The Londesborough collection supplies us with two remarkable specimens of rings connected with toad superstition. Fig. 138 is of mixed metal gilt, having upon it the figure of a toad swallowing a serpent. There is a mediæval story of a necromancer introducing himself to another professor of magic by showing him a serpent ring, upon which the latter, who did not desire any one to interfere with his practice, produced his toad-stone ring, observing that the toad might swallow the serpent, thereby intimating his power to overcome him. Fig. 139 is curious, not only as containing the true toad-stone, but also that the stone is embossed with the figure of a toad, according to the description of Albertus Magnus, who describes the most valuable variety of this coveted gem as having "the figure of the reptile imprinted upon it."
The elder poets have, as usual with them, turned into a moralisation this fabulous bit of natural history. Lyly, in his "Euphues," observes, "the foule toad hath a faire stone in his head." Shakspere has immortalised the superstition in the most effective and beautiful manner, when he declares how
"Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Yet wears a precious jewel in its head."
Superstition did not confine its belief to a few charms; it ranged over more than we can now record. In the Londesborough collection is the massive thumb-ring delineated in Fig. 140, having the tooth of some animal as its principal gem, fondly believed by its original owner to have mystic power over his well-being. To "make assurance doubly sure," it is set all round with precious stones, all believed to have magical virtues.
Superstition was not confined to the real world of animal life, but ranged over the fabulous natural history which mixed largely with the true, in all men's minds, at this credulous era of the world's history, when persons put more faith in false charms for the cure of disease or the prevention of evil, than in the power of medicine, or the value of proper preventives. The horn of the unicorn, the claw of the griffin, and other relics of equal verity and value, were sought eagerly by those rich enough to procure them, and when obtained were believed to ensure much good fortune to the possessor. A fear of the "evil eye"--that bugbear which still disturbs the happiness of the lower class Italians and of the Eastern nations generally--was carefully provided against. One great preservative was the wearing of a ring with the figure of a cockatrice upon it. This imaginary creature was supposed to be produced from that rarest of all rare things, a cock's egg, foolishly believed to be laid on certain occasions under magic influence and planetary agencies. Sir Thomas Browne, in his "Vulgar Errors," describes this imaginary creature "with legs, wings, a serpentine and winding tail, and a crest or comb somewhat like a cock." The Londesborough collection supplies us with a thumb-ring (Fig. 141), having two cockatrices cut in high relief upon an agate. The eye of the living cockatrice was believed to be so deadly as to kill by a look, to which Shakspere alludes in _Twelfth Night_, and again in _Romeo and Juliet_:--