Being asked by our worthy Secretary to give a lecture, it 
occured to me that I might as well begin, like charity, at 
home and talk about a sign which is conspicuous in my own 
nativity, and this despite the fact that a scientist, and 
above all an Aquarian scientist, should be impersonal and we 
have never encouraged members to talk about themselves, 
their personal problems, their particular horoscopes. 
Nevertheless it is true for most of us that we began to 
study our science in order to find out more about ourselves 
and our destinies, or life-patterns; and this is hardly 
reprehensible.  It becomes so when we get no further and 
become "bogged down," as the saying is, in our own nativity 
and weary others with discussing it! 

Indeed there are undeniable advantages in studying our own 
map.  In this process, subject and object are  the same...or 
at any rate intimately related.  The mind that studies is 
itself part of the object of study, for its own motions, its 
periods of inspiration and enlightenment, of disappointment 
and of illusion, are largely, if not entirely, in gear with 
the planetary revolutions.  So also the mind watches our 
feelings.  These, indeed, are no part of our real selves; 
they probably represent neither more nor less than our 
egoistic responses to the waves of astral ebb and flow that 
pulsate through the solar system, at the bidding of the 
planets. Nevertheless they are very near to us and we can 
watch them closely as we experience them and can thus deduce 
the nature of the Powers that generate them. 

Further, we can observe our environment...our relations 
with things and people...as these also change.  We cannot do 
this, in anything like so complete a manner, with anyone 
else.  Thus there is nothing unscientific, but quite the 
reverse, in keeping our own maps under observation.  In 
exactly the same way some of the most fruitful medical 
discoveries resulted from experiments carried out by and 
upon the person of the experimenter.  This is certainly 
better and kinder than the action of the physician whose 
tombstone records...I forget where...that "with great 
courage" he experimented with the then newly introduced 
smallpox vaccines upon his wife and children! 

Besides watching our own maps, most of us have a natural 
and quite excusable interest in the lives of those whose 
nativities resemble our own, and find pleasure and probably 
instruction in comparing notes with the natives.  One cannot 
imagine a more interesting talk that what would ensue if one 
could but meet a fellow-astrologer who was born with a 
horoscope identical to one's own; but we may have to wait a 
long time for this pleasurable experience! 

Certainly all these studies of "bits" of horoscopes, such 
as Sun positions, are apt to be misleading.  Every item in 
our lives is intimately related with every other, and with 
the lives of all those around us, and the same is true of 
the items of our nativities.  We cannot isolate one aspect 
of our maps without leaving the realm of reality and 
entering that of artificial abstractions.  That is the weak 
point in statistical studies, useful though these are within 
a limited sphere. 

Treating of the philosophy of Hegel, the late Joad wrote: 
"No single thing in the universe can be adequately known or 
properly understood when it is treated, or example, by 
science, in abstraction; that is to say, divorced from the 
context of the whole in which it appears.  So to treat it is 
to falsify it, for the reason that, so treated , it is not 
really itself." 

A nativity is just such a "whole." 

It is like taking an incident out of your life or out of 
history and trying to consider it in isolation. 

However, this method, whatever its intrinsic drawbacks, is 
one of those by which we pursue astrological truth, and, by 
abstracting the same position from a number of maps, we seek 
to find a common factor that will tell us something reliable 
about it.

It is not difficult to make such a list.  One has only to 
run one's finger down "Notable Nativities" or Maurice 
Wemyss's smaller but much more accurately compiled booklets, 
and one can collect plenty.  Others of you may care to give 
us the benefit of a similar investigation; but it well to 
avoid ascendants because they are often not to be trusted, 
and they do not, in any case, really cut as deep into the 
character as the solar position.  But tonight I shall 
present instances of solar and lunar Aquarians and of those 
with this sign rising.  For simplicity's sake I will call 
them all Aquarians.

