What do the stars say about the future of McGill? In mundane astrology -- that which is concerned with institutions and events rather than with persons -- legal foundations are assumed to occur at noon. The Royal Institution for the Advancement of Learning was granted its charter at Westminster on 31 March 1821. "Noon" by the gopher's shadow was at around 12:50 Universal Time, but I have nudged this forward to 12:07 to make the horoscope fit selected historical events more closely. This does not affect the important ninth- house phenomenon.

Any roomful of beginning astrologers will distinguish McGill's position from that of a casino or auto repair shop. Six out of 10 major astrological bodies are squeezed into the ninth house (the domain of higher learning), to which we might add the Moon -- less than three degrees beyond the house cusp -- and the planetary comet Chiron, to bring the count up to seven or eight bodies: it is all so perfect, in fact, that it could be a parody of astrology!

According to tradition the ninth house (roughly, the 30- degree arc just west of due south) has to do with knowledge -- whether gained from travel, study or more esoteric sources. Astrologers have been criticized for conformism, and the ninth-house descriptions they have left in recent centuries do seem to echo one another. By the same token, they all point to the supreme appositeness of McGill's foundation moment.

"By this House we give judgement of Voyages or long journeys beyond Seas. . . ; Dreams, Visions, foraigne [sic] Countries, of Books, Learning . . ." (William Lilly, 1647).

"By the ninth house we are enabled to answer all questions on the safety and success of voyages. . . ; also. . . all matters relating to the arts and sciences are likewise resolved. . ." (Ebenezer Sibly, 1798).

". . . [T]he educated classes: universities and institutions of higher learning, and their administrative and teaching personnel; philosophic and scientific societies and institutions and their publications; all facilities designed to meet the public demand in education. . ." (Nicholas deVore, 1947).

The most splendid comment on the University's horoscope, however, might be that of Firmicus Maternus (circa 335 A.D.): ". . . in general the Sun on any angle [e.g., at the very top of the astrological map, as here] with Mercury will produce literary men educated in various kinds of letters, carrying on different kinds of literary activities. If Jupiter is in aspect, they will become teachers of kings. . . ."

Modern astrologers will admire the harmonic elegance of the Uranus-Neptune conjunction, which sets off the pack of planets between Mars and Saturn with a series of exact aspects: Mars is two-ninths of a full circle away from the conjunction, the bodies in the middle of the group are one-quarter of a circle away, and Saturn is distant by two-sevenths of a circle. This is music: it speaks of drive, devotion and a certain cleverness at getting things done -- with a modicum of imagination too, thanks to the Moon-Saturn decile aspect; but the imagination must always be tempered by seriousness. Shucks.

The present budgetary hardships are related to the passage of Saturn -- associated with constraint and poverty -- through the region at the top of the map containing the mass of planets. Relief, dramatic but brief, will come early in 1998 as Saturn is replaced by Jupiter, the jovial carrier of optimism and expansion. The University must take every advantage possible of the good years 1998 and 1999: starting in December 1999 there will be serious challenges to everything McGill is and does, as the small but difficult planet Pluto begins to throw (hard) 90-degree aspects to the university's Moon and ninth-house tenants.