easily.
Several concurrent developments might have led to the decline of Cambridge
Press (Massachusetts) philomath almanacs and the quiet ascent of what
we have come to recognize as the 'farmer's almanac.' Printers John Foster,
William Bradford, Daniel Leeds and Tulley began successful and innovative
series of almanacs, incorporating weather information and the Man of Signs.
Foster and Bradford established printing presses in other parts of Massachusetts
and in the middle colonies, which facilitated an awareness of astrology
in spheres outside Boston.52 Ames, along with Leeds,
is credited with having started some of the most well-received almanacs
of the eighteenth century. These almanacs helped lead judicial astrology
to the forefront of the almanac-reading public for more than 40 years.53
Stowell, in examining more than 500 seventeenth and eighteenth century
almanacs, credits Tulley with revolutionizing "the character of the
American almanac."54 Tulley's almanacs were
a departure from the solemnity of the New England almanacs and were known
for their exercise of judicial astrology, as well as crude poems and ribald
stories. Gradually, religiosity's stranglehold on the times was becoming
less and less pronounced.
English historian A.F. Pollard, who published a volume in the Political
History of England series in the early twentieth century, intoduced
a fascinating theory similar to the "wages-fund theory of the historical
process" that illustrates the strengthening of things secular and
the weakening of things religious.55 As one might
expect, the theory was derived from Newtonian physics and applied to historicism.
Pollard reasoned that in any given society, the energy surrounding a single
pair of polar devices is preset. Since the energy is fixed, the flow of
"social energy" in the direction of one pole is possible only
if it is taken away from the other pole.56 For purposes
of this study, the two discrete poles are established, of course, as secularity
and religiosity. If we test Pollard's theory in regard to the rise of
astrology and almanacs against the backdrop of what had been a pious resistance,
we may deduct that astrology and almanacs - along with a host of other
currents that rose up during the formation of a more rational world -
played a role in the displacement of this 'social energy' from one pole
to the other.
Astrology and almanacs were constantly beset by criticism in the eighteenth
century - censure seems as much a part of the discipline as the zodiac
itself - but together they built a colonial American audience that was
inclusive of class, gender and vocational diversity. Astrology's penetration
was steady and faced the same theological resistance it had in mother
England, but carved an identity in the colonies durable enough to last
well into the eighteenth century. Certainly, astrology was strong enough
to persist through the Enlightenment in America, which was as fertile
an era as any for a science rooted in rational thought to prosper. It
stands to reason that the colonial almanac played an indispensable role
in promoting astrology, and vice-versa. It is difficult for the scholar
to investigate one without investigating the other, and, thusly, hard
to remove one from the scope of view without removing the other.
The scholars remain skeptical in assessing astrology's lasting power.
Leventhal underscores 1701 as a date when astrology's cracks first began
to show, when the tireless Jacob Taylor first launched his powerful attacks
against judicial astrology and almanacs.57 In addition,
Leventhal suggests that scientists began to discard astrology after acquiring
a solid foundation of mathematical knowledge and absorbing innovative
Enlightenment thought, such as that found in Newton's Principia.58
How, then, to account for the enormous popularity of Ames' almanacs, for
example, which flourished in the mid-eighteenth century? Ames' almanac
series, firmly rooted in judicial astrology, sold between 50,000 and 60,000
copies annually.59 A careful review of the sources
indicates the scholars have been too hasty to write an obituary for the
application of astrology, irrespective of its natural or judicial disposition.
Late in the eighteenth century -- during which the researchers have sounded
the death knell for astrology -- women, blacks and foreign-born printers
had already made their incursions into the world of almanacs and astrology.
This appears to reflect even further diversity in, at the very least,
basic exposure of astrology. To use another example, Stephen Row Bradley's
Astronomical Diary of 1775 almost outsold (2,000 copies) the second-largest
circulating colonial newspaper of 1770, William Goddard's Pennsylvania
Chronicle (which had 2,500 subscribers).60
How exactly did astrology and the way it was showcased by its benefactor,
the almanac, expand the colonial mind? American almanac-makers were writing
serious expositions on astrology and cosmological phenomena that struck
a distinct appeal within what had been a narrow popular culture. The almanacs
were not only being read by individuals who were scientifically inclined,
but also by landed gentry and commoners, men and women, and merchants
and farmers. We may reason that seventeenth century colonials simply tired
of reading and being influenced by the Bible exclusively. There were reasons
the average New England personal library was comprised of the Bible, the
New England Primer, a collection of sermons -- and a local almanac.61
It provided sophistication, and possibly even an inviting respite from
the stern admonitions of printed sermons and the stark immutability of
scripture. As Stowell summarizes, "the Bible took care of the hereafter,
but the almanac took care of the here
[it] was the layman's to
do with as he pleased; he could study it, disagree with it, and scribble
[on] it." 62 One can conclude that astrology, for good or bad, offered
those exact same options.
1 Herbert Leventhal, In the Shadow of Enlightenment (New York: New
York University Press, 1976), p. 23.
3 Bernard S. Capp, Astrology and the Popular Press (London: Faber,
1977), p. 291.
4 Ibid., p. 276.
5 Samuel Briggs ed., The Essays, Humor and Poems of Nathaniel Ames
(Detroit: Singing Tree Press, 1969), p. 13.
6 Capp, Astrology and the Popular Press, p. 23.
8 Ibid., p. 24.
9 Ibid., p. 34.
10 Ibid., p. 35.
11 Ibid., p. 62.
12 Ibid., p. 60.
13 Marion B. Stowell, Early American Almanacs: The Colonial Weekday
Bible (New York: B. Franklin, 1977), p. 17.
14 Jon Butler, "Magic, astrology and early American religious
heritage, 1600-1760," American Historical Review 84:2 (1979), p.
15 Stowell, Early American Almanacs: The Colonial Weekday Bible, p.
16 Ibid., p. x.
18 William D. Stahlman, "Astrology in Colonial America: An Extended
Inquiry," William and Mary Quarterly 13 (1956), p. 561.
19 Samuel Briggs ed., The Essays, Humor and Poems of Nathaniel Ames,
20 Stowell, Early American Almanacs, p. 244.
21 Jacob Taylor (pseudonym?), An Almanack for the Year
22 Stahlman, "Astrology in Colonial America: An Extended Inquiry,"
23 Michael Sims, Darwin's Orchestra: An Almanac of Nature in History
and the Arts (New York: Holt, 1997), p. 170.
25 Daniel Leeds, An Almanack for the Year
1697 (New York, 1697).
26 Capp, Astrology and the Popular Press, p. 280.
28 Ibid., p. 16.
29 Leventhal, In the Shadow of Enlightenment, p. 56.
30 Ibid., p. 57.
31 Butler, "Magic, astrology and early American religious heritage,
1600-1760," p. 330.
32 Leventhal, p. 23.