In my view we are certainly in an Aquarian epoch of human 
history, whether it is the famous but much misunderstood 
"Aquarian Age" or not; and Aquarians have come to the front, 
so it is just as well to learn something about them.  We 
shall try to be impartial.  Not for us the optimistic notion 
often promulgated that the "Aquarian Age" is going to be 
some sort of earthly paradise, or that all Aquarians 
overflow with love of their fellows.  Some do...but not all. 
They are an uncertain race.  It was written of a sect of old 
that "to be heterodox was their orthodoxy" and that is true 
of your Aquarians.  At least, they are interesting.  I can 
claim that much for my brethren.

Let us take them chronologically.

We shall begin with one who was born in the 15th century, 
to wit, Sir Thomas More, recently canonized by the Roman 
Church.  He is known as a scholar and a lawyer of 
distinction, who was a favourite of Henry VIII until his 
refusal to acknowledge his master's authority in matters 
spiritual as well as temporal, for which act of courage he 
paid with his life.  He foresaw that Henry's claim could 
only result in the setting up throughout Europe of a number 
of separate nominally Christian communities, thereby 
"rending Christ's robe into shreds."  It will be remembered 
that he met his end not only bravely but in a spirit of 
whimsical humour which is Aquarian. 

In the next century, the 16th, we have Robert Burton, the 
author of "The Anatomy of Melancholy," described by Sir 
William Osler as "a great medical treatise, orderly in 
arrangement, serious in purpose."  But it was much more that 
this, as the Encyclopaedia Brittanica points out. 

Burton had Mars precisely rising in Aries, but Saturn in 
Capricorn almost exactly on the M.C. accounts for his 
statement that he wrote the work to escape from melancholia; 
and many are his reasons for this complaint, amongst them 
the influence of the stars, whilst his remedies include old 
age pensions!  It is curious that these were finally 
introduced by another Aquarian, David Lloyd George! 

It is evident that Burton may be acclaimed as a scientist 
and also as a humanitarian and social reformer, who, like 
More, speculated with the idea of a Utopian State.  We shall 
find these propensities illustrated in other Aquarians as we 
go on. 

Indeed, this pursuit of an Ideal State seems quite an 
obsession with some Aquarians...the more hopeful sort, I 
suppose.  From Sir Thomas More's original Utopia down to 
Franklin Delano Roosevelt with his "New Deal"! 

We come now to two born in the 16th century, Francis Bacon 
(Sun and Mercury rising in Aquarius) and Wallenstein (Uranus 
rising in Aquarius). 

Both men exhibit clearly three prominent qualities of the 
sign (a)marked but eccentric abilities;(b)ideals and 
ambitions of great amplitude;(c)lack of personal integrity 
and principle. 

It is not my task to discuss Bacon's character in detail. 
It is a controversial subject.  Pope called him the "wisest, 
brightest, meanest of mankind", though I do not know what he 
meant by "brightest"...perhaps he referred to the 
unquestioned wit and verbal felicity of Bacon's Essays. 

His scientific, or, as people said in those days, his 
philosophic ambitions were vast, for he envisaged a general 
restatement of scientific aims and methods.  It is said 
that, in point of fact, he has been more praised by 
philosophers than by men of science, who have not followed 
his ideas. 

His life was much involved in friendships (though that was
common enough in those days of place-seeking and patronage) 
and he is rightly condemned for his savage attacks on Essex 
when the old favourite had fallen.  It may be said that he 
was genuinely horrified by Essex's action, still, at least 
by modern standards, he might have "pulled his punches." 

He took bribes and condemned himself for having done so. 
It was a common practice in those days; but a philosopher 
should have broken with the custom "more honoured in the 
breach than the observance." 

He has been called a Rosicrucian and what not, but no true 
brother of that Fraternity has ever owned to such 
membership. 

It is an interesting matter for astrological speculation 
as to why Bacon has posthumously had so much nonsense talked 
about him.  His horoscope tells us just what he was: a hard, 
brilliant, able and extremely intellactual man. 

Wallenstein, who was born in 1583, was a brave and 
successful soldier of the Thirty Years War.  He was 
unboundedly ambitious and seems to have envisaged a scheme 
for the constitutional reorganization of Germany, with 
himself at the head.  Nominally a Catholic and a servant of 
the Emperor Ferdinand, he entered into negotiations with the 
Swedish generals who had succeeded Gustavus Adolphus, killed 
at the battle of Lutzen, but his plans were betrayed and he 
was put to death by some of his subordinates who were loyal 
to the Emperor.  His career is the theme of the grand 
trilogy by Schiller and his tragic end is the subject of 
some stirring German ballads. 

He has a special interest for us, because he relied 
throughout his life on astrology.  Schiller represents his 
private astrologer, Seni, an Italian and good Catholic, as 
warning his master against false friends, but these, Seni 
thought, must be the "heathen"...that is, Lutheran...Swedes. 

Bacon envisaged a "reformed astrology." 

We can see marked resemblances between these two men and 
their careers and in each there was the one outstanding 
feature of treachery or near-treachery to his patron. 

In each instance the delinquent would probably have put up 
fairly good case for himself. 
  Probably many Aquarians see things differently from other 
people and reject Saturnian limitations on conduct.  We 
shall have reason to recur to this trait of 
unpredictability. 

We now enter the 17th century where I find one fine 
example of Sun in Aquarius, namely, Swedenborg. 

Again we have the outstanding abilities, for Swedenborg 
was a mining engineer and metallurgist of considerable 
distinction. 

Again we have the "ideals of great amplitude" for he 
sought to establish a "New Church" to which members of all 
communities could belong.  A bold thing to attempt at any 
time and particularly inthe 17th century. 

Certainly his moral character was beyond reproach. 

May I mention here how often the Aquarian element (whether 
Sun, Moon or ascendant) is combined with Sagittarius?  The 
two signs seem to work admirably together. 

Swedenborg had the 9th sign rising. 

I do not know what he thought on the subject of astrology; 
but he tells us that in the spiritual world the Sun is 
always 45½ above the eastern horizon, that is, in the middle 
of the 11th house...a very Aquarian touch! 

Coming now to the 18th century, I pause for a moment to 
speak of Linnaeus, the Father of modern botany.  HOwever, he 
had but the Moon in Aquarius. 

My next name is Frederisk of Prussia (1712). He had Sun, 
Mars, Mercury in our sign, on the M.C., and opposed by the 
Moon conjunction Saturn.  Not a pleasant or easy nativity at 
all.  A rather well-placed Venus gave him his victories and 
in the appreciation of music and poetry. 

He was a tremendous worker and conscientious after his 
way; but he could show a callous indifference to human 
feeling. "Dogs, would ye live forever?" he shouted (from a 
safe distance) to his faltering guardsmen.  HIs upbringing 
may excuse much.  It would appear he suffered from 
loneliness.  Aquarians are rather a paradox here; they are 
sociable, and yet they like to remain in some sense aloof. 

Perhaps there was more of the mild of human kindness in 
Frederick than history has recorded, but there is a cold 
detached side to the Aquarian nature and there is also a 
treacherous side, or at least a devious one, as we saw in 
the case of Wallenstein.  But he "laboured genuinely for the 
good of humanity," says the Encyclopaedia, and was capable 
of warm attachments. 

Wofgang Amadeus Mozart (1756) was strongly Aquarian; he 
had Saturn, Sun, Mercury and Venus in that sign, but I must 
leave others to discuss how and to what extent this appears 
in his work, for I am not qualified to say anything on this 
point.  He was an enthusiastic freemason, which agrees very 
well with the sign of fraternity. 

The astrological puzzle presented by Mozart is rather that 
he had Jupiter in Libra in the 2nd, well aspected by the 
Moon in Sagittarius, and yet was always in financial 
difficulties and had an improvident wife!  But that is 
another matter.  Should anyone aspire to give us a lecture 
on "Jupiter Debunked" they might care to use this horoscope. 

We come now to two very different men born with Aquarius 
rising and in the same year, 1758. 

Robespierre is too well known to need description here. 
He is, however, typical of the "idea-ridden" Aquarian.  Like 
More, he "lost his head" quite literally but whilst the 
lawyer died heroically, Robespierre broke down and made a 
pitiful end. 

Then we have Thomas Taylor, the Platonist, a bank clerk 
who taught himself Greek and set himself to translate the 
whole of Plato as well as most of the corpus of Neo-Platonic 
literature.  This was at a time when banks did not close at 
3 p.m.!  He also was possessed by a great idea and one which 
seems fantastically out of place in the "Age of Reason," for 
he wished to restore the worship of the ancient Hellenic 
gods, as esotericised by the Neo-Platonists.  The 
Christians, with whom he was at perpetual variance, even 
accused him of sacrificing a bull to Zeus in his 
back-garden.  Thomas Taylor was a wise and kindly man and it 
is questionable whether he would have wished to kill a fly 
or could have afforded to kill a bull! 

However, whatever our good friends may say,, the worship 
of the ancient gods has never died: those who fill in their 
football pools are still worshipping Jupiter, those who buy 
savings certificates are still making obeisance to Saturn, 
those who attend boxing matches are bowing to Mars...and as 
for Venus, she has never had more devotees!  One could 
expand the list to most human interests and activities; and 
the the scientists themselves recognize, or at least the 
more intelligent ones do. 

In a delightful book by Charles Seltman, entitled "The 
Twelve Olympians" and published in the Pan-series, the 
author writes that the ancient gods "rose into the firmament 
to become the darlings of astrologers and magicians. 
Medieval and many later men have believed their destinies to 
be ruled by the god-planets" and again "It is pleasant to 
reflect that as Concepts, Beings, Symbols...they have not 
left us, nor we them." 

Robert Burns was born in 1759, with Sun conjunction Mars 
in Aquarius, time unknown. 

We know that many of his writings have the true Aquarian 
ring..."a man's a man for a' that," and so on.  Also, though 
sincerely religious, he annoyed the clergy and the unco' 
guid and had no use for them; and with Aquarian perversity 
he seems to have had a fairly clear liking for "Auld 
Clootie," alias Satan. 

It is said of Frederick of Prussia that in his old age his 
best friends were two greyhounds that slept in his bed; and 
Burns shows the same liking for the dumb creation, as in the 
famous poem about the mouse..."wee, tim'rous, sleekit, 
cowerin' beastie." 

"Auld Lang Syne" is fitting memorial to an Aquarian; 
indeed it is sort of Anthem of Aquarianism, though "we'll 
fill a cup of kindness yet" is rather Piscean, for the cup 
was, we fear, not destined by Burns to be filled with the 
harmless waters of Aquarius! 

As regards his love of the lasses, I think we may claim 
that sexual over-indulgence is not a fault to which Aquarius 
is prone, though our next example was, if possible, worse 
than Robert in this respect; I refer to Lord Byron l(1788) 
who had Sun, Venus and Saturn in the 11th sign, birth-hour 
unknown or doubtful. 

Byron was a friend of liberty and died in the campaign to 
free Greece from the Turks.  But I do not see him as a 
particularly Aquarian poet or as markedly Aquarian in any 
way.  We must recall that the Sun-sign is often dormant 
during the first half of life, and he died at the age of 36. 
Of course the club-foot which is said to have warped him 
psychologically may be referred to Aquarius. 

Perhaps someone will wish to say that there is evidence 
that Aquarius is not pleasant or normal in his sex 
interests.  I would reply that Aquarius is unusual in many 
ways; and it is true that Havelock Ellis had Aquarius rising 
with the Sun and Moon in it, and so was a sort of King of 
all the Aquarians.  But in most cases I believe the sign 
will be found to the student of, rather than the participant 
in, heterodox habits.  It is attracted by what is unusual 
and out-of-the-way, in sex and all else. 

One would think of William Wordsworth as a very Aquarian 
poet, for love of Nature is strong in most natives of this 
sign.  Actually he had his ruler therein...no more. 

Charles Lamb had Sun, Venus, Mercury and Pluto there and 
friendship played a large part in his life.  He remains as 
one of the most lovable of our gallery, and his whimsicality 
is an attractive version of what, in so many, is 
eccentricity.  We may say that humour is not peculiar to any 
one sign but Aquarians have, I think, more than most of the 
others. 

His loving devotion to his afflicted sister manifests a 
patient and steadfast affection that Aquarians do not always 
show.  It is often said that they are detached in their 
feelings but in this case such "detachment" as there was 
came from without in the form of loneliness, due to no fault 
of his own.  The weekly "socials" he enjoyed so much came to 
an end. 

How much we should like to find that Sir William Herschel 
had had the Sun in Aquarius!  But in point of fact he 
hadn't, nor had his talented and devoted sister, who acted 
as his faithful assistant, nor his son who carried on his 
work.  Perhaps the planet he discovered was prominent in his 
map; it could hardly have been otherwise.  Perhaps, after 
all, Uranus has nothing in particular to do with Aquarius. 

We now come to the 19th century. 

My first name is that of George Sand (1804) who had 
Aquarius rising, Saturn in Virgo. 

She exhibits the extreme eccentricity that some Aquarians 
present; she was given to wearing male attire and smoking 
cigars.  Her works show a love and understanding of country 
life and the ways of the peasantry, and this is often 
conspicuous in Aquarians, in contrast to Leo which is 
frequently indifferent to Nature and rural beauties.  Here 
Taurus, though is square to Aquarius, has much in common 
with it, though perhaps one could say that Taurus is the 
country, or part of it, whilst Aquarius observes it in a 
more detached way. 

Abraham Lincoln (1809) had the Sun in 23 Aquarius, reputed 
to be an area of sympathy.  There is little need to speak of 
a man so well known and widely honoured, but one may mention 
his whimsical humour.  Intent on watching a play, he did not 
observe the approach of a large lady who subsided next to 
him...on his top hat.  "Madam," said Lincoln sadly, "I could 
have told you that my hat wouldn't fit you!" 

Charles Dickens (1812) is another case of Sun in Aquarius 
displaying profound sympathies and ardour for social reform, 
with plenty of humour, too obvious, perhaps, to be classed 
as whimsical.  What might be called broad strokes of humour 
and a vivid sense of fun are commonly found with the Moon in 
Sagittarius. 

Karl  Marx (1818) is another example of the desire for 
social reform, in his case via economics, which is just what 
one might expect from the Sun and Moon in Taurus.  The ruler 
Saturn was in Pisces.  There is a curious Aquarianism about 
his theories, which, he explained, would only work so to 
speak in a vacuum...in actual practice it would always be 
found that other factors would interfere with their free 
manifestation.  Hence he would be quite unperturbed by the 
patent fact that the poor have not got poorer and poorer nor 
the rich richer and richer, as they should have done 
"according to plan."  It is curious that the Sign of the Man 
is sometimes quite inhuman, in the sense that it ignores 
human nature and assumes that we are all, whether 
capitalists or proletariat, mere automata.  Yet other 
Aquarians have a deep understanding of man. 

Is this the Paradox of Aquarius and has every single sign 
a similar paradox?  A good subject for a lecture! 

Next, I would mention Czar Alexander II, who freed the 
serfs and was repaid by assassination.  He was born in 1818 
like Marx, but had only the Moon in the sign which is our 
subject.  Yet such a typically Aquarian act deserves being 
remembered and respected.  Though nominally he was an 
autocrat it may have required great courage on his part to 
take that step and he may be bracketed with Abraham Lincoln. 

We continue with our reformers and come now to John Ruskin 
(1819) who had the sun rising in our sign.  Not long ago 
Mrs. Rodgers gave us an excellent study of the man; and in 
any case his work and ideals are well known.  However, he 
was another who seems to have failed in understanding common 
human nature, especially in its female presentation. 

Mrs. Mary Baker Eddy (1821) was one of those remarkable 
people, including Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort, who 
had Uranus conjoined with Neptune either at the end of 
Sagittarius or the beginning of Capricorn.  She had nothing, 
however, in Aquarius save the Moon, unless indeed it was 
ascending, so I mention her only in passing.  But she can be 
placed beside Swedenborg as the founder of a new church. 

Francis Galton (1822) had the Sun in Aquarius and Moon in 
Sagittarius, like Dickens.  As the founder of the science of 
Eugenics it does seem fit and proper that he should exhibit 
something of the 11th sign.  He had Libra rising and of a 
his discoveries I recollect only that he declared Nottingham 
to have a higher percentage of pretty girls than any town in 
Great Britain.  I believe it comes under Libra anyway, so 
perhaps he as a Libran had a bias in its favour.  But our 
statisticians will tell us that even if this attractive 
factor was true in his time, there is no reason to assume 
that it still is. 

To found a new science and above all a very human science 
must be a real triumph for an Aquarian. 

n point of fact, it is rather surprising that my list 
does not include as many scientists as one might expect. 
But I would like to record the interesting fact that Newton 
had Venus, and Einstein had Jupiter in the same degree, viz. 
27 Aquarius. 

Jules Verne (1828) with Sun and Mercury on the M.C. in 
Aquarius, was not exactly a scientist and yet he had an 
extraordinary gift of scientific imagination.  We may 
compare him in this respect with H.G, Wells, who had only 
the Moon in Aquarius but who, besides his works of 
scientific fiction, had the urgent desire to reform society 
that we have found featured again and again in our portrait 
gallery. 

Lord Salisbury (1830) had Sun, Mercury and Uranus in 
Aquarius. ascendant unknown.  These positions appeared 
chiefly, I think, in his chemical researches.  I do not 
think Aquarius often enters politics; nor is it often, like 
Salisbury, a "convinced and devout Churchman."  Further, it 
is said that his family life was singularly happy and that 
he seldom went outside its circle.  In fact he was 
unsociable by nature, which is unlike our sign. 

He did not attempt Utopian schemes but thought a statesman 
ought to be satisfied if the country managed to make some 
progress and avoid real catastrophes, such as major wars. 
Bismarck said he was a lath painted to look like steel. 

Our next subject did not think about Utopias, so far as I 
am aware, but created an imaginary world of joyous fantasy; 
I refer to "Lewis Carroll" (1832) and his Wonderland.  He 
had Sun, Uranus and Jupiter in the 11th sign, and 
Sagittarius rising with the Moon, Venus and Mars therein. 
Like Ruskin he had an abnormal and not very pleasant 
interest in little girls, but at least this gave us "Alice" 
and I believe Mrs. Rodgers pointed out that it was a 
propensity which, for some reason, our Victorian ancestors 
did not find objectionable. 

I regard "Alice" as a very Aquarian creation, even down to 
the chess-board theme in "Through the Looking Glass" and the 
little brooks that had to be jumped over.  And was there 
ever a better portrait of one kind of Aquarian than the 
good-natured muddle-headed old King of Hearts in the trial 
scene?  Or, for that matter, the White Knight? 

Thomas Alva Edison (1847), Mercury, Sun, Neptune in 
Aquarius brings us back to the scientific type, with the 
prodigious powers of sustained work that the sign sometimes, 
but not always, displays; as a rule, like the other air 
signs, Aquarius cannot forgo sleep easily.  But Edison had 
Scorpio rising and Mars in Capricorn, with the Moon. 

Charles Dodgson had a fan in the 9th, 10th and 11th signs; 
they comprised no less than eight bodies and the ascendant 
as well.  Edison had eight bodies in the 10th, 11th, 12th 
and 1st signs.  These "fan satellitia" seem common in 
distinguished maps.  Edison exhibits the practical as 
distinct from the more idealistic Aquarian, who sometimes 
becomes the "bats in the belfry" type, with all sorts of 
grades in between. 

General Baden Powell (1857) had Moon and Mercury rising in 
the sign; he was certainly a practical dreamer whose works 
live after and speak for him. 

Then we have Charles de Foucauld, about whom I once 
lectured here.  Born in 1858, he had Aquarius rising.  After 
a youth of a most scandalous nature ending in his being 
legally forced to hand over all he had to what I believe the 
French call a conseil de famille, an awful humiliation, he 
turned religious and went native in Algeria and Morocco, 
made one convert and was murdered. 

Whilst carrying on his discouraging task as a missionary 
he did useful work for the French on the lines of secret 
service; and it does seem to me that, from the Arab 
standpoint, this was somewhat double-faced and might be 
taken as a sample of Aquarian disingenuousness. 

Next, David Lloyd George (1863) who has also been accused 
of a certain...shall we say?...elusiveness.  I believe his 
ascendant is authentic, and if so, he had Venus and Mercury 
rising in the 11th sign.  There seems little doubt of his 
sincere sympathy for the less fortunate classes of society 
and of his desire to help them.  Like Dickens, he 
Sun-Aquarius, Moon-Sagittarius...a rather happy combination, 
apparently.  If Dickens portrayed exaggerated types, Lloyd 
George certainly used exaggerated language, though I do not 
recall his ever having called half the population of the 
country "vermin" or "morons."  We had to wait for a Scorpio 
satellitium for that pleasure. 

Baron Lionel Walter Rothschild (1868), Sun in Aquarius, 
was a great naturalist, who bequeathed one and a half 
million butterflies and moths to the nation.  We have 
already commented on the pronounced love of nature that the 
sign displays. 

We next mention a statesman, President Ebert (1871), who 
had Sun and Venus in Aquarius in the midheaven.  He was the 
first president of the so-called Weimar Republic. 

And, whilst we are in Germany, we recall that William II, 
Sun in Aquarius, a fantastic figure, and a case where, as 
with Byron, physical deformity warped the mind. 

C.G. Jung (1875), Aquarius rising, gives us another 
instance of the Aquarian interest in human nature and, we 
may gladly add, of sincere love of truth, for Dr. Jung has 
not hesitated to express his belief in the veracity and 
value of astrology in the face of an unbelieving and 
ignorant world. 

Grock, the clown (1880), had Aquarius rising and gives us 
yet another example of Aquarian whimsicality. 

Next, Franklin Delano Roosevelt (1882), Venus, Sun, 
Mercury in Aquarius, the first two being squared by Saturn 
and Neptune. 

We get again the accusations of duplicity and 
untrustworthiness; he was so popular in Britain during the 
war that we do not always remember how vehemently hated he 
was by many of his countrymen; and now we know that he was 
certainly deluded by Stalin and by his artless faith in his 
powers of "jollying" that grim individual into a pliable 
state of mind. 

Sun in Aquarius has to beware of being betrayed by its 
associates and false friends, at least if the Sun is 
afflicted badly, as Roosevelt's was. 

However, he takes his place among the Aquarian reformers 
and would-be benefactors of the oppressed. 

My last example is a scientist, Professor Piccard (1884). 
He had both Lights in Aquarius, with Libra rising, a most 
appropriate configuration for one who entered the 
stratosphere! 

You may say: "What about the astrologers?" 

But I am afraid the time has not yet come when we can 
justly apply the word "eminent" to any astrologer. 

However, as a small addendum, I may say that we find John 
Coley (1633) with our sign rising.  John Partridge (1644), 
the unfortunate victim of Dean Swift's squib, had Sun, 
Mercury and Venus in Aquarius and so had L.E. Johndro (1882) 
an American student recently deceased.  Paul Choisnard, the 
well-known French astrologer, had Sun, Mercury and Jupiter 
in Aquarius. 

So we close our survey, conscious of the great names that 
must have been omitted. 

Among our Aquarians we have found many who wished mankind 
well, and some who have deserved to be remembered by every 
one of us with gratitude and honour.  Others, like Charles 
Dodgson and Grock have amused and delighted us.  Of some few 
it is not easy to speak kindly. And "others there be that 
have no memorial." 

I confess I have found much pleasure in writing about 
them, for they are interesting subjects of study. 
Furthermore, I think that there is a sufficient family 
likeness throughout to constitute, of itself, an argument 
for the truth of Astrology.